2024: age 26

Fluid. Expansive. Fun.

My dance practice is always shifting. This year in particular, it has led me to new spaces where I have enjoyed the freedom to explore and satisfy all my kinesthetic cravings; a mix of classes (chosen by degrees of fun), open studio time, strength training, continued improvisational research, the occasional yoga, my first half-marathon, and very very little technique. I find my movement practice is constantly swaying with the currents of my personal and artistic life, both of which have been deeply invested in grad school for the greater part of the past year. Semesters worth of modules have made their way into my bones through hours of internalized lectures; synthesizing notes into scores, diagrams into dance-material, concepts into content. I find myself regularly giddy with excitement when finding new ways to “feel” what I’m learning through the brain-body connection. That perhaps, is the most profound insight I’ve learned all year: how deeply intelligent and intricately interwoven the body is.

As vessels of cellular composition, it is a damn miracle that our bodies can even function at the level of precision and efficiency that they do. Not counting the incredibly smart and adaptive mechanisms we have that inherently support our neuromuscular development, motor learning, creative output, and so on. Trust me – once you dive into the metabolic process of ATP production, you will suddenly really appreciate how your body moves across the floor with abundant, flowing energy. Getting to learn about these processes – and all the inner workings of the body in motion – has given me profound perspective (and awe) of what the body can do. We are spewing with boundless kinetic potential. This forms the basis of the approach and thought framework I hope to incorporate in all my work going forward: empowering one’s kinetic expansion through practical knowledge, physical exploration, and a deeper sense of cultivated appreciation for the body.

One of the ways this has manifested is the development of a new workshop series co-taught with DSP Movement Therapist Jennifer Bury, Embodied Exploration. Through guided experiments rooted in sensory awareness, these workshops are meant to create a safe, non-competitive, and playful space for movers to experience themselves (and each other) in the revealing of our co-created discoveries. Each workshop focuses on a specific area of exploration shaped by the inherent needs and interests of the group, allowing us to remain in dynamic relationship to our bodies as living, feeling beings. With two workshops down, and one more to go, we are already looking forward to continuing this series for a broader audience in new locations and formats.

Artistically, this year has also nudged me into a new phase of choreographic pursuit. Since 2021, I’ve had particular curiosities around memory and movement. “How do we remember through the body? Where exactly do we store information, neurologically and physiologically? How does memory continue to live on through our embodied experiences?”

These early questions have inspired an EEG-based study and choreographic research project I am taking on through my graduate work with the University of Florida from 2024-2026. Both a personal and academic endeavor, this project centers the body as a primary tool for research in both data collection and dance creation; capturing brain activity through electroencephalography and memory stimulating trials, the resulting data will be used to inspire choreographic scores, structures, and visual concepts that represent the symbiotic brain-body relationship in memory formation. The project will culminate in both written and video documentation, capturing findings of the work through the analytical left brain and imaginative right brain. I am slowly in the process of designing the research framework for this study (with the artistic vision brewing in the background), which should keep me occupied for the next six to eight months as I begin research in the fall.

My movement practice is not just physical these days; like the body, it is intricately interwoven with all other aspects of my life. It carries my intellect, my creative ambitions, my personal and professional growth, all while maintaining itself through the consistent act of showing up in this body, no matter where it takes me. As long as I have it, I will keep moving.

Website: www.felicitas.com

Instagram: www.instagram.com/felicidances

Photo by Conni McKenzie

2023: age 25

This year has brought me much needed clarity on where I want to go with dance.

For the past six months, I’ve been in Mexico City exploring, creating, moving, decompressing, and absorbing new life into my body. It was out of pure curiosity and necessity that I found myself drawn to this dynamic city, one that boasts such a beautiful range of creative expression and cultural depth. Without expectation, my short-term “sabbatical” quickly became a rejuvenating and transformational time for my artistic growth; I got to experience and witness an incredibly diverse dance scene, experiment with new movement practices, and reconnect with my own desires of how I want to deepen my relationship to dance.

What became clear – and what has long been apparent to me – is that I greatly appreciate and relish the pure physical exploration of the body through movement. My creative approach and interests have always been rooted in the kinesthetic potential of this vessel we call “body,” the range of movement, qualities, and expressions available to us through physical manifestation of the internal and external worlds. My time in CMDX was dedicated to furthering this, leading to the beginnings of a new improvisational practice centered on exploring environment (and its geographical/global context, history, culture, essence) through movement:

“Dance has always been a refuge for my personal, emotional, and physical research of what is ~ what was ~ what is becoming ~ I’d like to expand this practice and use my craft as a way to explore the world around me, to process and make sense of my surroundings with openness and curiosity. The concept is simple: take notice, influence, or inspiration from specific aspects of the geographical location I am in to inform a series of improvisational scores. Use these to shape your experience of movement, to absorb the geographical imprint into your body, and discover new boundaries within your physicality. This is my way of understanding the world around me – not just the physical location itself, but the historical significance and realities it holds; its politics; people; social fabric; nature; culture; and all other aspects that go into shaping an environment. It is a practice of observing, noticing, and deep listening, while dissolving any judgment or preconceptions of what is or what comes out of it. It is full of delightful surprises, greater awareness, and for me, pure fun and joy (which is why we dance in the first place, right?).” – excerpts from Ep. 1 of mvmt research project

While this will certainly continue to develop as I venture to new places, it is just the beginning of a larger voyage I plan to make into the world of the body and movement. Years of experimenting with different movement practices and modalities have pushed me to continually reach for new discovery within my own body – what’s possible, what’s underneath, what’s beyond. There are striking moments where the limitations of my own body (from years of technique training or other mental constraints) finally let go long enough for me to taste something new in my kinesphere, so long as I continue to stay in that realm of curiosity and deep listening. It’s equally fascinating and freeing, and I’ve been thinking about how to cultivate this approach for other movers to try on. I want to share in the experience of what it’s like to discover a wider range of movement through active, expansive exploration beyond one’s own engrained movement patterns. What this would require, and what has been part of my approach for years now, is retraining the body to move as a whole functional being rather than a technical dancer. Without a doubt, technique serves as a great foundation for dance-based movements, but to push past that and experience a movement vocabulary beyond the constructed ones we’re taught (one that comes from your own dynamism and unique physicality) requires a deeper, more diversified approach to the body’s functionality and form outside of dance.

All this, and my never-ending interest in the multiplicity of movement, has led me back to school to pursue an MS in Applied Physiology and Kinesiology. In a few weeks, I’ll be cracking open textbooks (yay) to dive deep into the form, function, and physiology of the body as it relates to dance and movement. I’ll be weaving together the scientific and the artistic, creating a hybrid approach that will help movers of all backgrounds experience themselves more fully in motion. I want to develop resources, spaces, and communal offerings that center on the physical exploration of the body through conceptual and expansive frameworks that enhance movement capacity, quality, and range. It will also be an entry point into the field of research supporting scientific dance literature, which I hope to learn from in key areas of dance training design, biodynamics, functional movements and strength training for injury prevention, and corrective exercise approaches that lead to more sustainable movement experiences for all bodies.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, this clarity and vision of where I see my dance career going. It’s exciting, and extremely aligned with how I want to experience the world through movement: with curiosity, openness, and ever-growing appreciation for the corporal instrument that has always been, and is, the basis of my creative and human existence.

2022: age 24

It’s been 10 years since I first came to the Bay Area. After spending many spotted seasons in between here, Seattle, and wherever else in the world I was, I finally made the choice to return and plant myself in this quintessential creative metropolis. I was very particular about this decision; I felt that out of any city in the world, this was the one I could see myself rooting into, one that would allow me to grow artistically and professionally while fulfilling the many other realms that encompass my life. I didn’t expect much to happen in this first year back. I was expecting myself to immerse slowly, quietly. But after almost two years of isolation (and living room dancing, which is great, but damn. s p a c e), my desire to be deeply involved in the diverse creative communities that this city boasts became so engulfing that it took on a whole path of its own.

Last spring, I was honored to work with dance filmmaker Conni McKenzie and sound designer Jaime Serra dos Santos on our first ever commissioned dance film, Lungs of the Earth, which premiered in April for USF’s Performing Arts & Social Justice 20th anniversary festival. In the midst of lockdown, we hustled over six weeks of intense Zoom rehearsals, late-night brainstorming calls, and an intense four-hour film take to create what is now a hybrid exploration of the social-political inferno and environmental crisis consuming the Amazon region of Brazil and its Indigenous communities. This all-consuming process was invigorating and exhausting, giving me a first glimpse into what a professional life as an artist might look like. I liked it.

The following months we were invited to participate in a few panel discussions as part of USF’s Thacher Art Gallery Fall 2021 Exhibition All that you touch. As a first time presenting artist alongside these incredible mid-career (and environmentally-focused) artists, the conversations of our creative output really cemented the role and responsibility I wanted to take in making socially-engaged work that extends beyond the screen or stage. There must be more to this than just the performance. I felt strongly that there was so much more to dig into within this work, not just the piece itself, but the granular details surrounding it that came from hours of researching and conceptualizing brutal facts and realities that inspired the piece. People must not walk-away only having seen something; they must also be filled with reactions, curiosities, disturbances, and ideally, a desire to do something about it. My dance practice is not just one of artistic expression or physical movement; it is a social responsibility to create, a political act that requires more of me than just my body. It requires every part of my brain and heart to be in congruent action; all my creative and critical thinking in concert; my acceptance and refusal of what is; my pure existence and whole participation in the human experience. I just could not look at dance so simply anymore, I needed more from it.

This is when things started to shift.

Most of last year was a balancing act between this half-artist, half-9-to-5 lifestyle I was maintaining. Echoes of scarcity mentality and professional projections (from myself and others) made me hesitant to ever consider a fully independent freelance lifestyle. It’s too risky, the economy, the pandemic, etc. It took quitting three jobs and moving three times (third times the charm, right?) for me to realize that by effect, regardless of if I was ready or not, I was becoming that independent freelance artist. At the start of the new year, I was contracted to perform with Kinetech Arts and Lenora Lee Dance, co-facilitating workshops with my dear friend and mentor Jennifer Bury (a DSP Certified Movement Therapist), managing the Community Engagement Residency with Bridge Live Arts, and taking on client work as independent contractor for small arts organizations. There was no choice but to “take the leap” and fully commit to the projects and people that were making this lifestyle possible for me. And once I did, which was incredibly freeing and terrifying, I was reminded of what I felt so strongly earlier: I needed more from it. I needed dance to engulf me completely. I needed to give it all my existence and participation, in every way I am capable of, onstage and off. It is with pure gratitude that I have found myself in this position, where dance is now something I can professionally pursue and sustain myself with while getting to engage in excitingly different, coexisting parts of the field.

Right now, to maintain this active part of my life, it feels pertinent to employ the practice of artistic discipline, commitment, and patience throughout the processes and work I’m a part of. There have been many beautiful developments and surprising moments this year, and yet that deeper craving for something beyond the limitations of dance as performance, as product, remains. I aim to continue pushing my capacity for deeper meaning and impact beyond the confines of a studio, theater, or any designated space for that matter. I want to research, observe, and conceptualize the movements in the fabric of our society; our problems; our dreams; our complicated and undeniably interwoven lives until there is something physically shifting in and around me. It feels inevitable that my work will constantly challenge the parameters and functions of this field, because I’m not satisfied with the status quo. There is more to this than what we see. And wherever that leads me next, that’s the path I’m going on.

Artists For Justice: www.artists-for-justice.com

2021: age 23

Over the past year, dance has become even more of a deeply intimate and sacred practice of mine; more than I’ve ever imagined it could be. As the world fell apart – both the one around me and the one I had carefully self-constructed – it was the only thing I could return to day after day to deal with the incessant pain, sadness, suffering, grief, disappointment, fury, devastation, fear, and unwelcomed trauma that barged into my life without hesitation or mercy. Like many others, the confinement to a singular space and prolonged social isolation revealed the truth about my mental and emotional stability, making dance not just a preferred method of coping, but essential to my sanity if I were to make it through. Dance became my primary source of healing amidst the pain I witnessed, caused, and experienced in the year 2020.

What once were empty holes of my studio apartment quickly became discovery spots to find new ways of moving, grooving, feeling, existing, and being amongst the uncomfortable; the harrowing; the heartbreaking. Hot tears that collapsed on the floor were met with steady feet, grounding firmly through each metatarsal and muscle. Deep sighs shakily released from my lungs were caught by soft subtle hand gestures, grasping the thin air around me. Pounding headaches and clenched jaws turned into swinging arms and spinal releases. Tense shoulders became ten different ways to twist and turn around my furniture (without knocking things over). Heavy eyelids became hips hips hips gyrating, shaking, sashaying, swaying. It was the saddest, most liberating dance party of one, for one, and no one else.

This daily practice of returning to dance with my head and heart weak taught me how to find healing in myself, in my movement, despite the most calamitous circumstances. My 10 x 10 ft. space may have been small, but dance teleported me to an expansive state where I could feel everything to its fullest extent. It gave me new kinesthetic vocabulary to express myself without filtering, downplaying, or masking the severity and depth of my experiences. It gave me moments of much needed relief and joy when there was so little. Approaching dance through this therapeutic lens transformed the way I understood the practice, not just as a performative act or artistic technique, but as a powerful healing method with untapped potential. I’ve come to see dance as a portal to the most vulnerable and real parts of myself. Its transcending power can reveal such deeply hidden, hurting, and raw wounds that often manifest themselves out in the real world, adding to the chaos that already exists. But by letting dance take us to those places, those dark tender places, and exploring the potentiality of movement as a healing practice, we might be able to find healing in ourselves in ways we could have never imagined.

This is what gave me the strength and courage to make certain strides in my career, my practice, and my personal life after a year like 2020. Since then, I moved back to the Bay Area; choreographed my first commissioned piece; joined a local studio as a new instructor and admin; revamped the Artists For Justice collective and launched our first merch line; reconnected with friends and mentors who have deeply impacted my dance journey; and reentered the dance community with excitement of finally, finally taking class again. There is so much yet to discover about my relationship to dance and how it continues to shape my life, but I will always remember this past year as one of the most formative to my understanding of dance as an intrinsic form of human expression, and therefore also, healing.

2020: age 22

Around this time last year, the triumphant feeling of graduating with a BA in Performing Arts & Social Justice (PASJ) had just started wearing off as I lay down on an airport bench in Lima, Peru. Flashing memories of the last bow onstage; an encouraging comment made in passing; my professor’s sweet smile as I grabbed that costly piece of paper – it was a peak among many valleys that was etched in my memory as one of the biggest accomplishments of my life, but left me with bittersweet affection. As much as I was heartbroken to leave the established (and incredibly supportive) network of creative peers, professors, and mentors who transformed my understanding of dance in academia and the socio-political realm, I felt so plugged in to the safety net of a private, aristocratic university that I lost touch with the real world I had seen before. So, I moved to Argentina, where it all began.

A city brimming with creative energy, Buenos Aires was a place of artistic awakening for me. It’s unique heartbeat of social activism mixed with the diverse talents of artistas urbanos make for daily extemporaneous live performance and public artwork that cleverly layers in social political commentary and redefines Argentinian culture, history, and identity in the 21^st century. The migrant musician bouncing from one subway train to another is not just playing any set of songs; two young males swiveling in the plaza are not just dancing another tango; the graffiti artist enlivening the brick and concrete of a villa is not just creating any mural – they are exemplifying the inseparable connectivity of art and advocacy, poetry and politics, movement and mobilization, a quartet and a quarantine. As I watched their creative play pop up throughout the city, I began to admire, and somewhat envy, the way they fearlessly claimed and displayed their artistry (without needing a degree from a second-tier university to do so). I observed the way they used their art for social change and advocacy more often than for staged performance or acclaim. I watched them return to the same spots every day with the same relentless creative energy, regardless of if people stopped for them. I started to question: what does it mean to be an artist in a world that demarcates “street-art” from real art, valued art, celebrated art, stage worthy art? Who decides what art gets noticed, praised, covered by the media, and funded? How has the artistic world developed its own hierarchical and bureaucratic processes of what it means to be an established and esteemed artist?

That costly piece of paper was staring back at me now, asking me the very question I had been chasing though years of dedicated dance training, taking on performance opportunities, fervently signing up for intensives and workshops, and even pursuing a degree in Dance – what does it mean to be a dancer?

Does it mean taking four to five technique classes a week? Does it mean becoming fluent in Labanotation or getting certified in a variety of movement practices? Is it dutifully preparing for and participating in the competitive audition season for a spot in a company? What about being fully immersed in the dance community with your hands in multiple projects at a time? It is performing for the sake of being seen? Is it a degree that claims you completed a set of curricula laid out by other experienced dance educators, choreographers, and academics? Is it participating in this achievement-centered social construct built on having years of high-quality training, impressive physicality, renowned company status, diligent performance record, or expertise in the academic dance field? Are these the things that define a dancer?

From what I’ve seen in my 17 years of navigating the dance world, the road to “success” seems to be paved by the pursuit of these questions. But here, the road is no longer made of clean-cut marley or sprung floors; it is made out of dirt and stone, scattered with greenery and waste, a crooked pathway leading to an open clearing tucked away in the folds of the earth with nothing but some trees and a few sleeping dogs nearby. And yet, people still gather to sing, dance, and play.

My time in Argentina reminded me what it means to be a dancer in the simplest form. It is a way of relating to; we see the world through movement and understand our relationship to the external through our inner and outer sense of physicality. It is a way of being with; being flexible with our minds, bodies, and hearts as we navigate the world and its shifting realities. It is a way of sensing; we feel the world and we feel how it moves us. It is a way of communicating; we speak this kinesthetic language, often because official languages lack the verbiage we seek to express the most undefinable human experiences.

I brought this reminder with me when I moved back to Seattle in January. As soon as the pandemic hit, I saw it as a universal sign to return to that simple form of dance; one that requires no internet, no Instagram live classes, no virtual dance jams – just me, my body and space. Despite the challenges the pandemic presents, I’ve been cherishing these last few months of physical introversion, of returning to myself. It feels like a homecoming – to my body, to my relationship with movement. It feels like dancing in an open clearing with nothing but the trees and sleeping dogs nearby, except it’s my living room and my dog is watching me curiously from the couch. The pandemic has brought us all home, literally and figuratively, which we all might need as a reminder that our artistic craft is not dependent on our achievements or external pursuits within the dance world. It is within ourselves and is waiting for us to come home.

2019: age 21

This past May, I graduated from the University of San Francisco with a BA in Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance. Don’t worry – I’m still trying to figure out what that means too. Besides coming to appreciate the academic rigor of dance, this program provided me with the most demanding and intimate experience of physical training, choreographic processes, and artistic-development within myself. Between dance classes and late-night rehearsals, I had several “aha” moments that reaffirmed that this was exactly what I want to be doing. Long gone are the days of wondering whether I am meant for this kind of work; now it’s a matter of figuring out how to pursue dance as a career and a life-long practice while continuing to explore the complexity and intricacy of what it means to be a dancer.

This was also the first year that I created original work and presented it to the public. Stepping into the choreographer’s shoes was an incredibly humbling experience in which I realized how enigmatic yet self-revealing the choreographic process truly is. Albeit the hours of corporal investigation, choreographic experimentation, and surely some mental tribulation, by the time we performed onstage, the piece evolved into something beyond ourselves, something we couldn’t have expected; it became its own entity, we were just there to embody it. As someone who had never created a 10-minute piece involving other dancers or even basic lighting cues, I quickly learned that the power to create was a responsibility that needed to be met with equal parts curiosity, receptivity and consistency. Like a child, creativity needs room to grow, play, rest, make messes, throw tantrums, experiment, and discover meaning for itself. Once I accepted this and realized I couldn’t squeeze the life out of creativity to give me exactly what I wanted, I finally felt an indescribable guidance that led me from one choreographic solution to the next. The more I trusted in it, the more it revealed its true nature and meaning to me, rather than me imposing onto it what it should mean and should be. By the end of our process, the initial ideas that first gave traction were no longer paramount. What was more important was putting real stuff onstage, regardless of if it was choreographically compelling, conceptually brilliant, or visually pleasing. This is how I want to define my work: not by its complexity, but by its authenticity.

Now, I am living in Buenos Aires. I decided to move here after graduation for personal reasons, mostly to be with myself in a new context so that I could discover more of who I am, what I am curious about, and how I want to exist in the world. As far as dance goes, I trust that it will continue guiding me as it always has, leading me from one phase of life to the next. Part of me is wondering what other realms of dance I have not yet entered, what rhythms and motions I have yet to discover, which communities and individuals I might meet. That being said, I have no expectations of what my experience in Argentina will look like and I prefer it surprises me. Like the creative process, life is enigmatic and self-revealing in its own ways. I just have to trust it – messes, tantrums, discoveries and all.

2018: age 20

I am entering my final year at the University of San Francisco, where I study Performing Arts & Social Justice. I remember how terrifying it was to transition to this major given that I had a lot of insecurity and doubts about pursuing a career in the arts. However, the inspiration and fulfillment I receive from my supportive group of peers and faculty have secured my decision that this is where I belong. This past semester has re-opened doors for me in terms of artistic collaborations, performance opportunities, and work experiences guiding me towards a future I’ve always wanted but didn’t believe was possible; I am overwhelmed by the vast range of possibilities for a career in the arts. Needless to say, I am eager to move forward with this path and infuse my greatest passions into the work I do here at USF and elsewhere.

What I’ve learned throughout the year is that dance serves a much greater purpose than just a technical art-form staged for performance. It serves as a model for education, a form of socio-political commentary, a therapy for healing the emotional body, a bonding experience between strangers, and a way of establishing oneself in relationship to others. Surely, there are plenty more purposes for dance, but these have been an integral part of my experience over the past year and have shown me that dance can be as powerful off-stage as it is onstage. A lot of my time in school is spent discussing and investigating this off-stage aspect of dance: How can we use creative movements to conceptualize academic curriculum? How do politics and societal issues manifest in our movements? How and where does the body hold onto emotions? What do our gestural and habitual patterns of movement tell a story about what’s going on around us? For me, these questions bring up the more interesting aspects of dance: relational, societal, and emotional ways of relaying and interpreting movement. I am interested in how these aspects are interconnected and how they can help us understand the world through dance and movement.

Aside from that, I am currently working with Jennifer Bury, a movement therapist in San Francisco, from whom I hope to learn about the functions and practices of somatic-psychotherapy through Gestalt therapy, Bartenieff Fundamentals, and Body-Mind Centering. She and I are currently working towards creating a workshop together that will take place here in San Francisco during the fall. In the meantime, I am just trying to understand the essence of movement therapy and build up a knowledge base for later when I graduate and pursue this as a career. With that, I would like to return to something I wrote in last year’s update which was, “It seems that I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply.” I can say now that I have made a solid dent in my pursuit of dance and I am confident that it will continue to shape itself during the next year leading up to graduation.

2017: age 19

I walked into the dance studio of my college on the first day of classes, nervous about what would happen next. I had not danced in six months — would I twist my ankle during the first combination? Would I even be able to balance on one leg anymore? Self-doubt rushed into my mind as I tediously did some stretches before class. I didn’t know what to expect of my body or how it would react to the experience of dancing again. A few minutes later, I was warmly welcomed by my modern dance teacher, Katie Faulkner. She shook my hand in such a way that I instinctively knew she would be very important in my growth as a dancer and a person. Her encouragement was the one thing that kept me coming back to class week after week — she was the first person to believe in me in a long time.

I don’t think I ever felt as liberated as I did after those classes. I always walked out with euphoria and lots of questions on my mind. What does this mean? Should I start dancing seriously again? Do I just keep it as a side hobby? Should I venture out to other studios? Maybe I can do a minor if I work things out with my major (International Studies)? It seemed like a small thing, walking out of dance class high off movement, but it sparked a feeling deep inside me — one that I missed dearly and wanted back more than anything.

However, I silenced that feeling for the first half of the year, only focusing on my major, which I thought would be secure, commendable and expected of me. I could not grasp the idea of going to a private university (and spending thousands of dollars I don’t have) to study anything else but International Studies. I was there on scholarship and felt that I needed to earn a degree that guaranteed money, respect and a job. So, of course, dance took the back seat until I reached a point that broke me into pieces and forced me to reconsider everything.

My second semester was awful. I spent months in emotional and mental darkness, becoming less and less recognizable to myself, losing interest in everything that once mattered to me. I was convinced I had depression and anxiety and nothing could cure it. I hated my classes; I felt so pressured to continue faking my interest in them. I skipped dance classes. I couldn’t sleep at night. I avoided people. The only person I reached out to was the one who believed in me. I sat down with Katie and told her everything. I told her how I was feeling, why I was not coming to class anymore. I told her about my major and how unsatisfied it left me. I told her about my dreams, fears and doubts about dance. What she said to me next was the most comforting and enlightening thing I had ever heard, and drove me to this conclusion:

Pursuing an education in dance offers experiences, lessons and challenges that no other major can offer. In fact, the skills and tools you get from studying dance give you the freedom to take on various jobs, depending on your interests. It cultivates creativity, feeds curiosity, and creates a mind-body connection that makes you a wholesome, life-long learner. Yes, there is risk and maybe not much money, but exploring everything about one’s passion is an invaluable thing — it makes every day, every assignment, and every class worth it. There is something so special about the arts that other academic careers cannot provide (for me at least): that feeling of liberation, euphoria and endless curiosity.

As my first year of college came to an end, I finally knew what I had to do. I switched my major to the Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance, dropped International Studies like a hot potato, and created a plan for the next two years that is fully committed to dance. I felt like a new person. The heavy pressures and expectations lifted off my shoulders with ease. I stopped feeling depressed. I could finally sleep at night. I smiled and laughed and came to peace with certain self-truths that I was denying for so long. I could finally breathe.

I look forward to seeing where this new path takes me, and I hope to discover more and more about life and myself through dance. It seems like I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply. For now, I will be heading down to Argentina in the fall where I will learn how to tango and spend time exploring the world with my new outlook on life and learning.

2016: age 18

It is hard for me to put into words where dancing fits into my life now, but it is simpler to say that I have taken a break from dance. This choice was again for the sake of my health, but this time, for my mental health.

I traveled to Germany last summer for the Dresden Ballet Intensive at the Palucca University. I was so ecstatic about traveling and dancing, since it has been my dream since childhood to do both at the same time and experience such an exhilarating dynamic. And the excitement showed, in my face, in my movements, in my breath; I was sincerely happy! I took classes from some of the most talented European dancers around, and even got the chance to take a Forsythe-inspired class from one of his dancers, Ana Presta. It was another world there. The nagging schoolwork thoughts dissolved into my sweat, the anxiety I had been hoarding left through my breath, and the pressures of my own expectations danced right out of my head.

Fast forward to January 2016, I spent every day in an emotional wreck. Nonstop tears and heaving sighs were poisoning my mind to believe that I have no means to dance and I should just give it up. Who was I trying to take on the world of dance, a place filled with endless talent that I cannot compare to? Am I just dancing because that is what I’ve been doing for the past 13 years and have nothing else to pursue? Do I really love dance, or just like it? Like any bad relationship, I decided we needed to take a break.

Of course, giving up dance is a temporary solution. I need time to think. I need to figure out what I was meant to do on Earth and if dancing fits into that vision. I had always believed it did, because of habit. But dancing should not be merely a habit; it deserves passion, curiosity, focus, creativity, emotion, and so much more. I felt so undeserving to dance, so inadequate of what it demands, that I simply could not bear to do it any longer until I pulled my life together. I am not able to offer dance these things right now, and I will wait until I can. Then, I will return to the beautiful art form that it is, and give it everything I’ve got.

I will be moving to San Francisco in the fall, where I will hopefully start dancing again. Until then, I will be taking care of my mind and body, and resolving this messy breakup with dance.

2015: age 17

My story did not end where I thought it would. I thought I would return to dancing with optimal health and a renewed spirit in the fall, but, it took me much longer to get to that place. Throughout the school year, I did not belong to any studio in particular but rather studio hopped to take the best classes I could find. Really, I just took open classes all year long. There are benefits to this: meeting new dancers regularly, choosing when to take class, and taking from new teachers. For a while this routine satisfied my dancing needs and I found it exhilarating to meet so many new people in the dance world. However, it was only a matter of time before I grew stagnant in progression and felt stuck in a rut. I was not improving the way I wanted to and I felt constantly overstressed during class from working so hard. Teachers noted that my upper body was very stiff and I needed to relax more. But, I just pushed on, working my muscles to extremes that were unhealthy and, ultimately, unproductive.

The other downfall to being a wandering dancer was that all the pressure to challenge myself was in my hands. Open class doesn’t offer the personal attention I needed to improve. So, sometimes I managed to motivate myself in class, while other times I felt terrible about my technique and couldn’t look in the mirror any longer. I was mentally and physically beating myself up with the stubborn hope that that would be the solution. If only I knew what I was getting into.

