She spins, she pirouettes, right, left, forwards and backwards, in a gray jacket, then a white one, in trousers, in underwear, and sometimes without. Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker twirls constantly ...
Mention Jacques Brel and you summon up images of cabaret stools, turtlenecks, berets and pretentious chanteuses with bad French accents trying to get their lips around “Ne Me Quitte Pas.” For that, we ...
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