And yet, unlike other works in Bausch’s repertoire, the balance between the dreamy and the brutal largely skews to the former in “Sweet Mambo.” There is a gentleness to this windswept world. Even while sulking about to the melancholic tones of the loungey soundtrack there is something angelic about the figures on stage. Perhaps it is the retrospective nature of their musings, recalling the features they inherited from various relatives, reminiscing on their tours across the world. Peter Pabst’s flowy set and black and white projections certainly amp up the celestial vibes. Even as intensity mounts in the second act, with the wind machine at full throttle, the joy of the work resounds.

This joy is especially evident in how playful the work is, particularly in the hands of Panadero. She lumbers on stage, occasionally in a platinum blonde wig, bespectacled, and wielding a mic. In her gravelly voice, flavoured with a heavy Spanish accent, she barks out wooden lines to the audience like a stand-up from a David Lynch movie. Panadero, a legend of Wuppertal, straddles between the absurd and the hilarious with gusto. One feels that after the years of angst and turmoil these dancers endured on stage, Bausch gave them a gift in this divine piece. “Sweet Mambo” is their chance to remember the fonder times and go forth with grace. Undoubtedly it is one of Pina Bausch’s finest works.