My physical health started draining. Surprisingly, I had not yet fainted or injured myself, but it took getting to such a crucial state for me to realize I will not be dancing much longer with the way I treat myself. I had become so self-critical nothing seemed to be good enough anymore (even if it was!). I was my biggest critic, worst enemy and toughest teacher.

But everything turned around very quickly. I did whatever it took to regain my health so I could dance again, and that happened easily with lots of cake and sweets. Lots of it. As good as it was for me to gain weight again, I hated the person I was becoming. Looking in the mirror brought me to tears because I felt like I was losing everything I had worked so hard for. I thought I was losing my integrity, my strength and my beauty. More so, I was scared beyond belief what it would be like to dance in this new, unfamiliar body. So I tried it out.

At first it was very uncomfortable. I couldn’t move as freely as before, I felt heavier, and I furrowed my brow at everything I did. I was still the same harsh critic, just in a bigger body.

I decided to try something new for once: I looked in the mirror and admired what I could. I touched the muscle in my legs, felt my arms, twisted and turned to see all angles of my being. I complimented myself and smiled at what I saw. Yes, I felt pretty foolish, but these moments of self-love are what changed me. Dancing started becoming more enjoyable because I only focused on loving it. I became more comfortable with how I move and realized how powerful and strong my body really was. Most of all, I was finally thankful for my bods abilities in dance because those are specific and special to me, no one else. I am beautiful when I dance, and I know it.

No, I cannot do 32 fouette turns or hold my leg up by my head, but I can move in ways that others can’t! I realized it’s not about being able to do it all or doing it perfectly; is about doing what you can do BEST. Dancing is a personal art; you do it however it fits you naturally.

Now, I dance with ease. I practice loving myself daily and admiring all the great things I can do. And in my eyes, this is the greatest improvement I have made all year long.

2014: age 16

I had a surge of motivation in the winter time and was craving more out of dance. I started working harder during class, doing strengthening every day, routinely jogging for cardio endurance and becoming very fit in the process. This lasted until the end of June, and my body was becoming a strong lean machine, or so I thought. I actually started to over-train too much and did not allow my body to rest, resulting in a major fallback for my dancing. It got so bad to the point that I was restricted by my doctor to stop dancing for a while until my body regained its normal state of being. To me, not dancing for several months sounded like torture. But I realized that if I wanted to keep dancing, I must take a break and rejuvenate. So I did. I spent my days stretching and holding myself back from going to the studio. It was a lot harder than I expected!

Eventually my body started to heal naturally, the rips and tears in my muscles were mended, my energy level rose, and my body was able to move again. Once I was allowed to take a dance class, I went in fearing that I had lost all that I had worked for. But to my surprise, I did not lose anything. I gained instead. I realized that I had been abusing the art of dance by treating it as only a physical sport. I had lost my connection to artistry and passion by becoming blinded by my fitness goals in dance. Taking that first class brought me tears of joy because I finally had understood the blessing I have been given: the ability to dance. Not many people have this blessing, and it makes me appreciate the art all the more. Now, every time I step into the studio, a sense of gratitude flows through me and I enjoy myself when dancing. This has brought me to a stronger sense of my artistry and passion for dance.

2013: age 15

This past summer at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance has really made me interested in the diversity of dance and I’m eager to learn more and more. I’m currently very invested in dance and my growth in it, and hopefully will continue that through a professional career. I would say I am totally in love with dance, and it continues to be something I want to do!

The only thing that scares me is college and dance and how that all works out.

~~

The post Felicitas: Vessels of Cellular Composition appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2024: age 25

I sit writing this in my best friend’s house in Utah, freshly finished with the Utah Ballet Summer Intensive, and exhausted but fulfilled. This past year of dance has been full of big milestones, and I am so grateful to have had the opportunities I had. Looking back, although it was layered with successes in the spring, the fall was challenging! This time last year, just after UBSI, I moved out of my mom’s house and into my very own apartment for the first time. Not only that, but five days after I made that jump, I embarked on an international adventure to meet my boyfriend on a cruise he was performing on in Norway! A busy start to a new chapter, but a beautiful experience that I will truly never forget. As soon as I got home, I was thrust into a summer show with Avant Chamber Ballet, which was a dancer produced and run show. I jumped into those rehearsals after about two weeks off and ended up feeling some pain in my right knee. I had been dancing all summer, so I was thinking that it was just fatigued. Unfortunately, after going to my PT a few times, he wrote me an order for an MRI, and I found out that my ACL had been significantly torn, but not fully. And thus, my fourth season with ACB began.

I was out completely for about eight weeks, teaching in a brace with limited movement, not dancing or even exercising at all, and it was rough to say the least. I was quite grateful to not have torn my ligament all the way, but knew that I had to be very patient in my injury’s recovery, which was hard. I sewed costumes, wrote thank you letters to donors, taught, read, and tried to pass the time. There were a lot of ups and downs with the recovery, but after 10 total weeks, I was almost back to my full self in the studio! I did tons of PT at the gym once I was cleared, was gentle with myself in the studio, and all the sudden, I was dancing. Because of my time off, I missed our season opener of Dracula in October, but I was able to dance a bit in Nutcracker, just not nearly as much as in previous years. However, I did get to premiere the role of Mrs. Stahlbaum, which was super fun! I had only ever been a party parent previously, so even though I was only dancing in one divertissement, I had a lot of fun with the show, and was hopeful for more dancing after the holidays.

After the new year, things really got kicked into gear for me. We started with Balanchine’s Walpurgisnacht on January 2-5, which was so much fun to learn and dance. I had previously only done Concerto Barocco out of Balanchine’s rep, and Walpurg was so different, so dancy and bright, and I felt like I could really push my limits. After that, we began staging Swan Lake Act II. I had never done a principal role at ACB before, and I was uncertain if I would have the chance to perform Odette, but after a couple of weeks staging and rehearsing, I was blessed to receive the role. It is hard to put into words how grateful I felt to be able to perform such an iconic role. I have had my sights set on dancing Giselle and Odette for the greater part of my life, and to now be able to say that I performed both in my career is incredibly fulfilling and humbling to say the least. I found myself on stage mere weeks later and had the time of my life bringing that dream into reality.

To my true and utter disbelief, I received two more principal roles that spring. One in our director’s Appalachian Spring, and the other as the lead in Snow White. It felt surreal to all the sudden be in these positions, as I had yet to have that opportunity until February of this year, but by the beginning of May, I had three professional principal roles done, and I could not begin to fathom the gratitude. Of course, this will not always be the case, and I am not expecting the pattern to continue, but I felt so much growth during the process that I know the value will carry on regardless of future casting. It was an honor to be trusted with the roles and everything that came with them, and I will hold the honor and gratitude in my heart forever. Dramatic, I know. But it was really big for me. As a dancer, I have always struggled on-and-off with self confidence in my dancing, and feeling like I am not where I am supposed to be in my journey of progressing, but I could finally feel as though I really accomplished a big milestone in my career, and that I was worthy of it. It was a huge year for me in my dancing career, and I am looking forward to another season at Avant Chamber Ballet starting in about a month!

Following the close of Snow White, I taught a bit, went to a couple of weddings, and then flew out to Utah to return to Utah Ballet Summer Intensive as an RA and teacher for the program. There is something so special about UBSI, and I don’t think I’ll be able to put into words how lovely of an experience it always turns out to be. I’m there with some of my best friends, some that I knew well before the programs, and some that I gained through coming back summer after summer. We are a fantastic team, and getting to dance and work with them, alongside getting to know and teach the blooming students, is such a treasure. Being back on Utah’s campus is so full circle as well. I get to be colleagues with the faculty that raised me from a student into a professional artist, and I get to stay a part of such an important chapter of my life, just in a new way.

I now get to spend two more weeks out in Salt Lake hanging out with my boyfriend Alexander, who’s out here doing vocal training for a month, and my best friend Kelsey, who lives here and is finishing up med school. We have absolutely no agenda in place, just enjoying each other’s company. After one of the busiest years of my life so far, and almost no break from dancing, I am excited to take some time to rest up before the season starts soon.

12 years into this prompt, and I am still dancing, still passionate, and still growing. May the growing never cease. Who knows where this next season will take me? I am starting to understand that I really am good at this, and that I have earned a place in the dance world. The more I believe that, the farther and farther I will be able to reach, and I can’t wait to see what else I will be able to do.

Avant Chamber Ballet’s Snow White, Photo by Dan Huntley

2023: age 24

Gratitude is permeating the fabric of my being as I write this entry; my 11th one for this project, and I cannot even fathom the growth and change that I have undergone during that time. Something possessed me to go back and read all 10 of the previous submissions I have made, and I had tears in my eyes looking back on the steps that have gotten me to where I am. It’s funny to think that when you’re in the moment, you don’t know what it will mean or where it’s taking you, which is BEYOND cliche, but so real. To read my little entries from high school and then watch them get longer and longer through college and up to now is surreal…you know what they say about hindsight. Anyway. Back to the present.

This has been a big year for me, and the more I reflect, the more I can appreciate how much my younger self would be proud. I was promoted at the end of our previous season to a Senior Apprentice, solidifying my place in Avant Chamber Ballet (ACB), and getting me one step closer to the full company status that I have hungered for since my early training. Our season was great, and full of a lot of challenge and joy. Our first show was our 10-year Gala celebration, and it was a true beast of a show! We brought back Barocco, had a new work by Jock Soto, The American by Christopher Wheeldon, and then finished with our director’s lovely Rhapsody in Blue. Then came Nutcracker shortly after, Alice in Wonderland in the spring, then Women’s Choreography Project (WCP) in April to close the season out! WCP was probably the most rewarding show that I have had yet at ACB, not necessarily from a cardio/death-defying lens, but certainly artistically. Jennifer Mabus, who is a brilliant teacher and choreographer that actually taught me back at Booker T. Washington HSPVA years ago, came and created a work on us inspired by her love for tango. It was a contemporary ballet, and I was fortunate enough to get the opening solo for the work, which she later told me embodied her love for tango. It was a beautiful experience, and I was very grateful for the opportunity to move in that way, exploring qualities that I have missed, and working with Jen was a gift. Katie Puder, our director, also created a new work to music by Debussy, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The costumes, the music, the movement all sang in harmony, and I had an incredible time working on it. The opening movement was between me and my best friend in the company, Mackenzie, and we had THE BEST time dancing together. It was a challenge, it was a joy. I was also honored to be chosen to do an adagio solo to Clair de Lune in the same ballet, which filled my heart and soul to the brim. The movement was married to the music, and I was completely submerged in the union. It was probably the work that has felt the most like “me” that I’ve been able to perform since being here. It was a true treat, and I’ll never forget it. To close the year out, I got promoted to full company, and am so looking forward to an incredible next season with ACB.

Alongside a jam-packed season of dancing and performing, I got deep into my love for teaching in new and old ways. I continued to teach at The Dallas Conservatory, ranging from ages five to adult! Each year I have fallen more and more in love with sharing dance and connecting with students, and this year was no different. Besides my classes and weekly private lessons, I was also asked to create a work for the studio’s young competitive team called “Studio Company.” My boyfriend Alexander (hilariously, never before mentioned on this platform though this is my seventh year of loving him) is a musical theater and music aficionado, and gave me a few choices of songs to choose from. We landed on a gripping and gorgeous piece of string music with an intense beat, infectious melody, and inspirational composition. Though I wouldn’t necessarily have called myself a choreographer before this, I choreographed what became Prism, an award-winning piece for these girls. I had eight WONDERFUL girly-pops, and together we created something that I think we are all very proud of. The girls won first place multiple times, and all of that aside, they grew and performed beautifully. It was a really rewarding experience, both in the teaching of the group, and also in just getting to know the girls and their moms. I really grew to love and adore all of them, and my girly-pops will always have a special place in my heart. Teaching has given me so much joy. I never thought that I would enjoy it so much, but I can actually feel the impact and connection that I have with my students, and they impact me as well. It is beautiful to be able to share dance and help others grow as I was helped, and I can only hope to have as positive of an influence on them as I wanted growing up. I was also incredibly lucky to get involved with Avant Chamber Ballet’s First Steps program, where we give free classes and ballet shoes to young students in Dallas, providing free dance training to anyone who wants or needs it. Teaching those kids was incredible because you knew that they really wanted to be there. They were sponges! Anything I gave them they sucked right up and the enthusiasm never died throughout the entire year. I am looking forward to continuing that in the upcoming year, teaching over double the classes I had this year!

Needless to say, I have so much to be grateful for. As I write this, I am sitting in my Utah bff’s house, preparing for my third year as an RA and teacher at the Utah Ballet Summer Intensive, participating in the “other side” of the place that built me up to my professional career. I was chosen to be on the poster for our production of Swan Lake at ACB next year, I was asked to choreograph on the Studio Company again, and my classes are going to fill my non-rehearsal time with hard work and joy (and exhaustion, but let’s focus on the fun stuff for now). I’m moving out of my mom’s house this summer, going on a cruise to visit Alexander as he takes part in the first big gig of his career, and life is good. I recently read a book called An Ordinary Age, which goes deep into the psychology of being in your 20s and 30s, acknowledging so many of the stressors and pressures that people in our age group face, and the biggest takeaway that I got from this incredible book was something that I also read in one of my previous entries: I am already where I need to be. Yes, I will continue to push for my goals. Yes, I will never really “arrive,” but I will experience. Yes, there is so much left to be seen and felt and done. However, the person I am, right now, is enough. The person I am, in this part of my life, is exactly who I am supposed to be. So much can be lost in getting stuck in the past and future (another cliche, but give me a break I’m having a spiritual moment), and I am constantly trying to remember that everything that I need is in my present. The woman that I am deserves recognition, appreciation, and gratitude. Every step that I have ever taken has been taken with my best intentions, and has created me and who I am. I will continue to take these steps, will continue to celebrate myself and what I have done and who I am becoming, will continue to push and work for what I want, but simultaneously recognize that the life I am living is beautiful, and a dream come true. In the words of my younger self, “Lots of unknown, but I do know that I love what I’m doing, and that is enough.” Can you tell my mental health has gotten better?

All of this to say, the road is not easy, but it’s my road! And I love her! All the twists and turns, ups and downs, dips and hills, are mine, and I plan on owning that and living it to my fullest extent. The only thing I can do is what I can do, and that is enough. I am enough.

Photo courtesy Avant Chamber Ballet, photo by Jordan Fraker

2022: age 23

Every time I get the email to participate in this wonderful project, I am blown away that yet another year has gone by. Will I ever be aware of the passing of time while I’m in it? Maybe, maybe not.

This year, like all the others, had its own specific brand of insanity. I taught 10 ballet classes, three privates, two nights of customer service, and danced full time, every week for the whole season. It was busy, it was often overwhelming, but it was ultimately rewarding and growth inducing.

Being an apprentice with Avant Chamber Ballet this past year was a lovely and demanding experience. I was in every show, and in one show was in every single piece in that show(!). We started the season off with Napoli and Ragtime, moved swiftly into Nutcracker and setting Concerto Barocco for the spring, had Barocco and a new ballet by the director alongside a returning work for our spring show, and closed the season with A Soldier’s Tale and Jeux, a ballet choreographed by Fernanda Olivera from Philadelphia Ballet. Needless to say, there was lots of dancing, lots of rehearsing, lots of performing. My favorite show was definitely the first spring performance. I was fortunate enough to be the only apprentice selected to be in the director’s new work, Bartok Duets, and had an absolute blast in both the process and the performance. Being in every piece, especially with Barocco opening the show, was a challenge but extremely satisfying to push through and ultimately enjoy. I felt myself push my own boundaries and improve artistically and technically throughout the year. I will be returning in the fall as a promoted second year apprentice, with weekly pay (!) and pay per performance. She’s on her way up in the professional world, folks! I am excited to continue my journey with the company and will be teaching some classes to little ones at ACB as well as at The Dallas Conservatory for supplemental income. Teaching has been a surprising joy and challenge, but I think there is definitely a future for me in that field.

It would be inauthentic for me to write this whole update without mentioning some hardship. This year has not been easy on me, mostly mentally. I have been struggling with high anxiety and some depressive side effects of that exhausting mindset, and it has been affecting my whole life, especially in the studio. On a good day, I was on top of the world and enjoying every moment. On a bad day, I questioned everything—my body, my abilities, my career, my future, my relationships, my desires. I’ve had anxiety throughout my life, but I think it has come out fully as of the new year.

I participated in a beautiful program, Yoga for Dancers, and a huge part of that was not only building physical strength for cross training health, but also diving deep into our psychological roadblocks and learning a lot about what makes you think the way you do, and what may be holding you back. That, alongside starting therapy to work through the grief and trauma of losing my father almost nine years ago, has opened me up in huge ways, allowing for healing, but the healing begins with the seeing and feeling, and I have been overwhelmed often with what I’ve found, new and old. I’m working through these cycles of feeling, and know that navigating these challenges will be a lifelong experience that will evolve and shift as I do, and hope that I will find more self-love and confidence on that journey.

Dance has yet again proved itself to be my first love, and like any love, there are ups and downs and fluctuations that I am trying to embrace and not shy away from. These struggles and triumphs are informing my artistic growth and trajectory, and I need to remind myself that this path is none but my own, and I need to own that and dive deep into it, holding tight to my intention and passion in this world I have planted myself in.

P.S. I miss contemporary movement. I am still in love with ballet, and I cannot imagine hanging up my pointe shoes, but I do miss moving in that way and hope that I can find a dance home in the future that can satiate my artistic hunger in a fuller way. I am happy at ACB, but something tells me it isn’t my end all be all for my career, and I need to trust in myself and in the universe to guide me to whatever my next steps may be, whenever that change will be made.

2021: age 22

I am continuously amazed by how unexpectedly life unfolds at every turn. At almost any moment in my life, you could ask me, “Is this how you thought life would be a year ago?” And I would laugh and say, “Absolutely not!” And yet, there has been beauty in every moment, despite any and all hardship or trial, and I hold nothing but gratitude for the path I have been on and the path I am forging for myself.

When I was writing my yearly reflection last June, I was taking ballet classes in my living room with a makeshift piece of dance floor and a barre for one. I was awaiting my trip to Chicago to dance with A&A Ballet and see if I would be hired into their company. Oooooh how the tables turned, and how quickly as well! On my first day at A&A, I looked around and realized I was, quite noticeably, the oldest in the room. I turned to one of my classmates and asked her if this demographic was normal, or if it was a result the pandemic. She replied that this past year, there was one girl over the age of 20, but otherwise this was normal.

I, a seasoned 21-year-old at the time, was startled by this revelation. I pressed on, “So how does the company work, is it separate from this program or…?” and she calmly replied, “Oh, we don’t really have a company here.”

BOOM. That was the sound of my heart dropping through the floor. After the pandemic had robbed me of not only my last few months of college, but also my audition season and the beginning of my career, my last hope had just vanished before I even took my first class. I decided to stay calm and simply enjoy being in a studio again, doing what I loved, in a city that I loved, for the next month.

Despite those comforting thoughts, I couldn’t help but start to plan Mission Impossible: Figure My Life Out Amidst Global Pandemic as a Dancer. I decided I needed three things to survive at the present moment: a place to live, a place to dance, and a source of income. I’m a list person, so this actually helped me put things into perspective. I had a couple of options. I could’ve stayed in Chicago and paid to dance with A&A, I could’ve moved back to Utah and figured things out, or I could’ve moved home. After more lists and comparisons, the only option that made sense overall was moving home. That covered the first necessity: a place to live. Income was also covered, as I had been working as a barista and had also been offered a nannying sort of position by a family friend, so check off box number two.

But the most important box, a place to dance, was still muggy. I began sending out even more auditions for dance positions in companies in Dallas. I had never anticipated moving home before this point, so I had not really considered the local companies yet. I also was considering paying for dance classes at night to maintain my technique while I lived at home and saved up money to be a normal human once this all faded away. The last week of A&A arrived, and besides Alexei offering me a position in their training program in Chicago (for about $1000 a month, sheesh), my inbox was empty of offers or replies. I was starting to feel the weight of the unknown and the weight of the pandemic’s losses hitting me.

And then, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, I received a call from Avant Chamber Ballet’s artistic director offering me a full tuition scholarship to be a trainee.

Box. Number. Three.

I was elated. Out of nowhere, when I had felt the most lost, things had fallen into place, and even better than I had hoped. Not only did I have a spot to dance, but it was with a real company, and I was valued enough to be offered a scholarship. It was official: my career had begun. I was going to be just fine.

I came home from Chicago a literal TWO DAYS before my time with Avant began, but was ready to start my next adventure. I, a dancer who had never really had Balanchine training, dove headfirst into a Balanchine company, and adapted accordingly. One of my favorite things about ACB is that although a lot of their repertory is Balanchine or neoclassical, a wide range of styles is practiced, both in technique classes and in performance. I was able to add another tool to my tool belt in getting comfortable with Balanchine movement, while also maintaining my classical training. Even further, we performed a contemporary work by one of my old Booker T. classmates, Madison Hicks. Talk about full circle.

We were lucky enough to be able to perform at an outdoor stage, right next to Booker T. in the arts district. It was a beautiful performing environment and gave us the opportunity to perform during an era of empty stages. We had a set of performances in October, filmed Nutcracker for an online viewing, and had another set of performances in March. As a trainee, I was asked to perform with the company in all these shows but was also a part of trainee-specific performances at a couple of venues between and after company shows! I also feel like my technique has grown a lot with ACB. Eugene and Katie have helped me so much to push beyond my self-created boundaries, finding new potential and fostering new abilities I had not known myself capable of prior to being in this environment. As always, the goal for me is to grow and experience, and I got that and then some, all thanks to the miracle Katie gifted me with last August.

Also! Just to clarify: box number 2, income, was happily replaced by teaching dance after rehearsals and working front desk for the studio as well. Being a barista was fun, but sharing dance was definitely an upgrade. I also started teaching private lessons as well, which is a whole new level of rewarding.

Our season at ACB ended a couple of weeks ago, and it was announced that I was offered a first-year company contract as an apprentice with ACB, and I happily accepted. I am so grateful to be a part of Avant Chamber Ballet, and I look forward to continuing my journey here.

I think ultimately, looking forward, I would like to be in a bigger company, in a city I don’t know so well, dancing Wheeldon, Cerrudo, and Kylian amongst the classics. I know I am on track to where I long to be. And I’m just going to trust that all my efforts and all the love that I have for this art form are going to carry me forward, and that the universe will plant me where I will grow the tallest. If there’s anything I have learned from the past year, it’s that I cannot plan each and every step, because things are constantly inconsistent. All I can do is go forward with love and kindness in every intention and know that my path will become clear in time.

As for the present, I think it’s time for a snack.

2020: age 21

Oh, what a year this has been. It was a year of extreme highs, lows, and unexpected blows. From the very beginning of the school year, it was unusual for me. For starters, it was my last year of college! I had finished my degree the year before and was uncertain whether I was going to return for my fourth year. That summer, I had received an offer from Oklahoma City Ballet to be a trainee but, seeing as it was more of a training program than a job, I decided to return to the University of Utah in the fall. After speaking with my mentors, it seemed like the better option, especially because I was on full tuition scholarship at the U and would have had to pay for the traineeship.

It was my fourth year, and my (second) senior year! I was excited, I was riding the high of performing on Broadway with BalletNext, and I was in the best shape of my life, going to the gym, taking yoga classes, and dancing all throughout the summer so I would be at my best.

And then…I HAMMERED MY FREAKING FINGER. Yes, you read correctly. Hammered it. I was doing work in the garage with my mom, and literally slammed my finger with a rubber mallet so hard that the tendon on my left index finger completely lacerated (a super gross medical word I learned – it literally just means torn-clean-through. Yuck.). I had to get surgery immediately and was told that I wouldn’t be able to exercise or do anything that would produce sweat for SIX WEEKS. Obviously, to a dancer, especially one who had worked her butt off all summer to stay in tip-top shape, that was basically a death sentence. I was bawling in the doctor’s office, feeling as though I was witnessing every dream for this year fade away.

I drove back to Utah with my mom, knowing that everything was going to be different. After all, if I couldn’t even dance as a Ballet Major, what the heck was I supposed to do? About a week being back, I went to see my physical therapist they had assigned to me, and my world completely changed.

“What do you mean they said you can’t sweat? Of course you can. Just keep your brace on, and don’t be an idiot.”

“You mean I can dance?”

“Yes, go for it.”

WOOOOOOHOOOOOO! Once I got the green light to MOVE again, I was on a mission. After two weeks of completely no dancing, I was ready to get back into it, no matter how weird it was going to be. I took barre without ever actually holding the barre for about two months and made the most of the experience. Was it hard? UM, YES. But! I grew so much as a result of that body awareness. Life was hard one-handed, believe me, but I made it work as best as I could, and I made it out the other side with a lot more core strength!

During all that insanity, we also had auditions for the fall show, which included Act II of my favorite ballet of all time, Giselle. I was forlorn at the complication that my tendon and massive splint brought for auditions, but not hopeless. I was going to try my best and hope that the faculty could see that I would be healed in about a month’s time, which would be about a month or so from opening night. And I could still dance fully as long as there were no barres involved, so I figured it was worth a shot. During auditions, I was cut from the contemporary audition, as there was too much floor work and partnering for me to be able to do it with my healing injury. I was extremely upset but knew that didn’t necessarily mean I wouldn’t be considered for the ballet. And then, a couple days later, I got cast as the lead. My dream role was finally being realized. I was Giselle in Giselle. WHAT. I genuinely couldn’t believe it!

The rehearsal process was a dream. I have never felt so invested in a role, so immersed in the character and choreography, so in love with ballet. I worked hard and enjoyed every single second of it. The shows went well, and I can say with all certainty that it was the greatest performing experience of my life to date.

After Giselle, it was November! My splint had been off for about two months, and life was busy and back to normal. We began rehearsing for the next show, and I was choreographing a piece for the Ballet Student Showcase. I started to film all my audition materials, and began audition season in November, as I was looking to do European auditions as well as American ones. Things were busy, but things were good! I got into Grand Audition, which essentially is a massive audition with eight companies all viewing invited dancers at once. This year, it was in Barcelona! My mom and I booked the flights, and that was the first thing in the books for the season. I sent more emails than I have ever sent in my life. I sent my videos to every company I could find, abroad or not. My life was spread sheets, cover letters, resumes, CVs, headshots, and dance photos for like six months! I heard back from a lot of places, and got invited to do two other auditions in Europe, as well as multiple company class and invite-only auditions in the States, and was having so much fun traveling and dancing, chasing my dreams all the while.

And then, COVID-19 hit. And it hit hard. On March 16, I attended an audition at Richmond Ballet, and felt fantastic about how it went. Little did I know that audition would be my last of the season, and the last time I would be dancing in a studio for the indeterminable future. By the time I flew back to Utah, the rest of my senior year was put online, and we were under a worldwide lockdown for the pandemic. It was surreal, and honestly still is.

I began to give myself class in the kitchen, using my countertop as a barre, and doing as much center work as I possibly could. I was even doing pointe on a hardwood floor, being as careful as I could be, and trying, desperately, to stay in shape. In April, my mom flew out to Utah, we packed up my car, and we drove back home to Texas to be together during these uncertain times. I was devastated to leave my home of four years, my best friend and roommate, and my boyfriend. But the one perk? I got to make a little personal dance studio in my house! My mom ordered me a barre as a graduation gift, we bought some shower-pan liner to tape down as a floor, and we moved the furniture out of the way. I was open for business!

For the past few months, I have been training hard six days a week, and have even been able to do complete classes on pointe, thanks to my floor! It has certainly not been what I planned, with graduation being virtually online, finishing out all my classes on Zoom, and dancing in my living room, but I have made the best of it and am honestly proud of myself. I have gained so much awareness of my alignment and feel as though I have been able to grow as a dancer during quarantine, thanks to lots of online ballet class videos, lots of self-correcting, and lots of notetaking. By being forced to really be in-tune with my body, I have found that I am balancing better, turning better, and altogether more aware of what I need to do to improve. I have been doing workout classes, using ankle weights, and have been doing lots of Thera-Band exercises, Pilates, and yoga to make sure that I am in the best shape I can be during these insane conditions. I feel like I am staying in shape well, and have not lost any technique besides grand allegro, since I really can’t do that inside my house. It has been really encouraging to see that I am able to be disciplined on my own, and I am grateful that I have that as an artist.

Looking forward, it’s really hard to say what’s going to happen. For me, for a lot of people, life is kind of in limbo. I am going to be attending a small dance intensive in Chicago with A&A Ballet, which will be an audition to be considered for their main company, and that’s all I have planned for the time being. I sent them my materials during the year, and they expressed interest, but said they could only offer me a paid position after working with me, and it just so happened that they didn’t cancel their program. Safety measures will be in place, but soon, I’ll be in a studio again, and I couldn’t be more excited. Besides that, the cancelled auditions that I had in place are TBD on whether they will be happening this year or just saved for next season, and I am still waiting on some video submissions. Unfortunately, my final European audition in the Czech Republic for Brno Ballet was cancelled, which was devastating after making it through the pre-screening process. However, I know that all this is out of my control, and I am just trying to stay in shape and optimistic, knowing that everything will end up working out, one way or another.

