Sport: The Gymnaestrada

From 24 nations, a muscular army of 10,000 descended on Stuttgart, pitched their tents in public parks, and ate the city out of fresh fruit. Their weapons were the Indian club, the skipping rope and the trampoline; their uniforms were the leotard, the sweatshirt, and the bloomer; their hearts were uncompetitive and simon-pure. It was amateur night all week. In Stuttgart’s commodious Nechar Stadium (capacity 90,000) and in 15 overflow halls around town, the third world festival of amateur gymnasts, the Gymnaestrada (the “way to gymnastics”), was under way.

For five days and nights, the jumping, grunting, lifting, leaping and writhing went on. An 80-woman corps from Norway, the youngest among them 50 years old, performed precision calisthenics to the strains of Now Is the Hour. A shorts-clad German woman contingent got a big hand for an exhibition of ball throwing, even though they several times knocked the medicine ball into the orchestra seats. Young Englishmen flew nimbly on and off the gymnastic horses; 17 lovely young women from the Unifed Arab Republic banged sticks in unison; a troupe of muscle-flexing Danish maids rolled about the stage so sensuously that some of the crowd, reminded of other occasions, were moved to encouraging shouts of “Take it off.” If not everyone was professionally proficient, they all were amateurishly enjoying themselves. And the best were good (see cuts).

Predominantly a European phenomenon, the Gymnaestrada is amateur athletics at its purest. All 10,000 participants paid their own way to Stuttgart, and their own expenses while there. No one was judged, and everyone was eligible: the age of the participants ranged from 7 to 74. “It’s the cheapest form of exercise I can get,” explained a German housewife of 38. “I need only a pair of gym shoes and shorts to work out. It’s a family sport. My husband and children and I all enjoy it together. Now we like it so much we follow gymnastic events all over Europe.”