In a speech that Brené Brown gave to UT Austin’s graduating class, she discussed her career path and how, though all the hardships she faced, things ended up working out for her. She assured us that the same would happen for us, “But it will not be on your terms, and not on your timeline.” That really resonated with me, as this entire situation is not on my terms or my timeline, and a lot of my path has been the same way. However, just as the beginning of this year worked out for me despite all the obstacles I faced, I know that my professional career will work out, one way or another. The only thing I can do is everything I can: stay in shape, stay determined, and let my love of ballet fuel every step I make. In Frozen 2, Anna has a whole song revolving around the quote, “Do the next right thing.” I think that just about sums it up. I have not, and will not, be beaten down by this pandemic. Yes, things look different than I expected, but there hasn’t really been a time in my life when that wasn’t true. I am here to take on the life that has been thrown at me, and I am here to make the best of it. In the words of Lin Manuel Miranda, “I am not throwing away my shot.” Bring it on 2020. You haven’t knocked me down yet.

2019: age 20

This year I began my transition into the professional realm of the world I’ve loved since I can remember. A crazy year indeed, but a great one nonetheless. It began with me deciding at some point last year to condense my studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program into three years instead of four, so I doubled up on my dance classes. On top of that, I participated in every show! I was casted as the soloist in Melissa Bobick’s Fractured, which we took to California to compete in a choreographic competition in November. Then, I worked with two of my best friends in their student choreographic works, while simultaneously getting thrown into Michele Wiles’s company, BalletNext, to rehearse for my New York debut! I was also fortunate enough to be cast as a gossip girl in Bruce Mark’s version of La Fille Mal Gardée at the U. We rehearsed nonstop for this full-length experience, and it worked out great in the end!

The day after La Fille closed, I was on a plane to the Big Apple for a costume fitting, rehearsal, then a week of shows at New York Live Arts in Chelsea. It was an incredible experience as we were fortunate enough to share the bill with Amar Ramasar and Maria Kowroski. Being able to watch these two perform a duet as well as being able to perform in two of Michele’s own pieces in my favorite city was something that definitely will continue to shape me as a dancer. We ended up having another round of shows in upstate New York at Kaatsbaan, which was incredible, and I recently returned to the city to have another round of shows at the New Victory Theater on Broadway! Working with Michele has been amazing for me and has really changed the way I approach movement, especially with turning. I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has given her dancers.

Additionally, the week after we returned to Utah from New York the first time, my audition season began. I had five in-person auditions and sent videos to many! Got a lot of great feedback and even more great experience, and I am currently in Oklahoma City with OKCB to get further evaluated for a job with the company! This will be the deciding factor as to whether I return to the U in the fall, but no matter what, I just gotta keep pushing for it. Something I learned this year through everything is that a lot of auditioning is being in the right place at the right time, and that some seasons are just going to be harder to land a job than others, whether that’s because of look, availability, or anything else. It is a HUGE lottery, but the important thing for me is to just try to do my best at all times, and take the waves as they come! I will find my place in the professional world, be it this year or next. I just have to show myself to the world and follow the tides.

Another thing I did this year was participate in my first (and likely last) ballet competition! I competed two variations, Giselle Act I and Raymonda’s Daydreams, as well as my own choreographic contemporary piece, Ellipsis, in the American Ballet Competition in early June. I ended up placing third overall in the classical division and got a scholarship to attend a Bournonville workshop. It was a really great experience to work closely with Christopher Alloways-Ramsey, who is on faculty at the U. I balanced these intense classes and rehearsals with him with working with Michele, which was challenging but do-able, and totally worked out in the end.

I am so glad that I participated in everything that I did this year, and taking a second to sit and write it all out shows me that I am capable of so much, and need to continue to partake in everything I possibly can in an effort to know that I am doing everything I can to get to where I need to be. That’s all I can do, and it will be enough. I’ll never settle. In the words of Billy Joel, “Only fools are satisfied.” What a year it has been.

2018: age 19

Six years into this project, and dance is still my bread and butter. I’ve never loved something so much or been so passionately involved in anything, and I know that I’m in the world I’m meant to be in.

This year was my sophomore year at the University of Utah’s ballet program, and it was transformative to say the least. From the beginning, I was met with unexpected challenges, and I truly felt as though I grew the most I ever have in one year’s time. I was moved up to the senior ballet level as a sophomore, so not only was I challenged in technique, but I was also on my own, completely unfamiliar with my peers and the new teachers. Being thrown into this environment was at first a little jarring, but I quickly realized that it was a sink or swim situation, and I was determined to stay afloat. Being able to look up to my older peers and learn through example as well as through the wonderful staff, I was pushed to grow each and every class. I also switched pointe shoe brands from Gaynor Minden to Suffolk Solo Prequels, which changed a lot for me for the better.

I also did a lot of performing, taking on not only ballet department programs, but extra shows through the modern department as well! I performed in Konservatoriet in the fall, coached by Jeff Rogers at Ballet West, then participated in a modern grad show thesis, performed in Jay Kim’s faculty work while struggling with Achilles tendonitis, and finally was a part of Nicholas Gibas’ senior piece, which was an amazing experience. We had danced in Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge the year prior together, so it was truly an inspiration to work with him again. I also found a love for choreographing, and will be exploring this side of myself more. In the choreographic classes in which I participated, my work was met with praise and constructive criticism, so I hope to continue to seek growth, change and developments in this facet of dance. This summer, I will be attending American Ballet Theater’s ballet intensive in New York, as well as the University of Utah’s summer intensive to get some ballet BFA credits taken care of while also staying in shape for this upcoming crazy year.

Another development in my dance life is that I made the decision to audition for ballet companies this upcoming year! This potentially would mean graduating early, which I am currently on track to do, and beginning my ballet career next year. I am extremely terrified but simultaneously eager and excited to put myself out there. This has been a dream of mine for so long, and knowing that I am on the cusp of beginning that professional journey is thrilling. While I understand there is a lot of potential for failure, I know that I will not stop trying until I make it, and that failure is only fuel for the journey. I look forward to the year ahead, and all the years to come. Somehow, everything’s gonna fall right into place, and I cannot wait to be planted and begin blooming into the artist I seek to become.

2017: age 18

This past year has been one of the craziest and most exciting of my life! I started school at the University of Utah School of Dance as a ballet major, and was lucky enough to get to perform in every show! We did Les Sylphides in the fall, and I had a solo in a contemporary piece in the spring, alongside a duet in Stephen Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge in April.

I went through a lot of personal growth as well, realizing more and more that I am truly the only one who is in charge of where my life and dance career takes me. Though I cannot predict the future, all that matters is that my passion will never die and that my work ethic remains as strong as it can be. It is really nice to be supported by my faculty, and they give me valuable advice and corrections. They also gave me great feedback in conferences, and I look forward to continuing my time there, working toward my goals through my love of the art form.

I’m currently studying at American Ballet Theatre for the summer program, and have loved every moment. I think this would be my ideal place to dance when I’ve gotten older and better (fingers crossed), but I am keeping my options open, knowing that as long as I put my entirety into my endeavor, I will end up where I need to be. Lots of unknown, but I do know that I love what I’m doing, and that is enough.

2016: age 17

Dance for me has been a continual passion that I don’t ever think will cease. I have loved it for as long as I can remember and I will continue to love it with all of my being. I just graduated from Booker T Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, which was the best thing that has ever happened to me (the school, not leaving it). I am continuing my dance studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program where I hope to become a trainee with Ballet West. I am on the waiting list for Juilliard at this point in time, and though that is my dream school, I know that if I don’t get in in the end, I will have another good option waiting for me. I am currently studying at Joffrey Academy of Chicago for the summer, and I’m having a great time learning from all of the faculty as well as my classmates. I can only push forward and hope that all that I am doing is propelling me towards where I want and need to be.

2015: age 16

Dance is my soul’s way of getting out of my body. I have never felt freer or more alive than within the moments of movement that I am lucky enough to be able to do most days of my life. I am going into my senior year in high school at Booker T. Washington HSPVA, so I am dancing and growing every day. I am nervous about applying and auditioning for colleges, conservatories and companies this upcoming year. I hope for the best. I know I will end up where I am meant to be, and while that is in the back of my mind, the nervousness and anxiety is still present. I recently was Belle in my studio’s ballet production of Beauty and the Beast, which was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I truly had a fantastic time learning the part and being able to dance with my partner Paul again. I cannot wait to continue my passion for dance as long as I can, and I hope my career has just begun.

2014: age 15

Dance is my passion, and has been for as long as I can remember. I can’t see a time where it won’t be. I hope to be a professional one day, and am currently at a performing arts high school where I am pursuing a career. I hope to grow as much as I can every single day and know to be patient with myself as growing is a process, not a destination.

2013: age 14

Dance is my everything right now. I go to Booker T. Washington HSPVA for dance, and I hope that I will be able to have the wonderful opportunity of making it my career. I dream of dancing professionally, and I will do whatever it takes to make the dreams come true! Dance is my passion and has been for a long, long time and I never want to know what life is like without it.

The post Sydney: I Have Earned a Place appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2024: age 28

Recently I was in a strength training workout class where the instructor asked me, “Are you a dancer?” After a brief moment of pause, I responded “Yes”. Not because I am actively dancing or still pursuing it as a career, but because it is a part of my identity, and I acknowledge that my many years of training are still very prominent in the way I present myself and move through space. I wonder if this will always be the case…

However, this was also the first year that I felt I may not respond with an entry. It is the first year that “dance” has truly felt so removed from my life that I really do not have anything to say. When I speak about dance in my day-to-day life, it is in the past tense, a true chapter that has come and gone; a different version of myself where the memories are floating further away and harder to recall.

I write this as my final entry to Stance on Dance, and thank Emmaly for her incredible work preserving and keeping this project alive for so many years.

Xoxo,

Alexandra

2023: age 27

This year’s update is there is no real update. My love, appreciation, and physical embodiment of dance lives within me and is not going anywhere. I am still teaching Jazzercise, dancing my ass off at bars, weddings, clubs, etc. and enjoying watching others create movement through live performance.

Let’s all keep moving and have a little more dance and joy in our lives!

2022: age 26

As expected, my relationship with dance has continued to manifest into a completely new iteration this past year. I still identify myself as a dancer. I still say, “I used to dance professionally and freelance” because it’s still a part of me and always will be. However, I’ve accepted and appreciate the fact that it may be a chapter in my life that has come to a close, and that is okay.

Even though I have not set foot in a dance class in over a year, I still say, “I dance recreationally,” which is true. I teach Jazzercise multiple times a week, I dance with friends at the club, bust a move at weddings, and record random dances for TikTok because this is the way I express myself – through dance, through movement. Whether or not I am pursuing dance as a career does not legitimize the fact that I continue to dance through life with movement being the true essence of my soul.

My fondest “dance” memory from the past year was at a DCOM (Disney Channel Original Movie) party my friends and I hosted. We had an awesome playlist filled with mid-2000s classics from our childhood era. Two of my friends and I decided to set-up the camera to make a “TikTok” and proceeded to dance and record ourselves for almost 20 minutes. As three former dancers, we busted out pirouettes, splits, high kicks, and anything else flashy for the camera. We were sweaty, exhausted, but filled with joy and smiles by the end. This was a flashbulb moment that truly encapsulates my love for dance.

I would be remiss not to mention my other “movement practices” from the past year. I took up running and completed two marathons in November and January. The act of running is meditative. A repetitive motion not often used continuously in dance, nor used as a form of cross-training. I still remember many of my old school dance teachers telling me not to run because it would “shorten my muscles.” I equate many of these long runs to durational improvisation practices. The hard part is not doing the physical act but committing myself mentally to set out and complete a task that lasts longer than one hour. It is difficult staying inside of it – committing to staying active in the practice or committing to keep moving even when I’m exhausted. All these different physical challenges intrigue me, pulling at my need to be goal-driven and just do the damn thing. Our bodies are stronger than we know and sometimes it’s fun to test them.

Here’s to another year of dance, another year of reflection, and another year of gratitude towards my body that supports me and my need for movement every single day.

2021: age 25

I knew this blog entry was coming, and I’ve been dreading it ever since I accepted my full-time Biddable Associate position at Croud, a digital marketing agency, back in March 2021. I knew this was going to be the hard one. The one where that little sliver of childhood dream drifts away, but I could not be happier. I truly feel 100 percent that this move is correct for me in this moment.

I always knew I was more than dance. I always knew I had more to offer to the world besides being a dancer, choreographer, and artist. However, I never realized how much dance was intertwined with my identity to others and how difficult it would be to try and divorce myself from this view. When I see friends and family I haven’t seen in a while, I excitedly exclaim to them that I have a new job in digital media with this super cool UK-based company. I can immediately see the looks on their faces “…but what about dance?” I just smile and say, “I am taking a break for a bit. It will always be a love and passion of mine, but we are just seeing where this other path takes us.” I try not to read into their disappointed looks and assume they are thinking “she’s giving up on dance” because I’m not. I am pivoting, just like so many others did during the pandemic and just like I knew may always be a possibility for my future.

But dance isn’t going anywhere. Dance IS intertwined in my identity, and I could not divorce myself from it if I tried. Movement is so ingrained within my being that I can barely go a few days without exercising or moving my body someway through space. Dance is presenting itself in new ways: becoming the dance floor queen at all these post-COVID weddings, continuing to teach Jazzercise, and making fun, silly TikTok videos of dance moves I get to share with people all over the world. Not to mention new movement explorations… I will be running the TCS NYC Marathon on Nov. 7, 2021! These are all things that keep me excited and motivated to keep moving.

Nothing is permanent, and I know dance will always be there for me if and when I choose to return in a more full-time, devoted capacity. For now, I keep moving, smiling, and being grateful for all the amazing skills, memories, and opportunities dance has taught me throughout my years.

2020: age 24

I was all set to perform with Harper Continuum Dance Theatre in Georgia on March 20 when the entire country shut down. We had been working on this show for many months, and the company was so looking forward to performing and interacting with students at local schools. Fingers crossed we will be able to reschedule and put on the show sometime in the near future.

Over the past year, I have made a definite shift in the type of dance work I am pursuing. I started auditioning for more commercial and theater type work. I want something with a contract, something that would actually pay my rent and be my only job. I had been doing a fair amount of freelance and project-based work over the past two years but wanted to make a change.

I began taking singing lessons in the fall and actively reached out to other dancers who have had successful performing careers in the entertainment industry with jobs such as cruise ship and theme park work. If you would have asked me four years ago in college if I would be pursuing this type of work, I probably would have scoffed at the question, but right now it not only feels relevant but a sustainable form of dance for me to pursue into adulthood. I also began taking more jazz and theater classes and re- fell in love with a type of dance I used to train in exclusively when I was younger. Jazz is what I started with many years ago and had been a love of mine up until I went to college and left it for more intense ballet and modern training. Over this past year, I have rediscovered a child-like love for dance that makes me joyful and excited to move.

I have also found “performance opportunities” in the many open call auditions I began attending. Get up at 6 a.m., do your hair, put on a full face of makeup just to put your name on a list and hope you get seen before lunch. Go grab a coffee and then sit in a room with a hundred (or more) other hopeful dancers waiting for your moment to show the casting team some semblance of your talents. This process would happen day-after-day and especially so in high audition season January through March. I still had many more auditions on my calendar before the COVID-19 outbreak.

I remember making a commitment to myself at the beginning of the year that this would be the year I become a “professional dancer,” sign my first contract, and truly prove to myself that this is something I can do. Now with the current situation, I do not know if I can keep that promise.

On March 17, I left New York City and came to Houston, TX to reside with my family until things settled down in NYC. I have been here ever since but have plans to return mid-August. The first two months were difficult. I had no motivation to take class even with the hundreds of FREE online dance classes being offered. It just didn’t feel relevant. How am I going to take this silly dance class when people all over the world are dying from this horrible virus? But I kept at it; taking classes here and there when I wanted to and trying to stay connected with my online dance community.

I am still skeptical on what my dance future will hold. With the recent closure of Broadway until 2021, it is hard to believe much (if any) performing arts will be back in the fall. I have contemplated taking some time off from dance and pursuing other ventures like more marketing work until things return to “normal.” However, the thought of moving into a traditional, more stable full-time job scares me. In my mind it equates to the end of my dance career. I know this isn’t true, or maybe it is. However, it’s starting to feel more and more like the correct move to make for the current situation.

I guess you’ll just have to tune in again next year to see how this all pans out…

Photo by Heather Harper

2019: age 23

I am coming up on my one-year mark of living in New York City. I moved here in August 2018 and am just now starting to feel settled. I am so thankful for the support of my family who helped me make the move and all my friends who have made NYC feel like home. I’ve truly felt supported every step of the way!

Here are a couple things I’ve learned…

1. The NYC hustle is real
2. Life as a dancer is hard
3. The term “making it” doesn’t really mean anything
4. It is possible to have five part-time jobs
5. College did not prepare me for the rigor of auditions
6. But it doesn’t matter because auditions are just a formality
7. The mental game is half the battle
8. I truly love to teach (my younger self is eating crow)
9. You’ll always run into someone from some past dance intensive (I recently reconnected with Ayala at a Cunningham workshop – we attended the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance together in 2013)
10. I’ve rediscovered my passion for dance!
11. Being able to pay rent is the ultimate accomplishment
12. How to pack for a dance class, work, teaching Jazzercise, and a dinner date all in one backpack and still carry it around all day long
13. Surround yourself with the BEST people – friends will fuel you
14. **Everyone is on their own timeline**
15. How to live with less
16. I forgot how much I loved jazz (guess who bought a pair of LaDucas)
17. Seeing dance is my new classroom
18. Taking class is part of my job
19. BE PATIENT!
20. How good it feels to truly be happy!

Here’s some of the dance things I’ve done:

• Attended 25+ auditions
• Performed a solo adaptation of my piece MINDSCAPEat SMUSH Gallery in Jersey City, NJ
• Performed with Harper Continuum Dance Theatre at the Ailey Citigroup Theater
• Got hired for a project called Musicals with a Message where I got to dance on the subway
• Reconnected with one of my favorite choreographer friends, Ross Daniel, on a new piece
• Started planning/organizing a new performance platform with my collaborator Sarah Rose in Vermont
• PLUS many more things on the calendar this summer!

2018: age 22

Here we go! I just graduated in May from Florida State University with a BFA in dance and a BS in marketing. I am getting ready to move to New York City in August to pursue my dream of being a professional dancer. I would be lying if I did not say I was a little scared. Dancing in New York has never actually been my dream (I always envisioned myself on the West Coast). However, it seems like the best move for me right now as I have many friends and contacts up there who I believe can help support me during this transition. I do not actually know what the “life of a professional dancer” entails. I see myself doing more project and freelance work but possibly joining a larger company in the future. I guess you’ll have to tune in next year to see how it all pans out…

My senior year was a challenging one. Trying to keep up with finishing both majors, preparing for the future, and trying to enjoy my last moments of college proved to be almost impossible. I also incurred my first major dance injury. (I had been pretty lucky up until this point!) I was attending the New Dialect winter intensive in Nashville when I broke my toe right before my last semester. This took me out of technique classes for most of the semester. (Thankfully, I had enough credits that this was not a problem.) Instead, I enrolled in the Cross-Training for Dancers course that is provided by the FSU dance conditioning staff for dancers who are unable to fully participate in technique class. I am truly indebted to the conditioning staff for helping me create a conditioning program personalized to me and my injury that kept me optimistic and motivated during this trying time. My conditioning program involved not only injury rehabilitation but also increasing capacity of other muscle groups and areas of weakness that I may not have been able to focus on in the past. I am now fully recovered and back into regular dance classes. I can’t wait to try all the new and exciting classes in NYC!

Also, I choreographed my first official piece, entitled MINDSCAPE, which was selected for the FSU Days of Dance performance in April. This was something I had been wanting to do for a long time, and I am happy I finally pushed myself to do it. The process of creating a new work was both invigorating and exhausting all at the same time. Thankfully, I was blessed with an amazing cast who came on this crazy ride with me. I cannot thank them enough for their dedication and support as I navigated my own choreographic process. I have attached a pic of me and my cast!

2017: age 21

I am about to start my senior year at Florida State University. I will be graduating August 2018 with my BFA in dance and BS in marketing. I have worked really hard to achieve both majors, and am excited to complete them both with just an extra summer of classes. This past year has been a really telling one for myself. I have come into my own within the FSU dance program and have been able to make educated, more mature decisions. I had the pleasure of working with Suzanne Farrell in the fall of 2016, when she set Stars and Stripes on a group of dancers in the program. I am not sure how much longer I will be continuing pointe work, but I still love it and want to continue until I can’t. Additionally, I was given the opportunity to be a rehearsal assistant for guest choreographer Andre Zachery. This gave me a completely different perspective on the choreographic process, and trained my eye in a more specific way of watching dance.

Being a junior, I did have more seniority, but I feel like I finally learned how to say “no” and how important that can be to my health, happiness and drive to continue dancing. I was less concerned with the quantity of dances I was in but more focused on the quality. I only chose to be in pieces where I knew the choreographer or had a clear desire to work with them. I was not in a mental place to start a new process with a new choreographer. I found the value in working with a single choreographer for an extended period.

Over the past three years, I have had the pleasure of working with now MFA graduate Ross Daniel. We have established a great dancer-choreographer relationship, and he has me doing just about anything. When you find that comfort with a choreographer that you just want to give them everything you have and more, it is a really special thing. This past year, I worked with Ross on his MFA thesis concert, entitled Infinite K, which included a 25-minute work with him, myself and two other female dancers. Never have I been with such a tight-knit group of dancers in a rehearsal process. It was absolutely amazing to work with people I trust and would do anything for. A section of his work was selected to be shown at the Southeast Regional American College Dance Association conference at the University of South Florida in March of 2017. I think it was the most important work I have done up until this point. It taught me so much about myself, my own love for choreography, and what type of creative process I want to be involved in.

After being involved in Ross’ work and having an amazing composition class with Gwen Welliver, I am ready to embark on my own choreographic journey. Up until this point, I have never had the desire or drive to choreograph. Now I can’t wait to get into the studio. I think it will open a whole new world of my dancing. On top of that, I have officially decided I want to dance professionally after college, and plan on auditioning for companies throughout my senior year. Don’t ask me where, don’t ask me who, don’t ask me how! I don’t know the details yet but I just know I’m doing it. My goals for the summer are to work on my reel, develop a website, and update my resume. Additionally, I will be participating in the Axis Connect summer intensive in late July, and hope to connect with a lot of new artists.

More than ever before, I am just so excited about my dance career, all the possibilities, and where it might take me. I have definitely seen a shift in my thinking over the past year as I slowly make the transition from student to professional artist. I am constantly thinking about networking, getting my face out there, taking care of my body, etc. I will be riding this momentum all the way through senior year!

2016: age 20

This past year in dance has been an interesting one. After finishing another great four weeks at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance, I started my second year as a BFA dance major at Florida State University. This past year taught me the lesson of not overextending yourself the hard way. I involved myself in too many dance pieces and projects, and my body suffered as a consequence. The 13-hour days plus my 19-hour course load left me exhausted and tired for most of the semester. I loved all the performing, but it had a negative effect on my studio performance. I often found myself tired and unmotivated in the classroom, which is something I had never experienced before. I quickly learned that overextending myself did not push me as a dancer but actually had negative effects on my wellbeing. However, this pushed me to make some hard personal decisions about what I want my future to look like. Even with the hectic schedule and lack of motivation, I came to the realization that performing is my favorite thing and what I want to do as a profession. I have committed myself to doing anything and everything in my power to get there and fulfill my dream of being professional dancer. The time I recently spent  studying abroad in Paris helped revitalize my motivation and open my eyes to different ways of moving and understanding dance. I took a variety of contemporary classes that really felt like they suited me and my movement style. This was encouraging — to know there are choreographers out there who I could see myself working with. On top of it all, I saw so many amazing dance performances, including work by Pina Bausch, Hofesh Shechter and Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. The choreography and dancers were unlike anything I have seen before and left me speechless every single time. It would be a dream to perform for any of these companies! I will keep this dream in mind as I start my third year at FSU and move back into the studio with a fresh perspective and revitalized motivation.

2015: age 19

It has been an amazing year of dance as I started my freshman year at Florida State University. I chose this BFA program because I thought it was the best choice for me but I never imagined how much I would love it! My perspective of dance has completely changed as I have been exposed to so many different people with various styles and backgrounds. I love being able to study dance in a university setting. There is so much support for new, innovative choreography. For me personally, my modern skills have greatly improved as I took different modern and contemporary classes four times a week.

To continue the growth I experienced during the school year, I have chosen to come back to the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance for session three. The Conservatory was very transformative in my dance career two years ago and I cannot wait to see where it takes me this year!

2014: age 18

This past year has been quite the journey as I prepare for the next step in my dancing career. I have been everywhere from Arizona, Florida and Oklahoma auditioning for college dance programs and sent in DVD auditions to even more universities. I received multiple letters of rejection that made me question the path I was taking. It wasn’t until I auditioned at Florida State University when I truly knew I was making the right decision. Their program was exactly what I was looking for as it focuses on multiple disciplines and allows for choreographic development of their students. The university was also beautiful and exactly what I was looking for in the traditional college experience. This fall I will be attending Florida State University and pursuing a BFA in dance. I also plan to double major in marketing. I am not going to any intensives this summer but plan on working on my technique at my local studio before leaving in the fall.

2013: age 17

Currently I am in a pre-professional dance company outside of Houston called Kingwood Dance Theatre. I am preparing to start applying for colleges and audition for dance programs. I feel that this past year I have experience significant growth in my dancing, especially in my upper body. Attending the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance summer program has pushed my dancing to another level and given me an even larger opportunity for growth! I feel this growth and maturity will help guide me in the right direction in choosing the college dance program that is best for me. I still have so far to go before I am ready for the professional dance world but I hope the steps I am taking right now lead me in that direction. I’m not going to lie — I ask myself everyday if I am good enough to get into any college dance programs, but I will work hard for these next couple months and see where life takes me.

The post Alexandra: Removed from Dance appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2024: age 28

I am a dancer, dance teacher, choreographer, and founder of Dragons Dance 501c3 dance company. This past year I have focused on building a more sustainable dance/movement practice for myself. I believe that if I can create more sustainably, then I can share my practices with a larger community of people.

A more sustainable dance/movement practice looks like properly warming up, cooling down, and adding supplementary exercises – with weights! It also entails not scheduling towards burn-out, setting up clear contracts, creating stable pay structures, and clarifying pathways of communication within Dragons Dance (even if it’s a lot of me communicating with myself right now.)

My dance/movement practice looks different from month to month. There are ebbs and flows in both my capacity for creative output and Bay Area space availability. Four weeks ago, I spent much of my dance/movement practice time in “admin-land” making budgets, creating content timelines, and coordinating with artists via email. Right now, I am in an active creation period as I prepare to share work during a residency with Helen Wicks Works at Space 124, a project space in Project Artaud.

I have been deeply considering sustainability in my dance/movement practice in the past year because managing the ebbs and flows of my workload as an emerging artist is not easy. It is a constant challenge for me to balance staying present in the moment, preparing for future work, and archiving a past portfolio. I want to create dance all the time, and I want to be able to consistently invite more and more people to dance with me.

I love it. I feel so lucky to do it every day.

Photo by Kat Lin

2023: age 27

Right now, my movement practice has two heads. One looks like carving out time to rest, watch TV (mostly cartoons and animations), play video games, or do nothing. The other looks like setting up routines, spending time in the sun, taking weekly dance classes, and actually doing my physical therapy exercises. The resting head seeks to find solace in the present moment. The routine-oriented head aims to create opportunities for regular self check-ins. These two heads are working in tandem so my imagination can run wild.

In late May 2023, I produced a weekend of dance titled We Aren’t Alone Here. I paid visiting and local artists to create new works for a public performance. I choreographed and performed in my work. I hosted the show, and I taught workshops throughout the week. I also did all the admin and marketing for the event. The whole thing was a lot of work, and one month later I am still decompressing. However, I had a blast doing it. I loved the energy we cultivated throughout the weekend, and I am proud of the work I premiered on stage. I learned that I am definitely capable of doing all the necessary pieces to produce a dance show. In reflection, I learned that next time I would prefer to share the load of responsibilities.

I feel like a blank canvas. Many times in my past I would rush to get away from this feeling by immediately jumping into new creative projects. This time I am relishing the opportunity to keep the canvas blank.

Check out more of my work emerging at dragonsdance.com.

Photo by Robbie Sweeny

2022: age 26

This past year marked a few serious steps for me as an artist. I apprenticed as a lighting designer under a local technical director. I collaborated with artists to design and run lights for their shows. I practiced video editing and sound design. I began addressing emotion in my dancing. I learned I love to choreograph. I started to use Dragons Dance, the dance company I founded in 2020 with 501(c)(3) status. I hired and paid dancers whom I adore. Together, we premiered Dragons Dance’s first in-person show.

I seem to be processing a transition. I’ve done things I’m really proud of. I’m not sure what to do next. I can’t exactly tell what is changing. It seems to be my relationship with dance. I hate change, but this one feels good.

I have affirmed that it is up to me to create my own path as an artist. Depending on when you ask me, this is beautifully freeing or completely overwhelming. I can go back and forth about the pros and cons, but what settles my conscience is knowing there is space for all artists if we all make our own way. If I can be completely unique while recognizing the same in others, then we can all find our own success.

At the core, I believe it is worthwhile to treat artists well. I’m having fun with this in practice, so I’ll tell you more about it next year.

Photo by Erin Yen

2021: age 25

In short, I am spending time and energy towards myself. Last year was an introspective one. I am hoping to take the lessons I’ve learned and bring them forward in my practice with positive energy.

Today you can find me taking “Omega Floorwork” classes and holding space for creativity. Whether in a studio, outside, or at home, I recognize that space is a valuable resource – one that is crucial to my understanding of dance. This past year I learned that I heavily associate dance with how it occupies space. I like to compose movement in space through time. Having little space to dance in my San Francisco apartment, I tried to dramatically shift my perspective. I couldn’t. I instead have begun to deeply recognize how (available) space is socioeconomically divided. Space is a privilege.

I’ve additionally submitted to the fact to that I need to take dance classes my entire life. I think awhile ago I knew that a journey through dance was an endless one. I thought I was clear about how I would have to constantly reinvest time and energy into my own body to reap the results of creative potential. In reality, it took a couple years post-graduation to embody that knowledge. Everything shifts when you have a lifetime of bills to pay!

2020: age 24

I’m dancing only sometimes, but I’m dancing for me.

It feels strange to think of the past year as half in 2019 and half in 2020. I definitely took 2019’s casual experiences around human connection for granted. An emerging, young artist, and somewhat introverted at that, by nature I have not (yet) grounded myself in community. At the turn of the decade, I knew 2020 would bring massive change and I was determined to throw myself physically into dance. All the while, January’s nagging, unstable cloud loomed. It warned that we could not continue as we have been. I felt the creaks in my knees, I heard my body shout for change, but I had only known one way of being. I wasn’t ready for this.

This is new, scary, but my senses are open to people’s vast differences in new ways. I am thankful for the time to invest in a different way of being. I’m listening more deeply, to my own body and to others. I’m seeking out information that isn’t readily at my disposal (becoming a better Googler and asking others in my community who know more than me). In reflection, Michael Jordan’s The Last Dance sticks out. Alongside showcasing the intricacies of teamwork and tenacity, this 10-part documentary series emphasized staying present in the moment. I have heard the lesson “stay present” before.

This time it feels new.

2019: age 23

I always enjoy responding to this prompt. It brings me back to the year previous, where I again chose a certain set of words to represent my progress with movement. It allows me to scan through the year I have had and reflect. I am not sure I give myself enough opportunities throughout the year for this task.

I am currently living and dancing in San Francisco. Not as much as I’d like, but I am learning every day how to better incorporate my understanding of movement into my surroundings. I have been freelancing throughout my time in projects focused on process, those focused on product, all the while figuring out what makes the most sense for me.

It has been a rocky road of balancing emotions with logic. Knowing I have the power and the privilege to continue dancing, I want to already see the world changing at my fingertips. I feel ready to make an impact, but logically I know that millennial-stained noun takes time and work to achieve. I have never shied away from hard work; I am just a little (painfully) young. So, I practice patience. It is a skill I have never been good at, and one I had never dedicated the time to succeed at.

Throughout this past year, I have begun work on building sustainable personal practices. I am finding ways to love movement in a way the fuels me.

2018: age 22

Shedding. I am beginning to shed the movement skins that have encased my body throughout school. Information not needed has left, and that which is important yet not currently relevant is slowly burying itself deeper into my body history. I just graduated Summa Cum Laude from Ohio State University with a BFA and distinction honors in dance. That’s a long title, and I believe its length accurately portrays one of the largest lessons I experienced this past year. I learned that the full expression of my many skillsets will bring me to new heights of personal achievement, but that working for work’s sake does not a fulfilled artist make.

Listing chronologically through the past nine months, I performed Ohad Naharin’s Minus 16 in collaboration with BalletMet Columbus. I finished my Labanotated score of Doug Varone’s acclaimed choreographic work Possession. I danced at the Gaga Winter Workshop in New York City. I headed Columbus’ regional section of National Choreography Month. I was awarded grant funding to create my senior thesis, Shared Ground, for which I choreographed two group works as well as a solo for myself. I additionally scored these works using Motif analysis and presented my distinction research at Ohio State’s Denman Forum. I took a graduate-level composition class where I created an auto-ethnographic solo (titled She hath no name. . .) driven by my relationship to self as a fantasy-driven, technologically-savvy body. I graduated top of my class, and I put my degree to immediate use performing works in Seattle and Philadelphia. I am currently at Springboard Dance Montreal working in new processes with Johannes Wieland and Michael Getman.

Tired from reading my list? I got exhausted writing it out, let alone working through it. I did arguably too many things. I am extremely proud of my accomplishments, but I wish I had more time to dive deeper into each of my projects. I feel as though I created many beginnings to pathways of exploration that will take me a lifetime more to fulfill.

So I go back to shedding and listening to my instincts as I do. I trust that what remains I need, what leaves I do not, and what gets shelved will not be left untouched forever. I wish I had more time to dedicate myself to personal reflection but, because I am currently at a movement workshop soaking in new information as I shed the old, I know the time to look back will come. For now, I trust my instincts to carry me forward. I am committed to a lifetime in dance, and while I am unsure where it will take me, I am thrilled to start the journey.

2017: age 21

I am, at this very moment in time, summer 2017, dancing in a study-abroad trip based in Denmark. Also, currently, I am looking toward my final year as a college dance student at Ohio State University pursuing a BFA in dance.

I have learned a couple lessons this year which I will carry with me for the remainder of my career. Even if not consciously, the lessons will live in my body — an entity which I truly believe is smarter than my own mind.

During the fall of 2016, I had the opportunity to dance with choreographer Bebe Miller for her last work at OSU before her retirement in December. Here I learned about the importance of the people inside a contemporary dance. “Contemporary dance,” I think, is still very loosely defined. From virtuosic leaps to grungy contractions, from narratives to dances that seem to mean nothing, everything along these lines of reference could be contemporary dance. What I found through working with Bebe Miller was a movement piece that centered around the individuals operating inside the work. The choreography was hers; in fact, we were drawing phrase-work primarily from her earlier works Going to the Wall (1998) and Nothing Can Happen Only Once (1993), but we as the dancers shaped the work as it evolved. From Bebe, I learned that every dancer carries their own nuanced understanding of how movement interacts in space. From that, a new dance will form even when filled with movement from another time.

The other lesson I learned is that furthering ideas comes down to the process of communication. This is a thought that I am still unpacking, but it stemmed from when I constructed a solo, Of Stillness (2017). In this work, I looked at the use of motif and Laban Movement Analysis as modes of composition to help a dance shape itself over time. The journey to the end product taught me communicative patience. As both choreographer and dancer, these two parts of me wanted information at different speeds, in different time frames, and at not-always-aligning abilities to provide either end of that information. I saw that even in one person, the communication of ideas from imagery to physicality required varying transactions, all of which landed with varying degrees of success. Imagine how truly difficult it is then to make dance with many people, to make any vision happen with a group? Moving forward, I’d like to maintain awareness of this.

2016: age 20

I am currently a student at Ohio State University pursuing a BFA in dance. In the fall, I will begin my third of four years.

I believe I will look back at this past year as a year marked with change and growth. There were many ‘up’ moments filled with excitement from new knowledge and self-discoveries, just as there were many ‘down’ moments filled with stress and self-doubt, but I am thankful for the journey that has led me to where I stand now. I more than ever trust my instincts, believe I have a good head on my shoulders, and see all the tools I need to make informed decisions.

Two important decisions I made this year were that I will have faith in following my instincts to do nothing more than what I think is right for me in the moment, and that I want to perform professionally. Upon entering Ohio State’s college dance program, I wanted to see what the field had to offer. I learned there are many different outlets in which to use dance knowledge, and after getting the taste of quite a few, I can say I find all aspects as equally important cogs in the working clock of the field, but my heart lies in performing. I love the choreographic process. I love the art of tapping into another’s mind to help coach movement art into fruition.

And although I have decided I want to perform, other aspects of dance remain just as important to me. This year I learned about movement analysis, a new passion of mine I did not previously know existed. I’m super into Rudolf Laban. He revolutionized modern dance to become an abstract expressionist art form. While I appreciate the rich history and art of Labanotation, my interests in movement analysis at the moment lie more with Motif and LMA principles, which I believe allow for a more complex, deeper understanding of movement to develop. Some things I am thinking about now are how efforts and intentions as explained by Laban enhance a performer’s understanding of work.

Over the course of my years as a dancer, I have had some great teachers, and this year was no exception. What I got in excess this year was a group of dance scholars — I say this to encompass both dance academic and movement professors — with advice that significantly changed my outlook on dance and the greater role it plays as a part of the human experience. One lesson that shaped me came from Dr. Hannah Kosstrin, my 20-21st century concert dance history teacher, who said, “Our bodies are a living history of everything we have danced before.” In other words, our bodies are moving archives of every past dance technique and teacher we have trained with, every choreographic process and performance, every injury or trauma, every movement interaction we have made with the world surrounding us. Bodies are smarter than the mind realizes, and it carries years (for me it is now 20 years) worth of movement information.

Understanding this allowed me to better celebrate the movement journey that has brought me to my current place. To hear that essentially every individual body is a different grouping of eclectic physical lessons was important for my greater appreciation of where I am at. I can be nothing more than what I am currently. In the past, I found myself somewhat ashamed of my not-so-traditional, very jumbled and eclectic route towards contemporary concert dance. I had believed that not being raised a “bunhead” left me lacking, and that I would need to play a constant game of catch-up to those with backgrounds in solely codified techniques. But I am not lacking. My experience in tap, Irish dance, cross-country running and jazz have left me with a different set of movement histories to inform me daily.

I also got to be a part of some historic moments this past year. OSU faculty member Bebe Miller will be retiring after fall semester 2016, and I was lucky to have been a student in her final contemporary technique course this past spring. I will always remember our final class together, where we played music to commemorate the recent loss of Prince, and danced. As we pounded on the floor, hooted and hollered, and clapped for our amazing teacher to signify the end of our final class, she said to us, “You’ve just got to do it, figure it out, and pass it on.” From Bebe, I learned loads. She, with lessons paralleling those from my ballet professor Karen Eliot, helped me to understand that ballet and contemporary dance have the same alignment challenges. Bebe got me to consider the ephemeral nature of dance and movement. And through her advice, I now turn to watching Trisha Brown’s Water Motor when I need a splash of dance inspiration.

Some of my greatest moments of growth, both the growth that is physically marked as well as the mental growth that occurs when you once again realize that you know basically nothing, came from studying under Eddie Taketa. As a new faculty member at OSU after his recent retirement from Doug Varone and Dancers, I had the pleasure of taking his contemporary technique and participating in a new work he created. One of my most memorable moments in Eddie’s technique class came when he demonstrated a complicated combination quickly, and the students including myself stood there with troubled looks, thinking too hard about what we just saw and how we would possibly learn it. Eddie paused and said to us relax, “Your body knows technique. You’ve been training in dance for years. You no longer have to think about the steps. You can just trust that your body knows them.” This absolutely connects to my Dr. Kosstrin lesson. The body is way smarter than we realize and I have an entire history of learning movement to inform my dancing. So with this advice from Eddie, I learned to relax and ride the wave of information that my body soaks up when the mind is at ease. Another Eddie lesson states that you essentially can plan nothing; you can only allow yourself to remain open for experience to happen to you. For my Type A, organized and controlling personality, this has been a hard pill to swallow, but I cannot deny the truth in that statement. Living in the past or the future is nothing compared to existing in the moment, and if I can’t plan future experience, then why not enjoy what’s going on in the present?

Eddie Taketa brought the Doug Varone and Dancers Summer Workshop to my attention, so a couple of my classmates and I went to Skidmore College this summer to work with the company. I just recently got home from the workshop, and I am still taking time to process all of the aspects of this amazing experience. What I can say is that I honed more movement skills, and my body got the chance to soak up and archive more teacher histories. But maybe most importantly, I was reminded of all the lessons I had learned over the past school year in patience, living in the current moment, trust, celebrating difference, and letting go. I was reminded that the smart mover is sought out and appreciated.

My summer is not yet over; my dance journey has just begun. Rounding out my summer of dance, on July 5th I began the Hubbard Street Summer Intensive in Chicago. I will follow up that with the week-long Gaga workshop in NYC, then return to school early to work with MFA candidate Josh Manculich on his upcoming thesis work. Moving forward into the coming school year, I remain aware that dance is the art of trying to be perfect in a world where there is no such thing. There will always be room for growth, and I can’t wait to experience that journey.

2015: age 19

I just finished my first year at the Ohio State University where I am studying to receive a BFA in Dance. I had a lovely first year. Ohio State has a program that is as physically demanding as it is academically challenging. It is a small program; my year has a class of 17, but the BFAs share space with the MFAs or PhDs in dance. I am very fortunate to gain knowledge from my fellow BFA students, but I am especially grateful for the grad students (MFA and PhD students) who share their experiences with me, as most of them have danced professionally and are now coming back to school. From them I have, time and time again, learned that dance is a versatile and expansive field that can extend into any aspect I choose. I feel stronger as an artist and more experienced as a person having gone through year one of college. But dance, what used to be my hobby, is now my job. That change is striking, as I am now finding that I have both more and less time to extend my passions into other areas of interest (cooking, for example). But I love my job, and I am fortunate to have decided at a young age that dance was something I found worth the commitment. In the coming school year, I will be performing a lot, creating some, and learning more about my field than I’m sure I know exists right now. I can’t wait.

2014: age 18

As of right now, I have just finished a Giordano jazz summer workshop, and in a couple of weeks I will be attending the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance. This fall I will be entering college at Ohio State University as a BFA dance major. My interest in dance as a performing art, as well as a lifestyle choice, continues to drive my work in the field, and I am excited to be moving on to a new chapter in my study of dance.

2013: age 17

I just got home from the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance and will venture to Cornish College of the Arts’ summer intensive this coming Saturday. Dance is a large part of my life right now as I experiment with what my interests are and how those interests may play out in the future. This coming school year, I will be a senior in high school, so I need to consider possible plans for after high school and how dance can fit into them. After training with SFCD, I feel as if I approach dance with a different perspective and have gained a more effective work ethic. I plan to bring this more refined attitude towards dance and dance training to my studies over the next year. I know I have a lot to learn as far as dance is concerned, but I am willing to get as much as I can out of each lesson because I’d like dance to be a part of my life for a long time. That is where I stand with dance right now.

The post Erin: Considering Sustainability appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2023: age 25

This year has brought me much needed clarity on where I want to go with dance.

For the past six months, I’ve been in Mexico City exploring, creating, moving, decompressing, and absorbing new life into my body. It was out of pure curiosity and necessity that I found myself drawn to this dynamic city, one that boasts such a beautiful range of creative expression and cultural depth. Without expectation, my short-term “sabbatical” quickly became a rejuvenating and transformational time for my artistic growth; I got to experience and witness an incredibly diverse dance scene, experiment with new movement practices, and reconnect with my own desires of how I want to deepen my relationship to dance.

What became clear – and what has long been apparent to me – is that I greatly appreciate and relish the pure physical exploration of the body through movement. My creative approach and interests have always been rooted in the kinesthetic potential of this vessel we call “body,” the range of movement, qualities, and expressions available to us through physical manifestation of the internal and external worlds. My time in CMDX was dedicated to furthering this, leading to the beginnings of a new improvisational practice centered on exploring environment (and its geographical/global context, history, culture, essence) through movement:

“Dance has always been a refuge for my personal, emotional, and physical research of what is ~ what was ~ what is becoming ~ I’d like to expand this practice and use my craft as a way to explore the world around me, to process and make sense of my surroundings with openness and curiosity. The concept is simple: take notice, influence, or inspiration from specific aspects of the geographical location I am in to inform a series of improvisational scores. Use these to shape your experience of movement, to absorb the geographical imprint into your body, and discover new boundaries within your physicality. This is my way of understanding the world around me – not just the physical location itself, but the historical significance and realities it holds; its politics; people; social fabric; nature; culture; and all other aspects that go into shaping an environment. It is a practice of observing, noticing, and deep listening, while dissolving any judgment or preconceptions of what is or what comes out of it. It is full of delightful surprises, greater awareness, and for me, pure fun and joy (which is why we dance in the first place, right?).” – excerpts from Ep. 1 of mvmt research project

While this will certainly continue to develop as I venture to new places, it is just the beginning of a larger voyage I plan to make into the world of the body and movement. Years of experimenting with different movement practices and modalities have pushed me to continually reach for new discovery within my own body – what’s possible, what’s underneath, what’s beyond. There are striking moments where the limitations of my own body (from years of technique training or other mental constraints) finally let go long enough for me to taste something new in my kinesphere, so long as I continue to stay in that realm of curiosity and deep listening. It’s equally fascinating and freeing, and I’ve been thinking about how to cultivate this approach for other movers to try on. I want to share in the experience of what it’s like to discover a wider range of movement through active, expansive exploration beyond one’s own engrained movement patterns. What this would require, and what has been part of my approach for years now, is retraining the body to move as a whole functional being rather than a technical dancer. Without a doubt, technique serves as a great foundation for dance-based movements, but to push past that and experience a movement vocabulary beyond the constructed ones we’re taught (one that comes from your own dynamism and unique physicality) requires a deeper, more diversified approach to the body’s functionality and form outside of dance.

All this, and my never-ending interest in the multiplicity of movement, has led me back to school to pursue an MS in Applied Physiology and Kinesiology. In a few weeks, I’ll be cracking open textbooks (yay) to dive deep into the form, function, and physiology of the body as it relates to dance and movement. I’ll be weaving together the scientific and the artistic, creating a hybrid approach that will help movers of all backgrounds experience themselves more fully in motion. I want to develop resources, spaces, and communal offerings that center on the physical exploration of the body through conceptual and expansive frameworks that enhance movement capacity, quality, and range. It will also be an entry point into the field of research supporting scientific dance literature, which I hope to learn from in key areas of dance training design, biodynamics, functional movements and strength training for injury prevention, and corrective exercise approaches that lead to more sustainable movement experiences for all bodies.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, this clarity and vision of where I see my dance career going. It’s exciting, and extremely aligned with how I want to experience the world through movement: with curiosity, openness, and ever-growing appreciation for the corporal instrument that has always been, and is, the basis of my creative and human existence.

2022: age 24

It’s been 10 years since I first came to the Bay Area. After spending many spotted seasons in between here, Seattle, and wherever else in the world I was, I finally made the choice to return and plant myself in this quintessential creative metropolis. I was very particular about this decision; I felt that out of any city in the world, this was the one I could see myself rooting into, one that would allow me to grow artistically and professionally while fulfilling the many other realms that encompass my life. I didn’t expect much to happen in this first year back. I was expecting myself to immerse slowly, quietly. But after almost two years of isolation (and living room dancing, which is great, but damn. s p a c e), my desire to be deeply involved in the diverse creative communities that this city boasts became so engulfing that it took on a whole path of its own.

Last spring, I was honored to work with dance filmmaker Conni McKenzie and sound designer Jaime Serra dos Santos on our first ever commissioned dance film, Lungs of the Earth, which premiered in April for USF’s Performing Arts & Social Justice 20th anniversary festival. In the midst of lockdown, we hustled over six weeks of intense Zoom rehearsals, late-night brainstorming calls, and an intense four-hour film take to create what is now a hybrid exploration of the social-political inferno and environmental crisis consuming the Amazon region of Brazil and its Indigenous communities. This all-consuming process was invigorating and exhausting, giving me a first glimpse into what a professional life as an artist might look like. I liked it.

The following months we were invited to participate in a few panel discussions as part of USF’s Thacher Art Gallery Fall 2021 Exhibition All that you touch. As a first time presenting artist alongside these incredible mid-career (and environmentally-focused) artists, the conversations of our creative output really cemented the role and responsibility I wanted to take in making socially-engaged work that extends beyond the screen or stage. There must be more to this than just the performance. I felt strongly that there was so much more to dig into within this work, not just the piece itself, but the granular details surrounding it that came from hours of researching and conceptualizing brutal facts and realities that inspired the piece. People must not walk-away only having seen something; they must also be filled with reactions, curiosities, disturbances, and ideally, a desire to do something about it. My dance practice is not just one of artistic expression or physical movement; it is a social responsibility to create, a political act that requires more of me than just my body. It requires every part of my brain and heart to be in congruent action; all my creative and critical thinking in concert; my acceptance and refusal of what is; my pure existence and whole participation in the human experience. I just could not look at dance so simply anymore, I needed more from it.

This is when things started to shift.

Most of last year was a balancing act between this half-artist, half-9-to-5 lifestyle I was maintaining. Echoes of scarcity mentality and professional projections (from myself and others) made me hesitant to ever consider a fully independent freelance lifestyle. It’s too risky, the economy, the pandemic, etc. It took quitting three jobs and moving three times (third times the charm, right?) for me to realize that by effect, regardless of if I was ready or not, I was becoming that independent freelance artist. At the start of the new year, I was contracted to perform with Kinetech Arts and Lenora Lee Dance, co-facilitating workshops with my dear friend and mentor Jennifer Bury (a DSP Certified Movement Therapist), managing the Community Engagement Residency with Bridge Live Arts, and taking on client work as independent contractor for small arts organizations. There was no choice but to “take the leap” and fully commit to the projects and people that were making this lifestyle possible for me. And once I did, which was incredibly freeing and terrifying, I was reminded of what I felt so strongly earlier: I needed more from it. I needed dance to engulf me completely. I needed to give it all my existence and participation, in every way I am capable of, onstage and off. It is with pure gratitude that I have found myself in this position, where dance is now something I can professionally pursue and sustain myself with while getting to engage in excitingly different, coexisting parts of the field.

Right now, to maintain this active part of my life, it feels pertinent to employ the practice of artistic discipline, commitment, and patience throughout the processes and work I’m a part of. There have been many beautiful developments and surprising moments this year, and yet that deeper craving for something beyond the limitations of dance as performance, as product, remains. I aim to continue pushing my capacity for deeper meaning and impact beyond the confines of a studio, theater, or any designated space for that matter. I want to research, observe, and conceptualize the movements in the fabric of our society; our problems; our dreams; our complicated and undeniably interwoven lives until there is something physically shifting in and around me. It feels inevitable that my work will constantly challenge the parameters and functions of this field, because I’m not satisfied with the status quo. There is more to this than what we see. And wherever that leads me next, that’s the path I’m going on.

Artists For Justice: www.artists-for-justice.com

2021: age 23

Over the past year, dance has become even more of a deeply intimate and sacred practice of mine; more than I’ve ever imagined it could be. As the world fell apart – both the one around me and the one I had carefully self-constructed – it was the only thing I could return to day after day to deal with the incessant pain, sadness, suffering, grief, disappointment, fury, devastation, fear, and unwelcomed trauma that barged into my life without hesitation or mercy. Like many others, the confinement to a singular space and prolonged social isolation revealed the truth about my mental and emotional stability, making dance not just a preferred method of coping, but essential to my sanity if I were to make it through. Dance became my primary source of healing amidst the pain I witnessed, caused, and experienced in the year 2020.

What once were empty holes of my studio apartment quickly became discovery spots to find new ways of moving, grooving, feeling, existing, and being amongst the uncomfortable; the harrowing; the heartbreaking. Hot tears that collapsed on the floor were met with steady feet, grounding firmly through each metatarsal and muscle. Deep sighs shakily released from my lungs were caught by soft subtle hand gestures, grasping the thin air around me. Pounding headaches and clenched jaws turned into swinging arms and spinal releases. Tense shoulders became ten different ways to twist and turn around my furniture (without knocking things over). Heavy eyelids became hips hips hips gyrating, shaking, sashaying, swaying. It was the saddest, most liberating dance party of one, for one, and no one else.

This daily practice of returning to dance with my head and heart weak taught me how to find healing in myself, in my movement, despite the most calamitous circumstances. My 10 x 10 ft. space may have been small, but dance teleported me to an expansive state where I could feel everything to its fullest extent. It gave me new kinesthetic vocabulary to express myself without filtering, downplaying, or masking the severity and depth of my experiences. It gave me moments of much needed relief and joy when there was so little. Approaching dance through this therapeutic lens transformed the way I understood the practice, not just as a performative act or artistic technique, but as a powerful healing method with untapped potential. I’ve come to see dance as a portal to the most vulnerable and real parts of myself. Its transcending power can reveal such deeply hidden, hurting, and raw wounds that often manifest themselves out in the real world, adding to the chaos that already exists. But by letting dance take us to those places, those dark tender places, and exploring the potentiality of movement as a healing practice, we might be able to find healing in ourselves in ways we could have never imagined.

This is what gave me the strength and courage to make certain strides in my career, my practice, and my personal life after a year like 2020. Since then, I moved back to the Bay Area; choreographed my first commissioned piece; joined a local studio as a new instructor and admin; revamped the Artists For Justice collective and launched our first merch line; reconnected with friends and mentors who have deeply impacted my dance journey; and reentered the dance community with excitement of finally, finally taking class again. There is so much yet to discover about my relationship to dance and how it continues to shape my life, but I will always remember this past year as one of the most formative to my understanding of dance as an intrinsic form of human expression, and therefore also, healing.

2020: age 22

Around this time last year, the triumphant feeling of graduating with a BA in Performing Arts & Social Justice (PASJ) had just started wearing off as I lay down on an airport bench in Lima, Peru. Flashing memories of the last bow onstage; an encouraging comment made in passing; my professor’s sweet smile as I grabbed that costly piece of paper – it was a peak among many valleys that was etched in my memory as one of the biggest accomplishments of my life, but left me with bittersweet affection. As much as I was heartbroken to leave the established (and incredibly supportive) network of creative peers, professors, and mentors who transformed my understanding of dance in academia and the socio-political realm, I felt so plugged in to the safety net of a private, aristocratic university that I lost touch with the real world I had seen before. So, I moved to Argentina, where it all began.

A city brimming with creative energy, Buenos Aires was a place of artistic awakening for me. It’s unique heartbeat of social activism mixed with the diverse talents of artistas urbanos make for daily extemporaneous live performance and public artwork that cleverly layers in social political commentary and redefines Argentinian culture, history, and identity in the 21^st century. The migrant musician bouncing from one subway train to another is not just playing any set of songs; two young males swiveling in the plaza are not just dancing another tango; the graffiti artist enlivening the brick and concrete of a villa is not just creating any mural – they are exemplifying the inseparable connectivity of art and advocacy, poetry and politics, movement and mobilization, a quartet and a quarantine. As I watched their creative play pop up throughout the city, I began to admire, and somewhat envy, the way they fearlessly claimed and displayed their artistry (without needing a degree from a second-tier university to do so). I observed the way they used their art for social change and advocacy more often than for staged performance or acclaim. I watched them return to the same spots every day with the same relentless creative energy, regardless of if people stopped for them. I started to question: what does it mean to be an artist in a world that demarcates “street-art” from real art, valued art, celebrated art, stage worthy art? Who decides what art gets noticed, praised, covered by the media, and funded? How has the artistic world developed its own hierarchical and bureaucratic processes of what it means to be an established and esteemed artist?

That costly piece of paper was staring back at me now, asking me the very question I had been chasing though years of dedicated dance training, taking on performance opportunities, fervently signing up for intensives and workshops, and even pursuing a degree in Dance – what does it mean to be a dancer?

Does it mean taking four to five technique classes a week? Does it mean becoming fluent in Labanotation or getting certified in a variety of movement practices? Is it dutifully preparing for and participating in the competitive audition season for a spot in a company? What about being fully immersed in the dance community with your hands in multiple projects at a time? It is performing for the sake of being seen? Is it a degree that claims you completed a set of curricula laid out by other experienced dance educators, choreographers, and academics? Is it participating in this achievement-centered social construct built on having years of high-quality training, impressive physicality, renowned company status, diligent performance record, or expertise in the academic dance field? Are these the things that define a dancer?

From what I’ve seen in my 17 years of navigating the dance world, the road to “success” seems to be paved by the pursuit of these questions. But here, the road is no longer made of clean-cut marley or sprung floors; it is made out of dirt and stone, scattered with greenery and waste, a crooked pathway leading to an open clearing tucked away in the folds of the earth with nothing but some trees and a few sleeping dogs nearby. And yet, people still gather to sing, dance, and play.

My time in Argentina reminded me what it means to be a dancer in the simplest form. It is a way of relating to; we see the world through movement and understand our relationship to the external through our inner and outer sense of physicality. It is a way of being with; being flexible with our minds, bodies, and hearts as we navigate the world and its shifting realities. It is a way of sensing; we feel the world and we feel how it moves us. It is a way of communicating; we speak this kinesthetic language, often because official languages lack the verbiage we seek to express the most undefinable human experiences.

I brought this reminder with me when I moved back to Seattle in January. As soon as the pandemic hit, I saw it as a universal sign to return to that simple form of dance; one that requires no internet, no Instagram live classes, no virtual dance jams – just me, my body and space. Despite the challenges the pandemic presents, I’ve been cherishing these last few months of physical introversion, of returning to myself. It feels like a homecoming – to my body, to my relationship with movement. It feels like dancing in an open clearing with nothing but the trees and sleeping dogs nearby, except it’s my living room and my dog is watching me curiously from the couch. The pandemic has brought us all home, literally and figuratively, which we all might need as a reminder that our artistic craft is not dependent on our achievements or external pursuits within the dance world. It is within ourselves and is waiting for us to come home.

2019: age 21

This past May, I graduated from the University of San Francisco with a BA in Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance. Don’t worry – I’m still trying to figure out what that means too. Besides coming to appreciate the academic rigor of dance, this program provided me with the most demanding and intimate experience of physical training, choreographic processes, and artistic-development within myself. Between dance classes and late-night rehearsals, I had several “aha” moments that reaffirmed that this was exactly what I want to be doing. Long gone are the days of wondering whether I am meant for this kind of work; now it’s a matter of figuring out how to pursue dance as a career and a life-long practice while continuing to explore the complexity and intricacy of what it means to be a dancer.

This was also the first year that I created original work and presented it to the public. Stepping into the choreographer’s shoes was an incredibly humbling experience in which I realized how enigmatic yet self-revealing the choreographic process truly is. Albeit the hours of corporal investigation, choreographic experimentation, and surely some mental tribulation, by the time we performed onstage, the piece evolved into something beyond ourselves, something we couldn’t have expected; it became its own entity, we were just there to embody it. As someone who had never created a 10-minute piece involving other dancers or even basic lighting cues, I quickly learned that the power to create was a responsibility that needed to be met with equal parts curiosity, receptivity and consistency. Like a child, creativity needs room to grow, play, rest, make messes, throw tantrums, experiment, and discover meaning for itself. Once I accepted this and realized I couldn’t squeeze the life out of creativity to give me exactly what I wanted, I finally felt an indescribable guidance that led me from one choreographic solution to the next. The more I trusted in it, the more it revealed its true nature and meaning to me, rather than me imposing onto it what it should mean and should be. By the end of our process, the initial ideas that first gave traction were no longer paramount. What was more important was putting real stuff onstage, regardless of if it was choreographically compelling, conceptually brilliant, or visually pleasing. This is how I want to define my work: not by its complexity, but by its authenticity.

Now, I am living in Buenos Aires. I decided to move here after graduation for personal reasons, mostly to be with myself in a new context so that I could discover more of who I am, what I am curious about, and how I want to exist in the world. As far as dance goes, I trust that it will continue guiding me as it always has, leading me from one phase of life to the next. Part of me is wondering what other realms of dance I have not yet entered, what rhythms and motions I have yet to discover, which communities and individuals I might meet. That being said, I have no expectations of what my experience in Argentina will look like and I prefer it surprises me. Like the creative process, life is enigmatic and self-revealing in its own ways. I just have to trust it – messes, tantrums, discoveries and all.

2018: age 20

I am entering my final year at the University of San Francisco, where I study Performing Arts & Social Justice. I remember how terrifying it was to transition to this major given that I had a lot of insecurity and doubts about pursuing a career in the arts. However, the inspiration and fulfillment I receive from my supportive group of peers and faculty have secured my decision that this is where I belong. This past semester has re-opened doors for me in terms of artistic collaborations, performance opportunities, and work experiences guiding me towards a future I’ve always wanted but didn’t believe was possible; I am overwhelmed by the vast range of possibilities for a career in the arts. Needless to say, I am eager to move forward with this path and infuse my greatest passions into the work I do here at USF and elsewhere.

What I’ve learned throughout the year is that dance serves a much greater purpose than just a technical art-form staged for performance. It serves as a model for education, a form of socio-political commentary, a therapy for healing the emotional body, a bonding experience between strangers, and a way of establishing oneself in relationship to others. Surely, there are plenty more purposes for dance, but these have been an integral part of my experience over the past year and have shown me that dance can be as powerful off-stage as it is onstage. A lot of my time in school is spent discussing and investigating this off-stage aspect of dance: How can we use creative movements to conceptualize academic curriculum? How do politics and societal issues manifest in our movements? How and where does the body hold onto emotions? What do our gestural and habitual patterns of movement tell a story about what’s going on around us? For me, these questions bring up the more interesting aspects of dance: relational, societal, and emotional ways of relaying and interpreting movement. I am interested in how these aspects are interconnected and how they can help us understand the world through dance and movement.

Aside from that, I am currently working with Jennifer Bury, a movement therapist in San Francisco, from whom I hope to learn about the functions and practices of somatic-psychotherapy through Gestalt therapy, Bartenieff Fundamentals, and Body-Mind Centering. She and I are currently working towards creating a workshop together that will take place here in San Francisco during the fall. In the meantime, I am just trying to understand the essence of movement therapy and build up a knowledge base for later when I graduate and pursue this as a career. With that, I would like to return to something I wrote in last year’s update which was, “It seems that I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply.” I can say now that I have made a solid dent in my pursuit of dance and I am confident that it will continue to shape itself during the next year leading up to graduation.

2017: age 19

I walked into the dance studio of my college on the first day of classes, nervous about what would happen next. I had not danced in six months — would I twist my ankle during the first combination? Would I even be able to balance on one leg anymore? Self-doubt rushed into my mind as I tediously did some stretches before class. I didn’t know what to expect of my body or how it would react to the experience of dancing again. A few minutes later, I was warmly welcomed by my modern dance teacher, Katie Faulkner. She shook my hand in such a way that I instinctively knew she would be very important in my growth as a dancer and a person. Her encouragement was the one thing that kept me coming back to class week after week — she was the first person to believe in me in a long time.

I don’t think I ever felt as liberated as I did after those classes. I always walked out with euphoria and lots of questions on my mind. What does this mean? Should I start dancing seriously again? Do I just keep it as a side hobby? Should I venture out to other studios? Maybe I can do a minor if I work things out with my major (International Studies)? It seemed like a small thing, walking out of dance class high off movement, but it sparked a feeling deep inside me — one that I missed dearly and wanted back more than anything.

However, I silenced that feeling for the first half of the year, only focusing on my major, which I thought would be secure, commendable and expected of me. I could not grasp the idea of going to a private university (and spending thousands of dollars I don’t have) to study anything else but International Studies. I was there on scholarship and felt that I needed to earn a degree that guaranteed money, respect and a job. So, of course, dance took the back seat until I reached a point that broke me into pieces and forced me to reconsider everything.

My second semester was awful. I spent months in emotional and mental darkness, becoming less and less recognizable to myself, losing interest in everything that once mattered to me. I was convinced I had depression and anxiety and nothing could cure it. I hated my classes; I felt so pressured to continue faking my interest in them. I skipped dance classes. I couldn’t sleep at night. I avoided people. The only person I reached out to was the one who believed in me. I sat down with Katie and told her everything. I told her how I was feeling, why I was not coming to class anymore. I told her about my major and how unsatisfied it left me. I told her about my dreams, fears and doubts about dance. What she said to me next was the most comforting and enlightening thing I had ever heard, and drove me to this conclusion:

Pursuing an education in dance offers experiences, lessons and challenges that no other major can offer. In fact, the skills and tools you get from studying dance give you the freedom to take on various jobs, depending on your interests. It cultivates creativity, feeds curiosity, and creates a mind-body connection that makes you a wholesome, life-long learner. Yes, there is risk and maybe not much money, but exploring everything about one’s passion is an invaluable thing — it makes every day, every assignment, and every class worth it. There is something so special about the arts that other academic careers cannot provide (for me at least): that feeling of liberation, euphoria and endless curiosity.

As my first year of college came to an end, I finally knew what I had to do. I switched my major to the Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance, dropped International Studies like a hot potato, and created a plan for the next two years that is fully committed to dance. I felt like a new person. The heavy pressures and expectations lifted off my shoulders with ease. I stopped feeling depressed. I could finally sleep at night. I smiled and laughed and came to peace with certain self-truths that I was denying for so long. I could finally breathe.

I look forward to seeing where this new path takes me, and I hope to discover more and more about life and myself through dance. It seems like I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply. For now, I will be heading down to Argentina in the fall where I will learn how to tango and spend time exploring the world with my new outlook on life and learning.

2016: age 18

It is hard for me to put into words where dancing fits into my life now, but it is simpler to say that I have taken a break from dance. This choice was again for the sake of my health, but this time, for my mental health.

I traveled to Germany last summer for the Dresden Ballet Intensive at the Palucca University. I was so ecstatic about traveling and dancing, since it has been my dream since childhood to do both at the same time and experience such an exhilarating dynamic. And the excitement showed, in my face, in my movements, in my breath; I was sincerely happy! I took classes from some of the most talented European dancers around, and even got the chance to take a Forsythe-inspired class from one of his dancers, Ana Presta. It was another world there. The nagging schoolwork thoughts dissolved into my sweat, the anxiety I had been hoarding left through my breath, and the pressures of my own expectations danced right out of my head.

Fast forward to January 2016, I spent every day in an emotional wreck. Nonstop tears and heaving sighs were poisoning my mind to believe that I have no means to dance and I should just give it up. Who was I trying to take on the world of dance, a place filled with endless talent that I cannot compare to? Am I just dancing because that is what I’ve been doing for the past 13 years and have nothing else to pursue? Do I really love dance, or just like it? Like any bad relationship, I decided we needed to take a break.

Of course, giving up dance is a temporary solution. I need time to think. I need to figure out what I was meant to do on Earth and if dancing fits into that vision. I had always believed it did, because of habit. But dancing should not be merely a habit; it deserves passion, curiosity, focus, creativity, emotion, and so much more. I felt so undeserving to dance, so inadequate of what it demands, that I simply could not bear to do it any longer until I pulled my life together. I am not able to offer dance these things right now, and I will wait until I can. Then, I will return to the beautiful art form that it is, and give it everything I’ve got.

I will be moving to San Francisco in the fall, where I will hopefully start dancing again. Until then, I will be taking care of my mind and body, and resolving this messy breakup with dance.

2015: age 17

My story did not end where I thought it would. I thought I would return to dancing with optimal health and a renewed spirit in the fall, but, it took me much longer to get to that place. Throughout the school year, I did not belong to any studio in particular but rather studio hopped to take the best classes I could find. Really, I just took open classes all year long. There are benefits to this: meeting new dancers regularly, choosing when to take class, and taking from new teachers. For a while this routine satisfied my dancing needs and I found it exhilarating to meet so many new people in the dance world. However, it was only a matter of time before I grew stagnant in progression and felt stuck in a rut. I was not improving the way I wanted to and I felt constantly overstressed during class from working so hard. Teachers noted that my upper body was very stiff and I needed to relax more. But, I just pushed on, working my muscles to extremes that were unhealthy and, ultimately, unproductive.

The other downfall to being a wandering dancer was that all the pressure to challenge myself was in my hands. Open class doesn’t offer the personal attention I needed to improve. So, sometimes I managed to motivate myself in class, while other times I felt terrible about my technique and couldn’t look in the mirror any longer. I was mentally and physically beating myself up with the stubborn hope that that would be the solution. If only I knew what I was getting into.

My physical health started draining. Surprisingly, I had not yet fainted or injured myself, but it took getting to such a crucial state for me to realize I will not be dancing much longer with the way I treat myself. I had become so self-critical nothing seemed to be good enough anymore (even if it was!). I was my biggest critic, worst enemy and toughest teacher.

But everything turned around very quickly. I did whatever it took to regain my health so I could dance again, and that happened easily with lots of cake and sweets. Lots of it. As good as it was for me to gain weight again, I hated the person I was becoming. Looking in the mirror brought me to tears because I felt like I was losing everything I had worked so hard for. I thought I was losing my integrity, my strength and my beauty. More so, I was scared beyond belief what it would be like to dance in this new, unfamiliar body. So I tried it out.

At first it was very uncomfortable. I couldn’t move as freely as before, I felt heavier, and I furrowed my brow at everything I did. I was still the same harsh critic, just in a bigger body.

I decided to try something new for once: I looked in the mirror and admired what I could. I touched the muscle in my legs, felt my arms, twisted and turned to see all angles of my being. I complimented myself and smiled at what I saw. Yes, I felt pretty foolish, but these moments of self-love are what changed me. Dancing started becoming more enjoyable because I only focused on loving it. I became more comfortable with how I move and realized how powerful and strong my body really was. Most of all, I was finally thankful for my bods abilities in dance because those are specific and special to me, no one else. I am beautiful when I dance, and I know it.

No, I cannot do 32 fouette turns or hold my leg up by my head, but I can move in ways that others can’t! I realized it’s not about being able to do it all or doing it perfectly; is about doing what you can do BEST. Dancing is a personal art; you do it however it fits you naturally.

Now, I dance with ease. I practice loving myself daily and admiring all the great things I can do. And in my eyes, this is the greatest improvement I have made all year long.

2014: age 16

I had a surge of motivation in the winter time and was craving more out of dance. I started working harder during class, doing strengthening every day, routinely jogging for cardio endurance and becoming very fit in the process. This lasted until the end of June, and my body was becoming a strong lean machine, or so I thought. I actually started to over-train too much and did not allow my body to rest, resulting in a major fallback for my dancing. It got so bad to the point that I was restricted by my doctor to stop dancing for a while until my body regained its normal state of being. To me, not dancing for several months sounded like torture. But I realized that if I wanted to keep dancing, I must take a break and rejuvenate. So I did. I spent my days stretching and holding myself back from going to the studio. It was a lot harder than I expected!

Eventually my body started to heal naturally, the rips and tears in my muscles were mended, my energy level rose, and my body was able to move again. Once I was allowed to take a dance class, I went in fearing that I had lost all that I had worked for. But to my surprise, I did not lose anything. I gained instead. I realized that I had been abusing the art of dance by treating it as only a physical sport. I had lost my connection to artistry and passion by becoming blinded by my fitness goals in dance. Taking that first class brought me tears of joy because I finally had understood the blessing I have been given: the ability to dance. Not many people have this blessing, and it makes me appreciate the art all the more. Now, every time I step into the studio, a sense of gratitude flows through me and I enjoy myself when dancing. This has brought me to a stronger sense of my artistry and passion for dance.

2013: age 15

This past summer at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance has really made me interested in the diversity of dance and I’m eager to learn more and more. I’m currently very invested in dance and my growth in it, and hopefully will continue that through a professional career. I would say I am totally in love with dance, and it continues to be something I want to do!

The only thing that scares me is college and dance and how that all works out.

~~

The post Felicitas: The Multiplicity of Movement appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2023: age 27

This year’s update is there is no real update. My love, appreciation, and physical embodiment of dance lives within me and is not going anywhere. I am still teaching Jazzercise, dancing my ass off at bars, weddings, clubs, etc. and enjoying watching others create movement through live performance.

Let’s all keep moving and have a little more dance and joy in our lives!

2022: age 26

As expected, my relationship with dance has continued to manifest into a completely new iteration this past year. I still identify myself as a dancer. I still say, “I used to dance professionally and freelance” because it’s still a part of me and always will be. However, I’ve accepted and appreciate the fact that it may be a chapter in my life that has come to a close, and that is okay.

Even though I have not set foot in a dance class in over a year, I still say, “I dance recreationally,” which is true. I teach Jazzercise multiple times a week, I dance with friends at the club, bust a move at weddings, and record random dances for TikTok because this is the way I express myself – through dance, through movement. Whether or not I am pursuing dance as a career does not legitimize the fact that I continue to dance through life with movement being the true essence of my soul.

My fondest “dance” memory from the past year was at a DCOM (Disney Channel Original Movie) party my friends and I hosted. We had an awesome playlist filled with mid-2000s classics from our childhood era. Two of my friends and I decided to set-up the camera to make a “TikTok” and proceeded to dance and record ourselves for almost 20 minutes. As three former dancers, we busted out pirouettes, splits, high kicks, and anything else flashy for the camera. We were sweaty, exhausted, but filled with joy and smiles by the end. This was a flashbulb moment that truly encapsulates my love for dance.

I would be remiss not to mention my other “movement practices” from the past year. I took up running and completed two marathons in November and January. The act of running is meditative. A repetitive motion not often used continuously in dance, nor used as a form of cross-training. I still remember many of my old school dance teachers telling me not to run because it would “shorten my muscles.” I equate many of these long runs to durational improvisation practices. The hard part is not doing the physical act but committing myself mentally to set out and complete a task that lasts longer than one hour. It is difficult staying inside of it – committing to staying active in the practice or committing to keep moving even when I’m exhausted. All these different physical challenges intrigue me, pulling at my need to be goal-driven and just do the damn thing. Our bodies are stronger than we know and sometimes it’s fun to test them.

Here’s to another year of dance, another year of reflection, and another year of gratitude towards my body that supports me and my need for movement every single day.

2021: age 25

I knew this blog entry was coming, and I’ve been dreading it ever since I accepted my full-time Biddable Associate position at Croud, a digital marketing agency, back in March 2021. I knew this was going to be the hard one. The one where that little sliver of childhood dream drifts away, but I could not be happier. I truly feel 100 percent that this move is correct for me in this moment.

I always knew I was more than dance. I always knew I had more to offer to the world besides being a dancer, choreographer, and artist. However, I never realized how much dance was intertwined with my identity to others and how difficult it would be to try and divorce myself from this view. When I see friends and family I haven’t seen in a while, I excitedly exclaim to them that I have a new job in digital media with this super cool UK-based company. I can immediately see the looks on their faces “…but what about dance?” I just smile and say, “I am taking a break for a bit. It will always be a love and passion of mine, but we are just seeing where this other path takes us.” I try not to read into their disappointed looks and assume they are thinking “she’s giving up on dance” because I’m not. I am pivoting, just like so many others did during the pandemic and just like I knew may always be a possibility for my future.

But dance isn’t going anywhere. Dance IS intertwined in my identity, and I could not divorce myself from it if I tried. Movement is so ingrained within my being that I can barely go a few days without exercising or moving my body someway through space. Dance is presenting itself in new ways: becoming the dance floor queen at all these post-COVID weddings, continuing to teach Jazzercise, and making fun, silly TikTok videos of dance moves I get to share with people all over the world. Not to mention new movement explorations… I will be running the TCS NYC Marathon on Nov. 7, 2021! These are all things that keep me excited and motivated to keep moving.

Nothing is permanent, and I know dance will always be there for me if and when I choose to return in a more full-time, devoted capacity. For now, I keep moving, smiling, and being grateful for all the amazing skills, memories, and opportunities dance has taught me throughout my years.

2020: age 24

I was all set to perform with Harper Continuum Dance Theatre in Georgia on March 20 when the entire country shut down. We had been working on this show for many months, and the company was so looking forward to performing and interacting with students at local schools. Fingers crossed we will be able to reschedule and put on the show sometime in the near future.

Over the past year, I have made a definite shift in the type of dance work I am pursuing. I started auditioning for more commercial and theater type work. I want something with a contract, something that would actually pay my rent and be my only job. I had been doing a fair amount of freelance and project-based work over the past two years but wanted to make a change.

I began taking singing lessons in the fall and actively reached out to other dancers who have had successful performing careers in the entertainment industry with jobs such as cruise ship and theme park work. If you would have asked me four years ago in college if I would be pursuing this type of work, I probably would have scoffed at the question, but right now it not only feels relevant but a sustainable form of dance for me to pursue into adulthood. I also began taking more jazz and theater classes and re- fell in love with a type of dance I used to train in exclusively when I was younger. Jazz is what I started with many years ago and had been a love of mine up until I went to college and left it for more intense ballet and modern training. Over this past year, I have rediscovered a child-like love for dance that makes me joyful and excited to move.

I have also found “performance opportunities” in the many open call auditions I began attending. Get up at 6 a.m., do your hair, put on a full face of makeup just to put your name on a list and hope you get seen before lunch. Go grab a coffee and then sit in a room with a hundred (or more) other hopeful dancers waiting for your moment to show the casting team some semblance of your talents. This process would happen day-after-day and especially so in high audition season January through March. I still had many more auditions on my calendar before the COVID-19 outbreak.

I remember making a commitment to myself at the beginning of the year that this would be the year I become a “professional dancer,” sign my first contract, and truly prove to myself that this is something I can do. Now with the current situation, I do not know if I can keep that promise.

On March 17, I left New York City and came to Houston, TX to reside with my family until things settled down in NYC. I have been here ever since but have plans to return mid-August. The first two months were difficult. I had no motivation to take class even with the hundreds of FREE online dance classes being offered. It just didn’t feel relevant. How am I going to take this silly dance class when people all over the world are dying from this horrible virus? But I kept at it; taking classes here and there when I wanted to and trying to stay connected with my online dance community.

I am still skeptical on what my dance future will hold. With the recent closure of Broadway until 2021, it is hard to believe much (if any) performing arts will be back in the fall. I have contemplated taking some time off from dance and pursuing other ventures like more marketing work until things return to “normal.” However, the thought of moving into a traditional, more stable full-time job scares me. In my mind it equates to the end of my dance career. I know this isn’t true, or maybe it is. However, it’s starting to feel more and more like the correct move to make for the current situation.

I guess you’ll just have to tune in again next year to see how this all pans out…

Photo by Heather Harper

2019: age 23

I am coming up on my one-year mark of living in New York City. I moved here in August 2018 and am just now starting to feel settled. I am so thankful for the support of my family who helped me make the move and all my friends who have made NYC feel like home. I’ve truly felt supported every step of the way!

Here are a couple things I’ve learned…

1. The NYC hustle is real
2. Life as a dancer is hard
3. The term “making it” doesn’t really mean anything
4. It is possible to have five part-time jobs
5. College did not prepare me for the rigor of auditions
6. But it doesn’t matter because auditions are just a formality
7. The mental game is half the battle
8. I truly love to teach (my younger self is eating crow)
9. You’ll always run into someone from some past dance intensive (I recently reconnected with Ayala at a Cunningham workshop – we attended the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance together in 2013)
10. I’ve rediscovered my passion for dance!
11. Being able to pay rent is the ultimate accomplishment
12. How to pack for a dance class, work, teaching Jazzercise, and a dinner date all in one backpack and still carry it around all day long
13. Surround yourself with the BEST people – friends will fuel you
14. **Everyone is on their own timeline**
15. How to live with less
16. I forgot how much I loved jazz (guess who bought a pair of LaDucas)
17. Seeing dance is my new classroom
18. Taking class is part of my job
19. BE PATIENT!
20. How good it feels to truly be happy!

Here’s some of the dance things I’ve done:

• Attended 25+ auditions
• Performed a solo adaptation of my piece MINDSCAPEat SMUSH Gallery in Jersey City, NJ
• Performed with Harper Continuum Dance Theatre at the Ailey Citigroup Theater
• Got hired for a project called Musicals with a Message where I got to dance on the subway
• Reconnected with one of my favorite choreographer friends, Ross Daniel, on a new piece
• Started planning/organizing a new performance platform with my collaborator Sarah Rose in Vermont
• PLUS many more things on the calendar this summer!

2018: age 22

Here we go! I just graduated in May from Florida State University with a BFA in dance and a BS in marketing. I am getting ready to move to New York City in August to pursue my dream of being a professional dancer. I would be lying if I did not say I was a little scared. Dancing in New York has never actually been my dream (I always envisioned myself on the West Coast). However, it seems like the best move for me right now as I have many friends and contacts up there who I believe can help support me during this transition. I do not actually know what the “life of a professional dancer” entails. I see myself doing more project and freelance work but possibly joining a larger company in the future. I guess you’ll have to tune in next year to see how it all pans out…

My senior year was a challenging one. Trying to keep up with finishing both majors, preparing for the future, and trying to enjoy my last moments of college proved to be almost impossible. I also incurred my first major dance injury. (I had been pretty lucky up until this point!) I was attending the New Dialect winter intensive in Nashville when I broke my toe right before my last semester. This took me out of technique classes for most of the semester. (Thankfully, I had enough credits that this was not a problem.) Instead, I enrolled in the Cross-Training for Dancers course that is provided by the FSU dance conditioning staff for dancers who are unable to fully participate in technique class. I am truly indebted to the conditioning staff for helping me create a conditioning program personalized to me and my injury that kept me optimistic and motivated during this trying time. My conditioning program involved not only injury rehabilitation but also increasing capacity of other muscle groups and areas of weakness that I may not have been able to focus on in the past. I am now fully recovered and back into regular dance classes. I can’t wait to try all the new and exciting classes in NYC!

Also, I choreographed my first official piece, entitled MINDSCAPE, which was selected for the FSU Days of Dance performance in April. This was something I had been wanting to do for a long time, and I am happy I finally pushed myself to do it. The process of creating a new work was both invigorating and exhausting all at the same time. Thankfully, I was blessed with an amazing cast who came on this crazy ride with me. I cannot thank them enough for their dedication and support as I navigated my own choreographic process. I have attached a pic of me and my cast!

2017: age 21

I am about to start my senior year at Florida State University. I will be graduating August 2018 with my BFA in dance and BS in marketing. I have worked really hard to achieve both majors, and am excited to complete them both with just an extra summer of classes. This past year has been a really telling one for myself. I have come into my own within the FSU dance program and have been able to make educated, more mature decisions. I had the pleasure of working with Suzanne Farrell in the fall of 2016, when she set Stars and Stripes on a group of dancers in the program. I am not sure how much longer I will be continuing pointe work, but I still love it and want to continue until I can’t. Additionally, I was given the opportunity to be a rehearsal assistant for guest choreographer Andre Zachery. This gave me a completely different perspective on the choreographic process, and trained my eye in a more specific way of watching dance.

Being a junior, I did have more seniority, but I feel like I finally learned how to say “no” and how important that can be to my health, happiness and drive to continue dancing. I was less concerned with the quantity of dances I was in but more focused on the quality. I only chose to be in pieces where I knew the choreographer or had a clear desire to work with them. I was not in a mental place to start a new process with a new choreographer. I found the value in working with a single choreographer for an extended period.

Over the past three years, I have had the pleasure of working with now MFA graduate Ross Daniel. We have established a great dancer-choreographer relationship, and he has me doing just about anything. When you find that comfort with a choreographer that you just want to give them everything you have and more, it is a really special thing. This past year, I worked with Ross on his MFA thesis concert, entitled Infinite K, which included a 25-minute work with him, myself and two other female dancers. Never have I been with such a tight-knit group of dancers in a rehearsal process. It was absolutely amazing to work with people I trust and would do anything for. A section of his work was selected to be shown at the Southeast Regional American College Dance Association conference at the University of South Florida in March of 2017. I think it was the most important work I have done up until this point. It taught me so much about myself, my own love for choreography, and what type of creative process I want to be involved in.

After being involved in Ross’ work and having an amazing composition class with Gwen Welliver, I am ready to embark on my own choreographic journey. Up until this point, I have never had the desire or drive to choreograph. Now I can’t wait to get into the studio. I think it will open a whole new world of my dancing. On top of that, I have officially decided I want to dance professionally after college, and plan on auditioning for companies throughout my senior year. Don’t ask me where, don’t ask me who, don’t ask me how! I don’t know the details yet but I just know I’m doing it. My goals for the summer are to work on my reel, develop a website, and update my resume. Additionally, I will be participating in the Axis Connect summer intensive in late July, and hope to connect with a lot of new artists.

More than ever before, I am just so excited about my dance career, all the possibilities, and where it might take me. I have definitely seen a shift in my thinking over the past year as I slowly make the transition from student to professional artist. I am constantly thinking about networking, getting my face out there, taking care of my body, etc. I will be riding this momentum all the way through senior year!

2016: age 20

This past year in dance has been an interesting one. After finishing another great four weeks at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance, I started my second year as a BFA dance major at Florida State University. This past year taught me the lesson of not overextending yourself the hard way. I involved myself in too many dance pieces and projects, and my body suffered as a consequence. The 13-hour days plus my 19-hour course load left me exhausted and tired for most of the semester. I loved all the performing, but it had a negative effect on my studio performance. I often found myself tired and unmotivated in the classroom, which is something I had never experienced before. I quickly learned that overextending myself did not push me as a dancer but actually had negative effects on my wellbeing. However, this pushed me to make some hard personal decisions about what I want my future to look like. Even with the hectic schedule and lack of motivation, I came to the realization that performing is my favorite thing and what I want to do as a profession. I have committed myself to doing anything and everything in my power to get there and fulfill my dream of being professional dancer. The time I recently spent  studying abroad in Paris helped revitalize my motivation and open my eyes to different ways of moving and understanding dance. I took a variety of contemporary classes that really felt like they suited me and my movement style. This was encouraging — to know there are choreographers out there who I could see myself working with. On top of it all, I saw so many amazing dance performances, including work by Pina Bausch, Hofesh Shechter and Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. The choreography and dancers were unlike anything I have seen before and left me speechless every single time. It would be a dream to perform for any of these companies! I will keep this dream in mind as I start my third year at FSU and move back into the studio with a fresh perspective and revitalized motivation.

2015: age 19

It has been an amazing year of dance as I started my freshman year at Florida State University. I chose this BFA program because I thought it was the best choice for me but I never imagined how much I would love it! My perspective of dance has completely changed as I have been exposed to so many different people with various styles and backgrounds. I love being able to study dance in a university setting. There is so much support for new, innovative choreography. For me personally, my modern skills have greatly improved as I took different modern and contemporary classes four times a week.

To continue the growth I experienced during the school year, I have chosen to come back to the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance for session three. The Conservatory was very transformative in my dance career two years ago and I cannot wait to see where it takes me this year!

2014: age 18

This past year has been quite the journey as I prepare for the next step in my dancing career. I have been everywhere from Arizona, Florida and Oklahoma auditioning for college dance programs and sent in DVD auditions to even more universities. I received multiple letters of rejection that made me question the path I was taking. It wasn’t until I auditioned at Florida State University when I truly knew I was making the right decision. Their program was exactly what I was looking for as it focuses on multiple disciplines and allows for choreographic development of their students. The university was also beautiful and exactly what I was looking for in the traditional college experience. This fall I will be attending Florida State University and pursuing a BFA in dance. I also plan to double major in marketing. I am not going to any intensives this summer but plan on working on my technique at my local studio before leaving in the fall.

2013: age 17

Currently I am in a pre-professional dance company outside of Houston called Kingwood Dance Theatre. I am preparing to start applying for colleges and audition for dance programs. I feel that this past year I have experience significant growth in my dancing, especially in my upper body. Attending the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance summer program has pushed my dancing to another level and given me an even larger opportunity for growth! I feel this growth and maturity will help guide me in the right direction in choosing the college dance program that is best for me. I still have so far to go before I am ready for the professional dance world but I hope the steps I am taking right now lead me in that direction. I’m not going to lie — I ask myself everyday if I am good enough to get into any college dance programs, but I will work hard for these next couple months and see where life takes me.

The post Alexandra: Let’s All Keep Moving appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2023: age 27

Right now, my movement practice has two heads. One looks like carving out time to rest, watch TV (mostly cartoons and animations), play video games, or do nothing. The other looks like setting up routines, spending time in the sun, taking weekly dance classes, and actually doing my physical therapy exercises. The resting head seeks to find solace in the present moment. The routine-oriented head aims to create opportunities for regular self check-ins. These two heads are working in tandem so my imagination can run wild.

In late May 2023, I produced a weekend of dance titled We Aren’t Alone Here. I paid visiting and local artists to create new works for a public performance. I choreographed and performed in my work. I hosted the show, and I taught workshops throughout the week. I also did all the admin and marketing for the event. The whole thing was a lot of work, and one month later I am still decompressing. However, I had a blast doing it. I loved the energy we cultivated throughout the weekend, and I am proud of the work I premiered on stage. I learned that I am definitely capable of doing all the necessary pieces to produce a dance show. In reflection, I learned that next time I would prefer to share the load of responsibilities.

I feel like a blank canvas. Many times in my past I would rush to get away from this feeling by immediately jumping into new creative projects. This time I am relishing the opportunity to keep the canvas blank.

Check out more of my work emerging at dragonsdance.com.

Photo by Robbie Sweeny

2022: age 26

This past year marked a few serious steps for me as an artist. I apprenticed as a lighting designer under a local technical director. I collaborated with artists to design and run lights for their shows. I practiced video editing and sound design. I began addressing emotion in my dancing. I learned I love to choreograph. I started to use Dragons Dance, the dance company I founded in 2020 with 501(c)(3) status. I hired and paid dancers whom I adore. Together, we premiered Dragons Dance’s first in-person show.

I seem to be processing a transition. I’ve done things I’m really proud of. I’m not sure what to do next. I can’t exactly tell what is changing. It seems to be my relationship with dance. I hate change, but this one feels good.

I have affirmed that it is up to me to create my own path as an artist. Depending on when you ask me, this is beautifully freeing or completely overwhelming. I can go back and forth about the pros and cons, but what settles my conscience is knowing there is space for all artists if we all make our own way. If I can be completely unique while recognizing the same in others, then we can all find our own success.

At the core, I believe it is worthwhile to treat artists well. I’m having fun with this in practice, so I’ll tell you more about it next year.

Photo by Erin Yen

2021: age 25

In short, I am spending time and energy towards myself. Last year was an introspective one. I am hoping to take the lessons I’ve learned and bring them forward in my practice with positive energy.

Today you can find me taking “Omega Floorwork” classes and holding space for creativity. Whether in a studio, outside, or at home, I recognize that space is a valuable resource – one that is crucial to my understanding of dance. This past year I learned that I heavily associate dance with how it occupies space. I like to compose movement in space through time. Having little space to dance in my San Francisco apartment, I tried to dramatically shift my perspective. I couldn’t. I instead have begun to deeply recognize how (available) space is socioeconomically divided. Space is a privilege.

I’ve additionally submitted to the fact to that I need to take dance classes my entire life. I think awhile ago I knew that a journey through dance was an endless one. I thought I was clear about how I would have to constantly reinvest time and energy into my own body to reap the results of creative potential. In reality, it took a couple years post-graduation to embody that knowledge. Everything shifts when you have a lifetime of bills to pay!

2020: age 24

I’m dancing only sometimes, but I’m dancing for me.

It feels strange to think of the past year as half in 2019 and half in 2020. I definitely took 2019’s casual experiences around human connection for granted. An emerging, young artist, and somewhat introverted at that, by nature I have not (yet) grounded myself in community. At the turn of the decade, I knew 2020 would bring massive change and I was determined to throw myself physically into dance. All the while, January’s nagging, unstable cloud loomed. It warned that we could not continue as we have been. I felt the creaks in my knees, I heard my body shout for change, but I had only known one way of being. I wasn’t ready for this.

This is new, scary, but my senses are open to people’s vast differences in new ways. I am thankful for the time to invest in a different way of being. I’m listening more deeply, to my own body and to others. I’m seeking out information that isn’t readily at my disposal (becoming a better Googler and asking others in my community who know more than me). In reflection, Michael Jordan’s The Last Dance sticks out. Alongside showcasing the intricacies of teamwork and tenacity, this 10-part documentary series emphasized staying present in the moment. I have heard the lesson “stay present” before.

This time it feels new.

2019: age 23

I always enjoy responding to this prompt. It brings me back to the year previous, where I again chose a certain set of words to represent my progress with movement. It allows me to scan through the year I have had and reflect. I am not sure I give myself enough opportunities throughout the year for this task.

I am currently living and dancing in San Francisco. Not as much as I’d like, but I am learning every day how to better incorporate my understanding of movement into my surroundings. I have been freelancing throughout my time in projects focused on process, those focused on product, all the while figuring out what makes the most sense for me.

It has been a rocky road of balancing emotions with logic. Knowing I have the power and the privilege to continue dancing, I want to already see the world changing at my fingertips. I feel ready to make an impact, but logically I know that millennial-stained noun takes time and work to achieve. I have never shied away from hard work; I am just a little (painfully) young. So, I practice patience. It is a skill I have never been good at, and one I had never dedicated the time to succeed at.

Throughout this past year, I have begun work on building sustainable personal practices. I am finding ways to love movement in a way the fuels me.

2018: age 22

Shedding. I am beginning to shed the movement skins that have encased my body throughout school. Information not needed has left, and that which is important yet not currently relevant is slowly burying itself deeper into my body history. I just graduated Summa Cum Laude from Ohio State University with a BFA and distinction honors in dance. That’s a long title, and I believe its length accurately portrays one of the largest lessons I experienced this past year. I learned that the full expression of my many skillsets will bring me to new heights of personal achievement, but that working for work’s sake does not a fulfilled artist make.

Listing chronologically through the past nine months, I performed Ohad Naharin’s Minus 16 in collaboration with BalletMet Columbus. I finished my Labanotated score of Doug Varone’s acclaimed choreographic work Possession. I danced at the Gaga Winter Workshop in New York City. I headed Columbus’ regional section of National Choreography Month. I was awarded grant funding to create my senior thesis, Shared Ground, for which I choreographed two group works as well as a solo for myself. I additionally scored these works using Motif analysis and presented my distinction research at Ohio State’s Denman Forum. I took a graduate-level composition class where I created an auto-ethnographic solo (titled She hath no name. . .) driven by my relationship to self as a fantasy-driven, technologically-savvy body. I graduated top of my class, and I put my degree to immediate use performing works in Seattle and Philadelphia. I am currently at Springboard Dance Montreal working in new processes with Johannes Wieland and Michael Getman.

Tired from reading my list? I got exhausted writing it out, let alone working through it. I did arguably too many things. I am extremely proud of my accomplishments, but I wish I had more time to dive deeper into each of my projects. I feel as though I created many beginnings to pathways of exploration that will take me a lifetime more to fulfill.

So I go back to shedding and listening to my instincts as I do. I trust that what remains I need, what leaves I do not, and what gets shelved will not be left untouched forever. I wish I had more time to dedicate myself to personal reflection but, because I am currently at a movement workshop soaking in new information as I shed the old, I know the time to look back will come. For now, I trust my instincts to carry me forward. I am committed to a lifetime in dance, and while I am unsure where it will take me, I am thrilled to start the journey.

2017: age 21

I am, at this very moment in time, summer 2017, dancing in a study-abroad trip based in Denmark. Also, currently, I am looking toward my final year as a college dance student at Ohio State University pursuing a BFA in dance.

I have learned a couple lessons this year which I will carry with me for the remainder of my career. Even if not consciously, the lessons will live in my body — an entity which I truly believe is smarter than my own mind.

During the fall of 2016, I had the opportunity to dance with choreographer Bebe Miller for her last work at OSU before her retirement in December. Here I learned about the importance of the people inside a contemporary dance. “Contemporary dance,” I think, is still very loosely defined. From virtuosic leaps to grungy contractions, from narratives to dances that seem to mean nothing, everything along these lines of reference could be contemporary dance. What I found through working with Bebe Miller was a movement piece that centered around the individuals operating inside the work. The choreography was hers; in fact, we were drawing phrase-work primarily from her earlier works Going to the Wall (1998) and Nothing Can Happen Only Once (1993), but we as the dancers shaped the work as it evolved. From Bebe, I learned that every dancer carries their own nuanced understanding of how movement interacts in space. From that, a new dance will form even when filled with movement from another time.

The other lesson I learned is that furthering ideas comes down to the process of communication. This is a thought that I am still unpacking, but it stemmed from when I constructed a solo, Of Stillness (2017). In this work, I looked at the use of motif and Laban Movement Analysis as modes of composition to help a dance shape itself over time. The journey to the end product taught me communicative patience. As both choreographer and dancer, these two parts of me wanted information at different speeds, in different time frames, and at not-always-aligning abilities to provide either end of that information. I saw that even in one person, the communication of ideas from imagery to physicality required varying transactions, all of which landed with varying degrees of success. Imagine how truly difficult it is then to make dance with many people, to make any vision happen with a group? Moving forward, I’d like to maintain awareness of this.

2016: age 20

I am currently a student at Ohio State University pursuing a BFA in dance. In the fall, I will begin my third of four years.

I believe I will look back at this past year as a year marked with change and growth. There were many ‘up’ moments filled with excitement from new knowledge and self-discoveries, just as there were many ‘down’ moments filled with stress and self-doubt, but I am thankful for the journey that has led me to where I stand now. I more than ever trust my instincts, believe I have a good head on my shoulders, and see all the tools I need to make informed decisions.

Two important decisions I made this year were that I will have faith in following my instincts to do nothing more than what I think is right for me in the moment, and that I want to perform professionally. Upon entering Ohio State’s college dance program, I wanted to see what the field had to offer. I learned there are many different outlets in which to use dance knowledge, and after getting the taste of quite a few, I can say I find all aspects as equally important cogs in the working clock of the field, but my heart lies in performing. I love the choreographic process. I love the art of tapping into another’s mind to help coach movement art into fruition.

And although I have decided I want to perform, other aspects of dance remain just as important to me. This year I learned about movement analysis, a new passion of mine I did not previously know existed. I’m super into Rudolf Laban. He revolutionized modern dance to become an abstract expressionist art form. While I appreciate the rich history and art of Labanotation, my interests in movement analysis at the moment lie more with Motif and LMA principles, which I believe allow for a more complex, deeper understanding of movement to develop. Some things I am thinking about now are how efforts and intentions as explained by Laban enhance a performer’s understanding of work.

Over the course of my years as a dancer, I have had some great teachers, and this year was no exception. What I got in excess this year was a group of dance scholars — I say this to encompass both dance academic and movement professors — with advice that significantly changed my outlook on dance and the greater role it plays as a part of the human experience. One lesson that shaped me came from Dr. Hannah Kosstrin, my 20-21st century concert dance history teacher, who said, “Our bodies are a living history of everything we have danced before.” In other words, our bodies are moving archives of every past dance technique and teacher we have trained with, every choreographic process and performance, every injury or trauma, every movement interaction we have made with the world surrounding us. Bodies are smarter than the mind realizes, and it carries years (for me it is now 20 years) worth of movement information.

Understanding this allowed me to better celebrate the movement journey that has brought me to my current place. To hear that essentially every individual body is a different grouping of eclectic physical lessons was important for my greater appreciation of where I am at. I can be nothing more than what I am currently. In the past, I found myself somewhat ashamed of my not-so-traditional, very jumbled and eclectic route towards contemporary concert dance. I had believed that not being raised a “bunhead” left me lacking, and that I would need to play a constant game of catch-up to those with backgrounds in solely codified techniques. But I am not lacking. My experience in tap, Irish dance, cross-country running and jazz have left me with a different set of movement histories to inform me daily.

I also got to be a part of some historic moments this past year. OSU faculty member Bebe Miller will be retiring after fall semester 2016, and I was lucky to have been a student in her final contemporary technique course this past spring. I will always remember our final class together, where we played music to commemorate the recent loss of Prince, and danced. As we pounded on the floor, hooted and hollered, and clapped for our amazing teacher to signify the end of our final class, she said to us, “You’ve just got to do it, figure it out, and pass it on.” From Bebe, I learned loads. She, with lessons paralleling those from my ballet professor Karen Eliot, helped me to understand that ballet and contemporary dance have the same alignment challenges. Bebe got me to consider the ephemeral nature of dance and movement. And through her advice, I now turn to watching Trisha Brown’s Water Motor when I need a splash of dance inspiration.

Some of my greatest moments of growth, both the growth that is physically marked as well as the mental growth that occurs when you once again realize that you know basically nothing, came from studying under Eddie Taketa. As a new faculty member at OSU after his recent retirement from Doug Varone and Dancers, I had the pleasure of taking his contemporary technique and participating in a new work he created. One of my most memorable moments in Eddie’s technique class came when he demonstrated a complicated combination quickly, and the students including myself stood there with troubled looks, thinking too hard about what we just saw and how we would possibly learn it. Eddie paused and said to us relax, “Your body knows technique. You’ve been training in dance for years. You no longer have to think about the steps. You can just trust that your body knows them.” This absolutely connects to my Dr. Kosstrin lesson. The body is way smarter than we realize and I have an entire history of learning movement to inform my dancing. So with this advice from Eddie, I learned to relax and ride the wave of information that my body soaks up when the mind is at ease. Another Eddie lesson states that you essentially can plan nothing; you can only allow yourself to remain open for experience to happen to you. For my Type A, organized and controlling personality, this has been a hard pill to swallow, but I cannot deny the truth in that statement. Living in the past or the future is nothing compared to existing in the moment, and if I can’t plan future experience, then why not enjoy what’s going on in the present?

Eddie Taketa brought the Doug Varone and Dancers Summer Workshop to my attention, so a couple of my classmates and I went to Skidmore College this summer to work with the company. I just recently got home from the workshop, and I am still taking time to process all of the aspects of this amazing experience. What I can say is that I honed more movement skills, and my body got the chance to soak up and archive more teacher histories. But maybe most importantly, I was reminded of all the lessons I had learned over the past school year in patience, living in the current moment, trust, celebrating difference, and letting go. I was reminded that the smart mover is sought out and appreciated.

My summer is not yet over; my dance journey has just begun. Rounding out my summer of dance, on July 5th I began the Hubbard Street Summer Intensive in Chicago. I will follow up that with the week-long Gaga workshop in NYC, then return to school early to work with MFA candidate Josh Manculich on his upcoming thesis work. Moving forward into the coming school year, I remain aware that dance is the art of trying to be perfect in a world where there is no such thing. There will always be room for growth, and I can’t wait to experience that journey.

2015: age 19

I just finished my first year at the Ohio State University where I am studying to receive a BFA in Dance. I had a lovely first year. Ohio State has a program that is as physically demanding as it is academically challenging. It is a small program; my year has a class of 17, but the BFAs share space with the MFAs or PhDs in dance. I am very fortunate to gain knowledge from my fellow BFA students, but I am especially grateful for the grad students (MFA and PhD students) who share their experiences with me, as most of them have danced professionally and are now coming back to school. From them I have, time and time again, learned that dance is a versatile and expansive field that can extend into any aspect I choose. I feel stronger as an artist and more experienced as a person having gone through year one of college. But dance, what used to be my hobby, is now my job. That change is striking, as I am now finding that I have both more and less time to extend my passions into other areas of interest (cooking, for example). But I love my job, and I am fortunate to have decided at a young age that dance was something I found worth the commitment. In the coming school year, I will be performing a lot, creating some, and learning more about my field than I’m sure I know exists right now. I can’t wait.

2014: age 18

As of right now, I have just finished a Giordano jazz summer workshop, and in a couple of weeks I will be attending the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance. This fall I will be entering college at Ohio State University as a BFA dance major. My interest in dance as a performing art, as well as a lifestyle choice, continues to drive my work in the field, and I am excited to be moving on to a new chapter in my study of dance.

2013: age 17

I just got home from the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance and will venture to Cornish College of the Arts’ summer intensive this coming Saturday. Dance is a large part of my life right now as I experiment with what my interests are and how those interests may play out in the future. This coming school year, I will be a senior in high school, so I need to consider possible plans for after high school and how dance can fit into them. After training with SFCD, I feel as if I approach dance with a different perspective and have gained a more effective work ethic. I plan to bring this more refined attitude towards dance and dance training to my studies over the next year. I know I have a lot to learn as far as dance is concerned, but I am willing to get as much as I can out of each lesson because I’d like dance to be a part of my life for a long time. That is where I stand with dance right now.

The post Erin: A Blank Canvas appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2023: age 24

Gratitude is permeating the fabric of my being as I write this entry; my 11th one for this project, and I cannot even fathom the growth and change that I have undergone during that time. Something possessed me to go back and read all 10 of the previous submissions I have made, and I had tears in my eyes looking back on the steps that have gotten me to where I am. It’s funny to think that when you’re in the moment, you don’t know what it will mean or where it’s taking you, which is BEYOND cliche, but so real. To read my little entries from high school and then watch them get longer and longer through college and up to now is surreal…you know what they say about hindsight. Anyway. Back to the present.

This has been a big year for me, and the more I reflect, the more I can appreciate how much my younger self would be proud. I was promoted at the end of our previous season to a Senior Apprentice, solidifying my place in Avant Chamber Ballet (ACB), and getting me one step closer to the full company status that I have hungered for since my early training. Our season was great, and full of a lot of challenge and joy. Our first show was our 10-year Gala celebration, and it was a true beast of a show! We brought back Barocco, had a new work by Jock Soto, The American by Christopher Wheeldon, and then finished with our director’s lovely Rhapsody in Blue. Then came Nutcracker shortly after, Alice in Wonderland in the spring, then Women’s Choreography Project (WCP) in April to close the season out! WCP was probably the most rewarding show that I have had yet at ACB, not necessarily from a cardio/death-defying lens, but certainly artistically. Jennifer Mabus, who is a brilliant teacher and choreographer that actually taught me back at Booker T. Washington HSPVA years ago, came and created a work on us inspired by her love for tango. It was a contemporary ballet, and I was fortunate enough to get the opening solo for the work, which she later told me embodied her love for tango. It was a beautiful experience, and I was very grateful for the opportunity to move in that way, exploring qualities that I have missed, and working with Jen was a gift. Katie Puder, our director, also created a new work to music by Debussy, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The costumes, the music, the movement all sang in harmony, and I had an incredible time working on it. The opening movement was between me and my best friend in the company, Mackenzie, and we had THE BEST time dancing together. It was a challenge, it was a joy. I was also honored to be chosen to do an adagio solo to Clair de Lune in the same ballet, which filled my heart and soul to the brim. The movement was married to the music, and I was completely submerged in the union. It was probably the work that has felt the most like “me” that I’ve been able to perform since being here. It was a true treat, and I’ll never forget it. To close the year out, I got promoted to full company, and am so looking forward to an incredible next season with ACB.

Alongside a jam-packed season of dancing and performing, I got deep into my love for teaching in new and old ways. I continued to teach at The Dallas Conservatory, ranging from ages five to adult! Each year I have fallen more and more in love with sharing dance and connecting with students, and this year was no different. Besides my classes and weekly private lessons, I was also asked to create a work for the studio’s young competitive team called “Studio Company.” My boyfriend Alexander (hilariously, never before mentioned on this platform though this is my seventh year of loving him) is a musical theater and music aficionado, and gave me a few choices of songs to choose from. We landed on a gripping and gorgeous piece of string music with an intense beat, infectious melody, and inspirational composition. Though I wouldn’t necessarily have called myself a choreographer before this, I choreographed what became Prism, an award-winning piece for these girls. I had eight WONDERFUL girly-pops, and together we created something that I think we are all very proud of. The girls won first place multiple times, and all of that aside, they grew and performed beautifully. It was a really rewarding experience, both in the teaching of the group, and also in just getting to know the girls and their moms. I really grew to love and adore all of them, and my girly-pops will always have a special place in my heart. Teaching has given me so much joy. I never thought that I would enjoy it so much, but I can actually feel the impact and connection that I have with my students, and they impact me as well. It is beautiful to be able to share dance and help others grow as I was helped, and I can only hope to have as positive of an influence on them as I wanted growing up. I was also incredibly lucky to get involved with Avant Chamber Ballet’s First Steps program, where we give free classes and ballet shoes to young students in Dallas, providing free dance training to anyone who wants or needs it. Teaching those kids was incredible because you knew that they really wanted to be there. They were sponges! Anything I gave them they sucked right up and the enthusiasm never died throughout the entire year. I am looking forward to continuing that in the upcoming year, teaching over double the classes I had this year!

Needless to say, I have so much to be grateful for. As I write this, I am sitting in my Utah bff’s house, preparing for my third year as an RA and teacher at the Utah Ballet Summer Intensive, participating in the “other side” of the place that built me up to my professional career. I was chosen to be on the poster for our production of Swan Lake at ACB next year, I was asked to choreograph on the Studio Company again, and my classes are going to fill my non-rehearsal time with hard work and joy (and exhaustion, but let’s focus on the fun stuff for now). I’m moving out of my mom’s house this summer, going on a cruise to visit Alexander as he takes part in the first big gig of his career, and life is good. I recently read a book called An Ordinary Age, which goes deep into the psychology of being in your 20s and 30s, acknowledging so many of the stressors and pressures that people in our age group face, and the biggest takeaway that I got from this incredible book was something that I also read in one of my previous entries: I am already where I need to be. Yes, I will continue to push for my goals. Yes, I will never really “arrive,” but I will experience. Yes, there is so much left to be seen and felt and done. However, the person I am, right now, is enough. The person I am, in this part of my life, is exactly who I am supposed to be. So much can be lost in getting stuck in the past and future (another cliche, but give me a break I’m having a spiritual moment), and I am constantly trying to remember that everything that I need is in my present. The woman that I am deserves recognition, appreciation, and gratitude. Every step that I have ever taken has been taken with my best intentions, and has created me and who I am. I will continue to take these steps, will continue to celebrate myself and what I have done and who I am becoming, will continue to push and work for what I want, but simultaneously recognize that the life I am living is beautiful, and a dream come true. In the words of my younger self, “Lots of unknown, but I do know that I love what I’m doing, and that is enough.” Can you tell my mental health has gotten better?

All of this to say, the road is not easy, but it’s my road! And I love her! All the twists and turns, ups and downs, dips and hills, are mine, and I plan on owning that and living it to my fullest extent. The only thing I can do is what I can do, and that is enough. I am enough.

Photo courtesy Avant Chamber Ballet, photo by Jordan Fraker

2022: age 23

Every time I get the email to participate in this wonderful project, I am blown away that yet another year has gone by. Will I ever be aware of the passing of time while I’m in it? Maybe, maybe not.

This year, like all the others, had its own specific brand of insanity. I taught 10 ballet classes, three privates, two nights of customer service, and danced full time, every week for the whole season. It was busy, it was often overwhelming, but it was ultimately rewarding and growth inducing.

Being an apprentice with Avant Chamber Ballet this past year was a lovely and demanding experience. I was in every show, and in one show was in every single piece in that show(!). We started the season off with Napoli and Ragtime, moved swiftly into Nutcracker and setting Concerto Barocco for the spring, had Barocco and a new ballet by the director alongside a returning work for our spring show, and closed the season with A Soldier’s Tale and Jeux, a ballet choreographed by Fernanda Olivera from Philadelphia Ballet. Needless to say, there was lots of dancing, lots of rehearsing, lots of performing. My favorite show was definitely the first spring performance. I was fortunate enough to be the only apprentice selected to be in the director’s new work, Bartok Duets, and had an absolute blast in both the process and the performance. Being in every piece, especially with Barocco opening the show, was a challenge but extremely satisfying to push through and ultimately enjoy. I felt myself push my own boundaries and improve artistically and technically throughout the year. I will be returning in the fall as a promoted second year apprentice, with weekly pay (!) and pay per performance. She’s on her way up in the professional world, folks! I am excited to continue my journey with the company and will be teaching some classes to little ones at ACB as well as at The Dallas Conservatory for supplemental income. Teaching has been a surprising joy and challenge, but I think there is definitely a future for me in that field.

It would be inauthentic for me to write this whole update without mentioning some hardship. This year has not been easy on me, mostly mentally. I have been struggling with high anxiety and some depressive side effects of that exhausting mindset, and it has been affecting my whole life, especially in the studio. On a good day, I was on top of the world and enjoying every moment. On a bad day, I questioned everything—my body, my abilities, my career, my future, my relationships, my desires. I’ve had anxiety throughout my life, but I think it has come out fully as of the new year.

I participated in a beautiful program, Yoga for Dancers, and a huge part of that was not only building physical strength for cross training health, but also diving deep into our psychological roadblocks and learning a lot about what makes you think the way you do, and what may be holding you back. That, alongside starting therapy to work through the grief and trauma of losing my father almost nine years ago, has opened me up in huge ways, allowing for healing, but the healing begins with the seeing and feeling, and I have been overwhelmed often with what I’ve found, new and old. I’m working through these cycles of feeling, and know that navigating these challenges will be a lifelong experience that will evolve and shift as I do, and hope that I will find more self-love and confidence on that journey.

Dance has yet again proved itself to be my first love, and like any love, there are ups and downs and fluctuations that I am trying to embrace and not shy away from. These struggles and triumphs are informing my artistic growth and trajectory, and I need to remind myself that this path is none but my own, and I need to own that and dive deep into it, holding tight to my intention and passion in this world I have planted myself in.

P.S. I miss contemporary movement. I am still in love with ballet, and I cannot imagine hanging up my pointe shoes, but I do miss moving in that way and hope that I can find a dance home in the future that can satiate my artistic hunger in a fuller way. I am happy at ACB, but something tells me it isn’t my end all be all for my career, and I need to trust in myself and in the universe to guide me to whatever my next steps may be, whenever that change will be made.

2021: age 22

I am continuously amazed by how unexpectedly life unfolds at every turn. At almost any moment in my life, you could ask me, “Is this how you thought life would be a year ago?” And I would laugh and say, “Absolutely not!” And yet, there has been beauty in every moment, despite any and all hardship or trial, and I hold nothing but gratitude for the path I have been on and the path I am forging for myself.

When I was writing my yearly reflection last June, I was taking ballet classes in my living room with a makeshift piece of dance floor and a barre for one. I was awaiting my trip to Chicago to dance with A&A Ballet and see if I would be hired into their company. Oooooh how the tables turned, and how quickly as well! On my first day at A&A, I looked around and realized I was, quite noticeably, the oldest in the room. I turned to one of my classmates and asked her if this demographic was normal, or if it was a result the pandemic. She replied that this past year, there was one girl over the age of 20, but otherwise this was normal.

I, a seasoned 21-year-old at the time, was startled by this revelation. I pressed on, “So how does the company work, is it separate from this program or…?” and she calmly replied, “Oh, we don’t really have a company here.”

BOOM. That was the sound of my heart dropping through the floor. After the pandemic had robbed me of not only my last few months of college, but also my audition season and the beginning of my career, my last hope had just vanished before I even took my first class. I decided to stay calm and simply enjoy being in a studio again, doing what I loved, in a city that I loved, for the next month.

Despite those comforting thoughts, I couldn’t help but start to plan Mission Impossible: Figure My Life Out Amidst Global Pandemic as a Dancer. I decided I needed three things to survive at the present moment: a place to live, a place to dance, and a source of income. I’m a list person, so this actually helped me put things into perspective. I had a couple of options. I could’ve stayed in Chicago and paid to dance with A&A, I could’ve moved back to Utah and figured things out, or I could’ve moved home. After more lists and comparisons, the only option that made sense overall was moving home. That covered the first necessity: a place to live. Income was also covered, as I had been working as a barista and had also been offered a nannying sort of position by a family friend, so check off box number two.

But the most important box, a place to dance, was still muggy. I began sending out even more auditions for dance positions in companies in Dallas. I had never anticipated moving home before this point, so I had not really considered the local companies yet. I also was considering paying for dance classes at night to maintain my technique while I lived at home and saved up money to be a normal human once this all faded away. The last week of A&A arrived, and besides Alexei offering me a position in their training program in Chicago (for about $1000 a month, sheesh), my inbox was empty of offers or replies. I was starting to feel the weight of the unknown and the weight of the pandemic’s losses hitting me.

And then, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, I received a call from Avant Chamber Ballet’s artistic director offering me a full tuition scholarship to be a trainee.

Box. Number. Three.

I was elated. Out of nowhere, when I had felt the most lost, things had fallen into place, and even better than I had hoped. Not only did I have a spot to dance, but it was with a real company, and I was valued enough to be offered a scholarship. It was official: my career had begun. I was going to be just fine.

I came home from Chicago a literal TWO DAYS before my time with Avant began, but was ready to start my next adventure. I, a dancer who had never really had Balanchine training, dove headfirst into a Balanchine company, and adapted accordingly. One of my favorite things about ACB is that although a lot of their repertory is Balanchine or neoclassical, a wide range of styles is practiced, both in technique classes and in performance. I was able to add another tool to my tool belt in getting comfortable with Balanchine movement, while also maintaining my classical training. Even further, we performed a contemporary work by one of my old Booker T. classmates, Madison Hicks. Talk about full circle.

We were lucky enough to be able to perform at an outdoor stage, right next to Booker T. in the arts district. It was a beautiful performing environment and gave us the opportunity to perform during an era of empty stages. We had a set of performances in October, filmed Nutcracker for an online viewing, and had another set of performances in March. As a trainee, I was asked to perform with the company in all these shows but was also a part of trainee-specific performances at a couple of venues between and after company shows! I also feel like my technique has grown a lot with ACB. Eugene and Katie have helped me so much to push beyond my self-created boundaries, finding new potential and fostering new abilities I had not known myself capable of prior to being in this environment. As always, the goal for me is to grow and experience, and I got that and then some, all thanks to the miracle Katie gifted me with last August.

Also! Just to clarify: box number 2, income, was happily replaced by teaching dance after rehearsals and working front desk for the studio as well. Being a barista was fun, but sharing dance was definitely an upgrade. I also started teaching private lessons as well, which is a whole new level of rewarding.

Our season at ACB ended a couple of weeks ago, and it was announced that I was offered a first-year company contract as an apprentice with ACB, and I happily accepted. I am so grateful to be a part of Avant Chamber Ballet, and I look forward to continuing my journey here.

I think ultimately, looking forward, I would like to be in a bigger company, in a city I don’t know so well, dancing Wheeldon, Cerrudo, and Kylian amongst the classics. I know I am on track to where I long to be. And I’m just going to trust that all my efforts and all the love that I have for this art form are going to carry me forward, and that the universe will plant me where I will grow the tallest. If there’s anything I have learned from the past year, it’s that I cannot plan each and every step, because things are constantly inconsistent. All I can do is go forward with love and kindness in every intention and know that my path will become clear in time.

As for the present, I think it’s time for a snack.

2020: age 21

Oh, what a year this has been. It was a year of extreme highs, lows, and unexpected blows. From the very beginning of the school year, it was unusual for me. For starters, it was my last year of college! I had finished my degree the year before and was uncertain whether I was going to return for my fourth year. That summer, I had received an offer from Oklahoma City Ballet to be a trainee but, seeing as it was more of a training program than a job, I decided to return to the University of Utah in the fall. After speaking with my mentors, it seemed like the better option, especially because I was on full tuition scholarship at the U and would have had to pay for the traineeship.

It was my fourth year, and my (second) senior year! I was excited, I was riding the high of performing on Broadway with BalletNext, and I was in the best shape of my life, going to the gym, taking yoga classes, and dancing all throughout the summer so I would be at my best.

And then…I HAMMERED MY FREAKING FINGER. Yes, you read correctly. Hammered it. I was doing work in the garage with my mom, and literally slammed my finger with a rubber mallet so hard that the tendon on my left index finger completely lacerated (a super gross medical word I learned – it literally just means torn-clean-through. Yuck.). I had to get surgery immediately and was told that I wouldn’t be able to exercise or do anything that would produce sweat for SIX WEEKS. Obviously, to a dancer, especially one who had worked her butt off all summer to stay in tip-top shape, that was basically a death sentence. I was bawling in the doctor’s office, feeling as though I was witnessing every dream for this year fade away.

I drove back to Utah with my mom, knowing that everything was going to be different. After all, if I couldn’t even dance as a Ballet Major, what the heck was I supposed to do? About a week being back, I went to see my physical therapist they had assigned to me, and my world completely changed.

“What do you mean they said you can’t sweat? Of course you can. Just keep your brace on, and don’t be an idiot.”

“You mean I can dance?”

“Yes, go for it.”

WOOOOOOHOOOOOO! Once I got the green light to MOVE again, I was on a mission. After two weeks of completely no dancing, I was ready to get back into it, no matter how weird it was going to be. I took barre without ever actually holding the barre for about two months and made the most of the experience. Was it hard? UM, YES. But! I grew so much as a result of that body awareness. Life was hard one-handed, believe me, but I made it work as best as I could, and I made it out the other side with a lot more core strength!

During all that insanity, we also had auditions for the fall show, which included Act II of my favorite ballet of all time, Giselle. I was forlorn at the complication that my tendon and massive splint brought for auditions, but not hopeless. I was going to try my best and hope that the faculty could see that I would be healed in about a month’s time, which would be about a month or so from opening night. And I could still dance fully as long as there were no barres involved, so I figured it was worth a shot. During auditions, I was cut from the contemporary audition, as there was too much floor work and partnering for me to be able to do it with my healing injury. I was extremely upset but knew that didn’t necessarily mean I wouldn’t be considered for the ballet. And then, a couple days later, I got cast as the lead. My dream role was finally being realized. I was Giselle in Giselle. WHAT. I genuinely couldn’t believe it!

The rehearsal process was a dream. I have never felt so invested in a role, so immersed in the character and choreography, so in love with ballet. I worked hard and enjoyed every single second of it. The shows went well, and I can say with all certainty that it was the greatest performing experience of my life to date.

After Giselle, it was November! My splint had been off for about two months, and life was busy and back to normal. We began rehearsing for the next show, and I was choreographing a piece for the Ballet Student Showcase. I started to film all my audition materials, and began audition season in November, as I was looking to do European auditions as well as American ones. Things were busy, but things were good! I got into Grand Audition, which essentially is a massive audition with eight companies all viewing invited dancers at once. This year, it was in Barcelona! My mom and I booked the flights, and that was the first thing in the books for the season. I sent more emails than I have ever sent in my life. I sent my videos to every company I could find, abroad or not. My life was spread sheets, cover letters, resumes, CVs, headshots, and dance photos for like six months! I heard back from a lot of places, and got invited to do two other auditions in Europe, as well as multiple company class and invite-only auditions in the States, and was having so much fun traveling and dancing, chasing my dreams all the while.

And then, COVID-19 hit. And it hit hard. On March 16, I attended an audition at Richmond Ballet, and felt fantastic about how it went. Little did I know that audition would be my last of the season, and the last time I would be dancing in a studio for the indeterminable future. By the time I flew back to Utah, the rest of my senior year was put online, and we were under a worldwide lockdown for the pandemic. It was surreal, and honestly still is.

I began to give myself class in the kitchen, using my countertop as a barre, and doing as much center work as I possibly could. I was even doing pointe on a hardwood floor, being as careful as I could be, and trying, desperately, to stay in shape. In April, my mom flew out to Utah, we packed up my car, and we drove back home to Texas to be together during these uncertain times. I was devastated to leave my home of four years, my best friend and roommate, and my boyfriend. But the one perk? I got to make a little personal dance studio in my house! My mom ordered me a barre as a graduation gift, we bought some shower-pan liner to tape down as a floor, and we moved the furniture out of the way. I was open for business!

For the past few months, I have been training hard six days a week, and have even been able to do complete classes on pointe, thanks to my floor! It has certainly not been what I planned, with graduation being virtually online, finishing out all my classes on Zoom, and dancing in my living room, but I have made the best of it and am honestly proud of myself. I have gained so much awareness of my alignment and feel as though I have been able to grow as a dancer during quarantine, thanks to lots of online ballet class videos, lots of self-correcting, and lots of notetaking. By being forced to really be in-tune with my body, I have found that I am balancing better, turning better, and altogether more aware of what I need to do to improve. I have been doing workout classes, using ankle weights, and have been doing lots of Thera-Band exercises, Pilates, and yoga to make sure that I am in the best shape I can be during these insane conditions. I feel like I am staying in shape well, and have not lost any technique besides grand allegro, since I really can’t do that inside my house. It has been really encouraging to see that I am able to be disciplined on my own, and I am grateful that I have that as an artist.

Looking forward, it’s really hard to say what’s going to happen. For me, for a lot of people, life is kind of in limbo. I am going to be attending a small dance intensive in Chicago with A&A Ballet, which will be an audition to be considered for their main company, and that’s all I have planned for the time being. I sent them my materials during the year, and they expressed interest, but said they could only offer me a paid position after working with me, and it just so happened that they didn’t cancel their program. Safety measures will be in place, but soon, I’ll be in a studio again, and I couldn’t be more excited. Besides that, the cancelled auditions that I had in place are TBD on whether they will be happening this year or just saved for next season, and I am still waiting on some video submissions. Unfortunately, my final European audition in the Czech Republic for Brno Ballet was cancelled, which was devastating after making it through the pre-screening process. However, I know that all this is out of my control, and I am just trying to stay in shape and optimistic, knowing that everything will end up working out, one way or another.

In a speech that Brené Brown gave to UT Austin’s graduating class, she discussed her career path and how, though all the hardships she faced, things ended up working out for her. She assured us that the same would happen for us, “But it will not be on your terms, and not on your timeline.” That really resonated with me, as this entire situation is not on my terms or my timeline, and a lot of my path has been the same way. However, just as the beginning of this year worked out for me despite all the obstacles I faced, I know that my professional career will work out, one way or another. The only thing I can do is everything I can: stay in shape, stay determined, and let my love of ballet fuel every step I make. In Frozen 2, Anna has a whole song revolving around the quote, “Do the next right thing.” I think that just about sums it up. I have not, and will not, be beaten down by this pandemic. Yes, things look different than I expected, but there hasn’t really been a time in my life when that wasn’t true. I am here to take on the life that has been thrown at me, and I am here to make the best of it. In the words of Lin Manuel Miranda, “I am not throwing away my shot.” Bring it on 2020. You haven’t knocked me down yet.

2019: age 20

This year I began my transition into the professional realm of the world I’ve loved since I can remember. A crazy year indeed, but a great one nonetheless. It began with me deciding at some point last year to condense my studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program into three years instead of four, so I doubled up on my dance classes. On top of that, I participated in every show! I was casted as the soloist in Melissa Bobick’s Fractured, which we took to California to compete in a choreographic competition in November. Then, I worked with two of my best friends in their student choreographic works, while simultaneously getting thrown into Michele Wiles’s company, BalletNext, to rehearse for my New York debut! I was also fortunate enough to be cast as a gossip girl in Bruce Mark’s version of La Fille Mal Gardée at the U. We rehearsed nonstop for this full-length experience, and it worked out great in the end!

The day after La Fille closed, I was on a plane to the Big Apple for a costume fitting, rehearsal, then a week of shows at New York Live Arts in Chelsea. It was an incredible experience as we were fortunate enough to share the bill with Amar Ramasar and Maria Kowroski. Being able to watch these two perform a duet as well as being able to perform in two of Michele’s own pieces in my favorite city was something that definitely will continue to shape me as a dancer. We ended up having another round of shows in upstate New York at Kaatsbaan, which was incredible, and I recently returned to the city to have another round of shows at the New Victory Theater on Broadway! Working with Michele has been amazing for me and has really changed the way I approach movement, especially with turning. I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has given her dancers.

Additionally, the week after we returned to Utah from New York the first time, my audition season began. I had five in-person auditions and sent videos to many! Got a lot of great feedback and even more great experience, and I am currently in Oklahoma City with OKCB to get further evaluated for a job with the company! This will be the deciding factor as to whether I return to the U in the fall, but no matter what, I just gotta keep pushing for it. Something I learned this year through everything is that a lot of auditioning is being in the right place at the right time, and that some seasons are just going to be harder to land a job than others, whether that’s because of look, availability, or anything else. It is a HUGE lottery, but the important thing for me is to just try to do my best at all times, and take the waves as they come! I will find my place in the professional world, be it this year or next. I just have to show myself to the world and follow the tides.

Another thing I did this year was participate in my first (and likely last) ballet competition! I competed two variations, Giselle Act I and Raymonda’s Daydreams, as well as my own choreographic contemporary piece, Ellipsis, in the American Ballet Competition in early June. I ended up placing third overall in the classical division and got a scholarship to attend a Bournonville workshop. It was a really great experience to work closely with Christopher Alloways-Ramsey, who is on faculty at the U. I balanced these intense classes and rehearsals with him with working with Michele, which was challenging but do-able, and totally worked out in the end.

I am so glad that I participated in everything that I did this year, and taking a second to sit and write it all out shows me that I am capable of so much, and need to continue to partake in everything I possibly can in an effort to know that I am doing everything I can to get to where I need to be. That’s all I can do, and it will be enough. I’ll never settle. In the words of Billy Joel, “Only fools are satisfied.” What a year it has been.

2018: age 19

Six years into this project, and dance is still my bread and butter. I’ve never loved something so much or been so passionately involved in anything, and I know that I’m in the world I’m meant to be in.

This year was my sophomore year at the University of Utah’s ballet program, and it was transformative to say the least. From the beginning, I was met with unexpected challenges, and I truly felt as though I grew the most I ever have in one year’s time. I was moved up to the senior ballet level as a sophomore, so not only was I challenged in technique, but I was also on my own, completely unfamiliar with my peers and the new teachers. Being thrown into this environment was at first a little jarring, but I quickly realized that it was a sink or swim situation, and I was determined to stay afloat. Being able to look up to my older peers and learn through example as well as through the wonderful staff, I was pushed to grow each and every class. I also switched pointe shoe brands from Gaynor Minden to Suffolk Solo Prequels, which changed a lot for me for the better.

I also did a lot of performing, taking on not only ballet department programs, but extra shows through the modern department as well! I performed in Konservatoriet in the fall, coached by Jeff Rogers at Ballet West, then participated in a modern grad show thesis, performed in Jay Kim’s faculty work while struggling with Achilles tendonitis, and finally was a part of Nicholas Gibas’ senior piece, which was an amazing experience. We had danced in Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge the year prior together, so it was truly an inspiration to work with him again. I also found a love for choreographing, and will be exploring this side of myself more. In the choreographic classes in which I participated, my work was met with praise and constructive criticism, so I hope to continue to seek growth, change and developments in this facet of dance. This summer, I will be attending American Ballet Theater’s ballet intensive in New York, as well as the University of Utah’s summer intensive to get some ballet BFA credits taken care of while also staying in shape for this upcoming crazy year.

Another development in my dance life is that I made the decision to audition for ballet companies this upcoming year! This potentially would mean graduating early, which I am currently on track to do, and beginning my ballet career next year. I am extremely terrified but simultaneously eager and excited to put myself out there. This has been a dream of mine for so long, and knowing that I am on the cusp of beginning that professional journey is thrilling. While I understand there is a lot of potential for failure, I know that I will not stop trying until I make it, and that failure is only fuel for the journey. I look forward to the year ahead, and all the years to come. Somehow, everything’s gonna fall right into place, and I cannot wait to be planted and begin blooming into the artist I seek to become.

2017: age 18

This past year has been one of the craziest and most exciting of my life! I started school at the University of Utah School of Dance as a ballet major, and was lucky enough to get to perform in every show! We did Les Sylphides in the fall, and I had a solo in a contemporary piece in the spring, alongside a duet in Stephen Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge in April.

I went through a lot of personal growth as well, realizing more and more that I am truly the only one who is in charge of where my life and dance career takes me. Though I cannot predict the future, all that matters is that my passion will never die and that my work ethic remains as strong as it can be. It is really nice to be supported by my faculty, and they give me valuable advice and corrections. They also gave me great feedback in conferences, and I look forward to continuing my time there, working toward my goals through my love of the art form.

I’m currently studying at American Ballet Theatre for the summer program, and have loved every moment. I think this would be my ideal place to dance when I’ve gotten older and better (fingers crossed), but I am keeping my options open, knowing that as long as I put my entirety into my endeavor, I will end up where I need to be. Lots of unknown, but I do know that I love what I’m doing, and that is enough.

2016: age 17

Dance for me has been a continual passion that I don’t ever think will cease. I have loved it for as long as I can remember and I will continue to love it with all of my being. I just graduated from Booker T Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, which was the best thing that has ever happened to me (the school, not leaving it). I am continuing my dance studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program where I hope to become a trainee with Ballet West. I am on the waiting list for Juilliard at this point in time, and though that is my dream school, I know that if I don’t get in in the end, I will have another good option waiting for me. I am currently studying at Joffrey Academy of Chicago for the summer, and I’m having a great time learning from all of the faculty as well as my classmates. I can only push forward and hope that all that I am doing is propelling me towards where I want and need to be.

2015: age 16

Dance is my soul’s way of getting out of my body. I have never felt freer or more alive than within the moments of movement that I am lucky enough to be able to do most days of my life. I am going into my senior year in high school at Booker T. Washington HSPVA, so I am dancing and growing every day. I am nervous about applying and auditioning for colleges, conservatories and companies this upcoming year. I hope for the best. I know I will end up where I am meant to be, and while that is in the back of my mind, the nervousness and anxiety is still present. I recently was Belle in my studio’s ballet production of Beauty and the Beast, which was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I truly had a fantastic time learning the part and being able to dance with my partner Paul again. I cannot wait to continue my passion for dance as long as I can, and I hope my career has just begun.

2014: age 15

Dance is my passion, and has been for as long as I can remember. I can’t see a time where it won’t be. I hope to be a professional one day, and am currently at a performing arts high school where I am pursuing a career. I hope to grow as much as I can every single day and know to be patient with myself as growing is a process, not a destination.

2013: age 14

Dance is my everything right now. I go to Booker T. Washington HSPVA for dance, and I hope that I will be able to have the wonderful opportunity of making it my career. I dream of dancing professionally, and I will do whatever it takes to make the dreams come true! Dance is my passion and has been for a long, long time and I never want to know what life is like without it.

The post Sydney: I Am Enough appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2022: age 23

Every time I get the email to participate in this wonderful project, I am blown away that yet another year has gone by. Will I ever be aware of the passing of time while I’m in it? Maybe, maybe not.

This year, like all the others, had its own specific brand of insanity. I taught 10 ballet classes, three privates, two nights of customer service, and danced full time, every week for the whole season. It was busy, it was often overwhelming, but it was ultimately rewarding and growth inducing.

Being an apprentice with Avant Chamber Ballet this past year was a lovely and demanding experience. I was in every show, and in one show was in every single piece in that show(!). We started the season off with Napoli and Ragtime, moved swiftly into Nutcracker and setting Concerto Barocco for the spring, had Barocco and a new ballet by the director alongside a returning work for our spring show, and closed the season with A Soldier’s Tale and Jeux, a ballet choreographed by Fernanda Olivera from Philadelphia Ballet. Needless to say, there was lots of dancing, lots of rehearsing, lots of performing. My favorite show was definitely the first spring performance. I was fortunate enough to be the only apprentice selected to be in the director’s new work, Bartok Duets, and had an absolute blast in both the process and the performance. Being in every piece, especially with Barocco opening the show, was a challenge but extremely satisfying to push through and ultimately enjoy. I felt myself push my own boundaries and improve artistically and technically throughout the year. I will be returning in the fall as a promoted second year apprentice, with weekly pay (!) and pay per performance. She’s on her way up in the professional world, folks! I am excited to continue my journey with the company and will be teaching some classes to little ones at ACB as well as at The Dallas Conservatory for supplemental income. Teaching has been a surprising joy and challenge, but I think there is definitely a future for me in that field.

It would be inauthentic for me to write this whole update without mentioning some hardship. This year has not been easy on me, mostly mentally. I have been struggling with high anxiety and some depressive side effects of that exhausting mindset, and it has been affecting my whole life, especially in the studio. On a good day, I was on top of the world and enjoying every moment. On a bad day, I questioned everything—my body, my abilities, my career, my future, my relationships, my desires. I’ve had anxiety throughout my life, but I think it has come out fully as of the new year.

I participated in a beautiful program, Yoga for Dancers, and a huge part of that was not only building physical strength for cross training health, but also diving deep into our psychological roadblocks and learning a lot about what makes you think the way you do, and what may be holding you back. That, alongside starting therapy to work through the grief and trauma of losing my father almost nine years ago, has opened me up in huge ways, allowing for healing, but the healing begins with the seeing and feeling, and I have been overwhelmed often with what I’ve found, new and old. I’m working through these cycles of feeling, and know that navigating these challenges will be a lifelong experience that will evolve and shift as I do, and hope that I will find more self-love and confidence on that journey.

Dance has yet again proved itself to be my first love, and like any love, there are ups and downs and fluctuations that I am trying to embrace and not shy away from. These struggles and triumphs are informing my artistic growth and trajectory, and I need to remind myself that this path is none but my own, and I need to own that and dive deep into it, holding tight to my intention and passion in this world I have planted myself in.

P.S. I miss contemporary movement. I am still in love with ballet, and I cannot imagine hanging up my pointe shoes, but I do miss moving in that way and hope that I can find a dance home in the future that can satiate my artistic hunger in a fuller way. I am happy at ACB, but something tells me it isn’t my end all be all for my career, and I need to trust in myself and in the universe to guide me to whatever my next steps may be, whenever that change will be made.

Photo by Sean Sullivan

2021: age 22

I am continuously amazed by how unexpectedly life unfolds at every turn. At almost any moment in my life, you could ask me, “Is this how you thought life would be a year ago?” And I would laugh and say, “Absolutely not!” And yet, there has been beauty in every moment, despite any and all hardship or trial, and I hold nothing but gratitude for the path I have been on and the path I am forging for myself.

When I was writing my yearly reflection last June, I was taking ballet classes in my living room with a makeshift piece of dance floor and a barre for one. I was awaiting my trip to Chicago to dance with A&A Ballet and see if I would be hired into their company. Oooooh how the tables turned, and how quickly as well! On my first day at A&A, I looked around and realized I was, quite noticeably, the oldest in the room. I turned to one of my classmates and asked her if this demographic was normal, or if it was a result the pandemic. She replied that this past year, there was one girl over the age of 20, but otherwise this was normal.

I, a seasoned 21-year-old at the time, was startled by this revelation. I pressed on, “So how does the company work, is it separate from this program or…?” and she calmly replied, “Oh, we don’t really have a company here.”

BOOM. That was the sound of my heart dropping through the floor. After the pandemic had robbed me of not only my last few months of college, but also my audition season and the beginning of my career, my last hope had just vanished before I even took my first class. I decided to stay calm and simply enjoy being in a studio again, doing what I loved, in a city that I loved, for the next month.

Despite those comforting thoughts, I couldn’t help but start to plan Mission Impossible: Figure My Life Out Amidst Global Pandemic as a Dancer. I decided I needed three things to survive at the present moment: a place to live, a place to dance, and a source of income. I’m a list person, so this actually helped me put things into perspective. I had a couple of options. I could’ve stayed in Chicago and paid to dance with A&A, I could’ve moved back to Utah and figured things out, or I could’ve moved home. After more lists and comparisons, the only option that made sense overall was moving home. That covered the first necessity: a place to live. Income was also covered, as I had been working as a barista and had also been offered a nannying sort of position by a family friend, so check off box number two.

But the most important box, a place to dance, was still muggy. I began sending out even more auditions for dance positions in companies in Dallas. I had never anticipated moving home before this point, so I had not really considered the local companies yet. I also was considering paying for dance classes at night to maintain my technique while I lived at home and saved up money to be a normal human once this all faded away. The last week of A&A arrived, and besides Alexei offering me a position in their training program in Chicago (for about $1000 a month, sheesh), my inbox was empty of offers or replies. I was starting to feel the weight of the unknown and the weight of the pandemic’s losses hitting me.

And then, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, I received a call from Avant Chamber Ballet’s artistic director offering me a full tuition scholarship to be a trainee.

Box. Number. Three.

I was elated. Out of nowhere, when I had felt the most lost, things had fallen into place, and even better than I had hoped. Not only did I have a spot to dance, but it was with a real company, and I was valued enough to be offered a scholarship. It was official: my career had begun. I was going to be just fine.

I came home from Chicago a literal TWO DAYS before my time with Avant began, but was ready to start my next adventure. I, a dancer who had never really had Balanchine training, dove headfirst into a Balanchine company, and adapted accordingly. One of my favorite things about ACB is that although a lot of their repertory is Balanchine or neoclassical, a wide range of styles is practiced, both in technique classes and in performance. I was able to add another tool to my tool belt in getting comfortable with Balanchine movement, while also maintaining my classical training. Even further, we performed a contemporary work by one of my old Booker T. classmates, Madison Hicks. Talk about full circle.

We were lucky enough to be able to perform at an outdoor stage, right next to Booker T. in the arts district. It was a beautiful performing environment and gave us the opportunity to perform during an era of empty stages. We had a set of performances in October, filmed Nutcracker for an online viewing, and had another set of performances in March. As a trainee, I was asked to perform with the company in all these shows but was also a part of trainee-specific performances at a couple of venues between and after company shows! I also feel like my technique has grown a lot with ACB. Eugene and Katie have helped me so much to push beyond my self-created boundaries, finding new potential and fostering new abilities I had not known myself capable of prior to being in this environment. As always, the goal for me is to grow and experience, and I got that and then some, all thanks to the miracle Katie gifted me with last August.

Also! Just to clarify: box number 2, income, was happily replaced by teaching dance after rehearsals and working front desk for the studio as well. Being a barista was fun, but sharing dance was definitely an upgrade. I also started teaching private lessons as well, which is a whole new level of rewarding.

Our season at ACB ended a couple of weeks ago, and it was announced that I was offered a first-year company contract as an apprentice with ACB, and I happily accepted. I am so grateful to be a part of Avant Chamber Ballet, and I look forward to continuing my journey here.

I think ultimately, looking forward, I would like to be in a bigger company, in a city I don’t know so well, dancing Wheeldon, Cerrudo, and Kylian amongst the classics. I know I am on track to where I long to be. And I’m just going to trust that all my efforts and all the love that I have for this art form are going to carry me forward, and that the universe will plant me where I will grow the tallest. If there’s anything I have learned from the past year, it’s that I cannot plan each and every step, because things are constantly inconsistent. All I can do is go forward with love and kindness in every intention and know that my path will become clear in time.

As for the present, I think it’s time for a snack.

2020: age 21

Oh, what a year this has been. It was a year of extreme highs, lows, and unexpected blows. From the very beginning of the school year, it was unusual for me. For starters, it was my last year of college! I had finished my degree the year before and was uncertain whether I was going to return for my fourth year. That summer, I had received an offer from Oklahoma City Ballet to be a trainee but, seeing as it was more of a training program than a job, I decided to return to the University of Utah in the fall. After speaking with my mentors, it seemed like the better option, especially because I was on full tuition scholarship at the U and would have had to pay for the traineeship.

It was my fourth year, and my (second) senior year! I was excited, I was riding the high of performing on Broadway with BalletNext, and I was in the best shape of my life, going to the gym, taking yoga classes, and dancing all throughout the summer so I would be at my best.

And then…I HAMMERED MY FREAKING FINGER. Yes, you read correctly. Hammered it. I was doing work in the garage with my mom, and literally slammed my finger with a rubber mallet so hard that the tendon on my left index finger completely lacerated (a super gross medical word I learned – it literally just means torn-clean-through. Yuck.). I had to get surgery immediately and was told that I wouldn’t be able to exercise or do anything that would produce sweat for SIX WEEKS. Obviously, to a dancer, especially one who had worked her butt off all summer to stay in tip-top shape, that was basically a death sentence. I was bawling in the doctor’s office, feeling as though I was witnessing every dream for this year fade away.

I drove back to Utah with my mom, knowing that everything was going to be different. After all, if I couldn’t even dance as a Ballet Major, what the heck was I supposed to do? About a week being back, I went to see my physical therapist they had assigned to me, and my world completely changed.

“What do you mean they said you can’t sweat? Of course you can. Just keep your brace on, and don’t be an idiot.”

“You mean I can dance?”

“Yes, go for it.”

WOOOOOOHOOOOOO! Once I got the green light to MOVE again, I was on a mission. After two weeks of completely no dancing, I was ready to get back into it, no matter how weird it was going to be. I took barre without ever actually holding the barre for about two months and made the most of the experience. Was it hard? UM, YES. But! I grew so much as a result of that body awareness. Life was hard one-handed, believe me, but I made it work as best as I could, and I made it out the other side with a lot more core strength!

During all that insanity, we also had auditions for the fall show, which included Act II of my favorite ballet of all time, Giselle. I was forlorn at the complication that my tendon and massive splint brought for auditions, but not hopeless. I was going to try my best and hope that the faculty could see that I would be healed in about a month’s time, which would be about a month or so from opening night. And I could still dance fully as long as there were no barres involved, so I figured it was worth a shot. During auditions, I was cut from the contemporary audition, as there was too much floor work and partnering for me to be able to do it with my healing injury. I was extremely upset but knew that didn’t necessarily mean I wouldn’t be considered for the ballet. And then, a couple days later, I got cast as the lead. My dream role was finally being realized. I was Giselle in Giselle. WHAT. I genuinely couldn’t believe it!

The rehearsal process was a dream. I have never felt so invested in a role, so immersed in the character and choreography, so in love with ballet. I worked hard and enjoyed every single second of it. The shows went well, and I can say with all certainty that it was the greatest performing experience of my life to date.

After Giselle, it was November! My splint had been off for about two months, and life was busy and back to normal. We began rehearsing for the next show, and I was choreographing a piece for the Ballet Student Showcase. I started to film all my audition materials, and began audition season in November, as I was looking to do European auditions as well as American ones. Things were busy, but things were good! I got into Grand Audition, which essentially is a massive audition with eight companies all viewing invited dancers at once. This year, it was in Barcelona! My mom and I booked the flights, and that was the first thing in the books for the season. I sent more emails than I have ever sent in my life. I sent my videos to every company I could find, abroad or not. My life was spread sheets, cover letters, resumes, CVs, headshots, and dance photos for like six months! I heard back from a lot of places, and got invited to do two other auditions in Europe, as well as multiple company class and invite-only auditions in the States, and was having so much fun traveling and dancing, chasing my dreams all the while.

And then, COVID-19 hit. And it hit hard. On March 16, I attended an audition at Richmond Ballet, and felt fantastic about how it went. Little did I know that audition would be my last of the season, and the last time I would be dancing in a studio for the indeterminable future. By the time I flew back to Utah, the rest of my senior year was put online, and we were under a worldwide lockdown for the pandemic. It was surreal, and honestly still is.

I began to give myself class in the kitchen, using my countertop as a barre, and doing as much center work as I possibly could. I was even doing pointe on a hardwood floor, being as careful as I could be, and trying, desperately, to stay in shape. In April, my mom flew out to Utah, we packed up my car, and we drove back home to Texas to be together during these uncertain times. I was devastated to leave my home of four years, my best friend and roommate, and my boyfriend. But the one perk? I got to make a little personal dance studio in my house! My mom ordered me a barre as a graduation gift, we bought some shower-pan liner to tape down as a floor, and we moved the furniture out of the way. I was open for business!

For the past few months, I have been training hard six days a week, and have even been able to do complete classes on pointe, thanks to my floor! It has certainly not been what I planned, with graduation being virtually online, finishing out all my classes on Zoom, and dancing in my living room, but I have made the best of it and am honestly proud of myself. I have gained so much awareness of my alignment and feel as though I have been able to grow as a dancer during quarantine, thanks to lots of online ballet class videos, lots of self-correcting, and lots of notetaking. By being forced to really be in-tune with my body, I have found that I am balancing better, turning better, and altogether more aware of what I need to do to improve. I have been doing workout classes, using ankle weights, and have been doing lots of Thera-Band exercises, Pilates, and yoga to make sure that I am in the best shape I can be during these insane conditions. I feel like I am staying in shape well, and have not lost any technique besides grand allegro, since I really can’t do that inside my house. It has been really encouraging to see that I am able to be disciplined on my own, and I am grateful that I have that as an artist.

Looking forward, it’s really hard to say what’s going to happen. For me, for a lot of people, life is kind of in limbo. I am going to be attending a small dance intensive in Chicago with A&A Ballet, which will be an audition to be considered for their main company, and that’s all I have planned for the time being. I sent them my materials during the year, and they expressed interest, but said they could only offer me a paid position after working with me, and it just so happened that they didn’t cancel their program. Safety measures will be in place, but soon, I’ll be in a studio again, and I couldn’t be more excited. Besides that, the cancelled auditions that I had in place are TBD on whether they will be happening this year or just saved for next season, and I am still waiting on some video submissions. Unfortunately, my final European audition in the Czech Republic for Brno Ballet was cancelled, which was devastating after making it through the pre-screening process. However, I know that all this is out of my control, and I am just trying to stay in shape and optimistic, knowing that everything will end up working out, one way or another.

In a speech that Brené Brown gave to UT Austin’s graduating class, she discussed her career path and how, though all the hardships she faced, things ended up working out for her. She assured us that the same would happen for us, “But it will not be on your terms, and not on your timeline.” That really resonated with me, as this entire situation is not on my terms or my timeline, and a lot of my path has been the same way. However, just as the beginning of this year worked out for me despite all the obstacles I faced, I know that my professional career will work out, one way or another. The only thing I can do is everything I can: stay in shape, stay determined, and let my love of ballet fuel every step I make. In Frozen 2, Anna has a whole song revolving around the quote, “Do the next right thing.” I think that just about sums it up. I have not, and will not, be beaten down by this pandemic. Yes, things look different than I expected, but there hasn’t really been a time in my life when that wasn’t true. I am here to take on the life that has been thrown at me, and I am here to make the best of it. In the words of Lin Manuel Miranda, “I am not throwing away my shot.” Bring it on 2020. You haven’t knocked me down yet.

2019: age 20

This year I began my transition into the professional realm of the world I’ve loved since I can remember. A crazy year indeed, but a great one nonetheless. It began with me deciding at some point last year to condense my studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program into three years instead of four, so I doubled up on my dance classes. On top of that, I participated in every show! I was casted as the soloist in Melissa Bobick’s Fractured, which we took to California to compete in a choreographic competition in November. Then, I worked with two of my best friends in their student choreographic works, while simultaneously getting thrown into Michele Wiles’s company, BalletNext, to rehearse for my New York debut! I was also fortunate enough to be cast as a gossip girl in Bruce Mark’s version of La Fille Mal Gardée at the U. We rehearsed nonstop for this full-length experience, and it worked out great in the end!

The day after La Fille closed, I was on a plane to the Big Apple for a costume fitting, rehearsal, then a week of shows at New York Live Arts in Chelsea. It was an incredible experience as we were fortunate enough to share the bill with Amar Ramasar and Maria Kowroski. Being able to watch these two perform a duet as well as being able to perform in two of Michele’s own pieces in my favorite city was something that definitely will continue to shape me as a dancer. We ended up having another round of shows in upstate New York at Kaatsbaan, which was incredible, and I recently returned to the city to have another round of shows at the New Victory Theater on Broadway! Working with Michele has been amazing for me and has really changed the way I approach movement, especially with turning. I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has given her dancers.

Additionally, the week after we returned to Utah from New York the first time, my audition season began. I had five in-person auditions and sent videos to many! Got a lot of great feedback and even more great experience, and I am currently in Oklahoma City with OKCB to get further evaluated for a job with the company! This will be the deciding factor as to whether I return to the U in the fall, but no matter what, I just gotta keep pushing for it. Something I learned this year through everything is that a lot of auditioning is being in the right place at the right time, and that some seasons are just going to be harder to land a job than others, whether that’s because of look, availability, or anything else. It is a HUGE lottery, but the important thing for me is to just try to do my best at all times, and take the waves as they come! I will find my place in the professional world, be it this year or next. I just have to show myself to the world and follow the tides.

Another thing I did this year was participate in my first (and likely last) ballet competition! I competed two variations, Giselle Act I and Raymonda’s Daydreams, as well as my own choreographic contemporary piece, Ellipsis, in the American Ballet Competition in early June. I ended up placing third overall in the classical division and got a scholarship to attend a Bournonville workshop. It was a really great experience to work closely with Christopher Alloways-Ramsey, who is on faculty at the U. I balanced these intense classes and rehearsals with him with working with Michele, which was challenging but do-able, and totally worked out in the end.

I am so glad that I participated in everything that I did this year, and taking a second to sit and write it all out shows me that I am capable of so much, and need to continue to partake in everything I possibly can in an effort to know that I am doing everything I can to get to where I need to be. That’s all I can do, and it will be enough. I’ll never settle. In the words of Billy Joel, “Only fools are satisfied.” What a year it has been.

2018: age 19

Six years into this project, and dance is still my bread and butter. I’ve never loved something so much or been so passionately involved in anything, and I know that I’m in the world I’m meant to be in.

This year was my sophomore year at the University of Utah’s ballet program, and it was transformative to say the least. From the beginning, I was met with unexpected challenges, and I truly felt as though I grew the most I ever have in one year’s time. I was moved up to the senior ballet level as a sophomore, so not only was I challenged in technique, but I was also on my own, completely unfamiliar with my peers and the new teachers. Being thrown into this environment was at first a little jarring, but I quickly realized that it was a sink or swim situation, and I was determined to stay afloat. Being able to look up to my older peers and learn through example as well as through the wonderful staff, I was pushed to grow each and every class. I also switched pointe shoe brands from Gaynor Minden to Suffolk Solo Prequels, which changed a lot for me for the better.

I also did a lot of performing, taking on not only ballet department programs, but extra shows through the modern department as well! I performed in Konservatoriet in the fall, coached by Jeff Rogers at Ballet West, then participated in a modern grad show thesis, performed in Jay Kim’s faculty work while struggling with Achilles tendonitis, and finally was a part of Nicholas Gibas’ senior piece, which was an amazing experience. We had danced in Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge the year prior together, so it was truly an inspiration to work with him again. I also found a love for choreographing, and will be exploring this side of myself more. In the choreographic classes in which I participated, my work was met with praise and constructive criticism, so I hope to continue to seek growth, change and developments in this facet of dance. This summer, I will be attending American Ballet Theater’s ballet intensive in New York, as well as the University of Utah’s summer intensive to get some ballet BFA credits taken care of while also staying in shape for this upcoming crazy year.

Another development in my dance life is that I made the decision to audition for ballet companies this upcoming year! This potentially would mean graduating early, which I am currently on track to do, and beginning my ballet career next year. I am extremely terrified but simultaneously eager and excited to put myself out there. This has been a dream of mine for so long, and knowing that I am on the cusp of beginning that professional journey is thrilling. While I understand there is a lot of potential for failure, I know that I will not stop trying until I make it, and that failure is only fuel for the journey. I look forward to the year ahead, and all the years to come. Somehow, everything’s gonna fall right into place, and I cannot wait to be planted and begin blooming into the artist I seek to become.

2017: age 18

This past year has been one of the craziest and most exciting of my life! I started school at the University of Utah School of Dance as a ballet major, and was lucky enough to get to perform in every show! We did Les Sylphides in the fall, and I had a solo in a contemporary piece in the spring, alongside a duet in Stephen Petronio’s MiddleSexGorge in April.

I went through a lot of personal growth as well, realizing more and more that I am truly the only one who is in charge of where my life and dance career takes me. Though I cannot predict the future, all that matters is that my passion will never die and that my work ethic remains as strong as it can be. It is really nice to be supported by my faculty, and they give me valuable advice and corrections. They also gave me great feedback in conferences, and I look forward to continuing my time there, working toward my goals through my love of the art form.

I’m currently studying at American Ballet Theatre for the summer program, and have loved every moment. I think this would be my ideal place to dance when I’ve gotten older and better (fingers crossed), but I am keeping my options open, knowing that as long as I put my entirety into my endeavor, I will end up where I need to be. Lots of unknown, but I do know that I love what I’m doing, and that is enough.

2016: age 17

Dance for me has been a continual passion that I don’t ever think will cease. I have loved it for as long as I can remember and I will continue to love it with all of my being. I just graduated from Booker T Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, which was the best thing that has ever happened to me (the school, not leaving it). I am continuing my dance studies at the University of Utah’s ballet program where I hope to become a trainee with Ballet West. I am on the waiting list for Juilliard at this point in time, and though that is my dream school, I know that if I don’t get in in the end, I will have another good option waiting for me. I am currently studying at Joffrey Academy of Chicago for the summer, and I’m having a great time learning from all of the faculty as well as my classmates. I can only push forward and hope that all that I am doing is propelling me towards where I want and need to be.

2015: age 16

Dance is my soul’s way of getting out of my body. I have never felt freer or more alive than within the moments of movement that I am lucky enough to be able to do most days of my life. I am going into my senior year in high school at Booker T. Washington HSPVA, so I am dancing and growing every day. I am nervous about applying and auditioning for colleges, conservatories and companies this upcoming year. I hope for the best. I know I will end up where I am meant to be, and while that is in the back of my mind, the nervousness and anxiety is still present. I recently was Belle in my studio’s ballet production of Beauty and the Beast, which was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I truly had a fantastic time learning the part and being able to dance with my partner Paul again. I cannot wait to continue my passion for dance as long as I can, and I hope my career has just begun.

2014: age 15

Dance is my passion, and has been for as long as I can remember. I can’t see a time where it won’t be. I hope to be a professional one day, and am currently at a performing arts high school where I am pursuing a career. I hope to grow as much as I can every single day and know to be patient with myself as growing is a process, not a destination.

2013: age 14

Dance is my everything right now. I go to Booker T. Washington HSPVA for dance, and I hope that I will be able to have the wonderful opportunity of making it my career. I dream of dancing professionally, and I will do whatever it takes to make the dreams come true! Dance is my passion and has been for a long, long time and I never want to know what life is like without it.

The post Syndey: Struggles and Triumphs appeared first on Stance on Dance.

2022: age 24

It’s been 10 years since I first came to the Bay Area. After spending many spotted seasons in between here, Seattle, and wherever else in the world I was, I finally made the choice to return and plant myself in this quintessential creative metropolis. I was very particular about this decision; I felt that out of any city in the world, this was the one I could see myself rooting into, one that would allow me to grow artistically and professionally while fulfilling the many other realms that encompass my life. I didn’t expect much to happen in this first year back. I was expecting myself to immerse slowly, quietly. But after almost two years of isolation (and living room dancing, which is great, but damn. s p a c e), my desire to be deeply involved in the diverse creative communities that this city boasts became so engulfing that it took on a whole path of its own.

Last spring, I was honored to work with dance filmmaker Conni McKenzie and sound designer Jaime Serra dos Santos on our first ever commissioned dance film, Lungs of the Earth, which premiered in April for USF’s Performing Arts & Social Justice 20th anniversary festival. In the midst of lockdown, we hustled over six weeks of intense Zoom rehearsals, late-night brainstorming calls, and an intense four-hour film take to create what is now a hybrid exploration of the social-political inferno and environmental crisis consuming the Amazon region of Brazil and its Indigenous communities. This all-consuming process was invigorating and exhausting, giving me a first glimpse into what a professional life as an artist might look like. I liked it.

The following months we were invited to participate in a few panel discussions as part of USF’s Thacher Art Gallery Fall 2021 Exhibition All that you touch. As a first time presenting artist alongside these incredible mid-career (and environmentally-focused) artists, the conversations of our creative output really cemented the role and responsibility I wanted to take in making socially-engaged work that extends beyond the screen or stage. There must be more to this than just the performance. I felt strongly that there was so much more to dig into within this work, not just the piece itself, but the granular details surrounding it that came from hours of researching and conceptualizing brutal facts and realities that inspired the piece. People must not walk-away only having seen something; they must also be filled with reactions, curiosities, disturbances, and ideally, a desire to do something about it. My dance practice is not just one of artistic expression or physical movement; it is a social responsibility to create, a political act that requires more of me than just my body. It requires every part of my brain and heart to be in congruent action; all my creative and critical thinking in concert; my acceptance and refusal of what is; my pure existence and whole participation in the human experience. I just could not look at dance so simply anymore, I needed more from it.

This is when things started to shift.

Most of last year was a balancing act between this half-artist, half-9-to-5 lifestyle I was maintaining. Echoes of scarcity mentality and professional projections (from myself and others) made me hesitant to ever consider a fully independent freelance lifestyle. It’s too risky, the economy, the pandemic, etc. It took quitting three jobs and moving three times (third times the charm, right?) for me to realize that by effect, regardless of if I was ready or not, I was becoming that independent freelance artist. At the start of the new year, I was contracted to perform with Kinetech Arts and Lenora Lee Dance, co-facilitating workshops with my dear friend and mentor Jennifer Bury (a DSP Certified Movement Therapist), managing the Community Engagement Residency with Bridge Live Arts, and taking on client work as independent contractor for small arts organizations. There was no choice but to “take the leap” and fully commit to the projects and people that were making this lifestyle possible for me. And once I did, which was incredibly freeing and terrifying, I was reminded of what I felt so strongly earlier: I needed more from it. I needed dance to engulf me completely. I needed to give it all my existence and participation, in every way I am capable of, onstage and off. It is with pure gratitude that I have found myself in this position, where dance is now something I can professionally pursue and sustain myself with while getting to engage in excitingly different, coexisting parts of the field.

Right now, to maintain this active part of my life, it feels pertinent to employ the practice of artistic discipline, commitment, and patience throughout the processes and work I’m a part of. There have been many beautiful developments and surprising moments this year, and yet that deeper craving for something beyond the limitations of dance as performance, as product, remains. I aim to continue pushing my capacity for deeper meaning and impact beyond the confines of a studio, theater, or any designated space for that matter. I want to research, observe, and conceptualize the movements in the fabric of our society; our problems; our dreams; our complicated and undeniably interwoven lives until there is something physically shifting in and around me. It feels inevitable that my work will constantly challenge the parameters and functions of this field, because I’m not satisfied with the status quo. There is more to this than what we see. And wherever that leads me next, that’s the path I’m going on.

My website: felicitasfischer.crd.co

Artists For Justice: www.artists-for-justice.com

Photo courtesy of the artist

2021: age 23

Over the past year, dance has become even more of a deeply intimate and sacred practice of mine; more than I’ve ever imagined it could be. As the world fell apart – both the one around me and the one I had carefully self-constructed – it was the only thing I could return to day after day to deal with the incessant pain, sadness, suffering, grief, disappointment, fury, devastation, fear, and unwelcomed trauma that barged into my life without hesitation or mercy. Like many others, the confinement to a singular space and prolonged social isolation revealed the truth about my mental and emotional stability, making dance not just a preferred method of coping, but essential to my sanity if I were to make it through. Dance became my primary source of healing amidst the pain I witnessed, caused, and experienced in the year 2020.

What once were empty holes of my studio apartment quickly became discovery spots to find new ways of moving, grooving, feeling, existing, and being amongst the uncomfortable; the harrowing; the heartbreaking. Hot tears that collapsed on the floor were met with steady feet, grounding firmly through each metatarsal and muscle. Deep sighs shakily released from my lungs were caught by soft subtle hand gestures, grasping the thin air around me. Pounding headaches and clenched jaws turned into swinging arms and spinal releases. Tense shoulders became ten different ways to twist and turn around my furniture (without knocking things over). Heavy eyelids became hips hips hips gyrating, shaking, sashaying, swaying. It was the saddest, most liberating dance party of one, for one, and no one else.

This daily practice of returning to dance with my head and heart weak taught me how to find healing in myself, in my movement, despite the most calamitous circumstances. My 10 x 10 ft. space may have been small, but dance teleported me to an expansive state where I could feel everything to its fullest extent. It gave me new kinesthetic vocabulary to express myself without filtering, downplaying, or masking the severity and depth of my experiences. It gave me moments of much needed relief and joy when there was so little. Approaching dance through this therapeutic lens transformed the way I understood the practice, not just as a performative act or artistic technique, but as a powerful healing method with untapped potential. I’ve come to see dance as a portal to the most vulnerable and real parts of myself. Its transcending power can reveal such deeply hidden, hurting, and raw wounds that often manifest themselves out in the real world, adding to the chaos that already exists. But by letting dance take us to those places, those dark tender places, and exploring the potentiality of movement as a healing practice, we might be able to find healing in ourselves in ways we could have never imagined.

This is what gave me the strength and courage to make certain strides in my career, my practice, and my personal life after a year like 2020. Since then, I moved back to the Bay Area; choreographed my first commissioned piece; joined a local studio as a new instructor and admin; revamped the Artists For Justice collective and launched our first merch line; reconnected with friends and mentors who have deeply impacted my dance journey; and reentered the dance community with excitement of finally, finally taking class again. There is so much yet to discover about my relationship to dance and how it continues to shape my life, but I will always remember this past year as one of the most formative to my understanding of dance as an intrinsic form of human expression, and therefore also, healing.

2020: age 22

Around this time last year, the triumphant feeling of graduating with a BA in Performing Arts & Social Justice (PASJ) had just started wearing off as I lay down on an airport bench in Lima, Peru. Flashing memories of the last bow onstage; an encouraging comment made in passing; my professor’s sweet smile as I grabbed that costly piece of paper – it was a peak among many valleys that was etched in my memory as one of the biggest accomplishments of my life, but left me with bittersweet affection. As much as I was heartbroken to leave the established (and incredibly supportive) network of creative peers, professors, and mentors who transformed my understanding of dance in academia and the socio-political realm, I felt so plugged in to the safety net of a private, aristocratic university that I lost touch with the real world I had seen before. So, I moved to Argentina, where it all began.

A city brimming with creative energy, Buenos Aires was a place of artistic awakening for me. It’s unique heartbeat of social activism mixed with the diverse talents of artistas urbanos make for daily extemporaneous live performance and public artwork that cleverly layers in social political commentary and redefines Argentinian culture, history, and identity in the 21^st century. The migrant musician bouncing from one subway train to another is not just playing any set of songs; two young males swiveling in the plaza are not just dancing another tango; the graffiti artist enlivening the brick and concrete of a villa is not just creating any mural – they are exemplifying the inseparable connectivity of art and advocacy, poetry and politics, movement and mobilization, a quartet and a quarantine. As I watched their creative play pop up throughout the city, I began to admire, and somewhat envy, the way they fearlessly claimed and displayed their artistry (without needing a degree from a second-tier university to do so). I observed the way they used their art for social change and advocacy more often than for staged performance or acclaim. I watched them return to the same spots every day with the same relentless creative energy, regardless of if people stopped for them. I started to question: what does it mean to be an artist in a world that demarcates “street-art” from real art, valued art, celebrated art, stage worthy art? Who decides what art gets noticed, praised, covered by the media, and funded? How has the artistic world developed its own hierarchical and bureaucratic processes of what it means to be an established and esteemed artist?

That costly piece of paper was staring back at me now, asking me the very question I had been chasing though years of dedicated dance training, taking on performance opportunities, fervently signing up for intensives and workshops, and even pursuing a degree in Dance – what does it mean to be a dancer?

Does it mean taking four to five technique classes a week? Does it mean becoming fluent in Labanotation or getting certified in a variety of movement practices? Is it dutifully preparing for and participating in the competitive audition season for a spot in a company? What about being fully immersed in the dance community with your hands in multiple projects at a time? It is performing for the sake of being seen? Is it a degree that claims you completed a set of curricula laid out by other experienced dance educators, choreographers, and academics? Is it participating in this achievement-centered social construct built on having years of high-quality training, impressive physicality, renowned company status, diligent performance record, or expertise in the academic dance field? Are these the things that define a dancer?

From what I’ve seen in my 17 years of navigating the dance world, the road to “success” seems to be paved by the pursuit of these questions. But here, the road is no longer made of clean-cut marley or sprung floors; it is made out of dirt and stone, scattered with greenery and waste, a crooked pathway leading to an open clearing tucked away in the folds of the earth with nothing but some trees and a few sleeping dogs nearby. And yet, people still gather to sing, dance, and play.

My time in Argentina reminded me what it means to be a dancer in the simplest form. It is a way of relating to; we see the world through movement and understand our relationship to the external through our inner and outer sense of physicality. It is a way of being with; being flexible with our minds, bodies, and hearts as we navigate the world and its shifting realities. It is a way of sensing; we feel the world and we feel how it moves us. It is a way of communicating; we speak this kinesthetic language, often because official languages lack the verbiage we seek to express the most undefinable human experiences.

I brought this reminder with me when I moved back to Seattle in January. As soon as the pandemic hit, I saw it as a universal sign to return to that simple form of dance; one that requires no internet, no Instagram live classes, no virtual dance jams – just me, my body and space. Despite the challenges the pandemic presents, I’ve been cherishing these last few months of physical introversion, of returning to myself. It feels like a homecoming – to my body, to my relationship with movement. It feels like dancing in an open clearing with nothing but the trees and sleeping dogs nearby, except it’s my living room and my dog is watching me curiously from the couch. The pandemic has brought us all home, literally and figuratively, which we all might need as a reminder that our artistic craft is not dependent on our achievements or external pursuits within the dance world. It is within ourselves and is waiting for us to come home.

2019: age 21

This past May, I graduated from the University of San Francisco with a BA in Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance. Don’t worry – I’m still trying to figure out what that means too. Besides coming to appreciate the academic rigor of dance, this program provided me with the most demanding and intimate experience of physical training, choreographic processes, and artistic-development within myself. Between dance classes and late-night rehearsals, I had several “aha” moments that reaffirmed that this was exactly what I want to be doing. Long gone are the days of wondering whether I am meant for this kind of work; now it’s a matter of figuring out how to pursue dance as a career and a life-long practice while continuing to explore the complexity and intricacy of what it means to be a dancer.

This was also the first year that I created original work and presented it to the public. Stepping into the choreographer’s shoes was an incredibly humbling experience in which I realized how enigmatic yet self-revealing the choreographic process truly is. Albeit the hours of corporal investigation, choreographic experimentation, and surely some mental tribulation, by the time we performed onstage, the piece evolved into something beyond ourselves, something we couldn’t have expected; it became its own entity, we were just there to embody it. As someone who had never created a 10-minute piece involving other dancers or even basic lighting cues, I quickly learned that the power to create was a responsibility that needed to be met with equal parts curiosity, receptivity and consistency. Like a child, creativity needs room to grow, play, rest, make messes, throw tantrums, experiment, and discover meaning for itself. Once I accepted this and realized I couldn’t squeeze the life out of creativity to give me exactly what I wanted, I finally felt an indescribable guidance that led me from one choreographic solution to the next. The more I trusted in it, the more it revealed its true nature and meaning to me, rather than me imposing onto it what it should mean and should be. By the end of our process, the initial ideas that first gave traction were no longer paramount. What was more important was putting real stuff onstage, regardless of if it was choreographically compelling, conceptually brilliant, or visually pleasing. This is how I want to define my work: not by its complexity, but by its authenticity.

Now, I am living in Buenos Aires. I decided to move here after graduation for personal reasons, mostly to be with myself in a new context so that I could discover more of who I am, what I am curious about, and how I want to exist in the world. As far as dance goes, I trust that it will continue guiding me as it always has, leading me from one phase of life to the next. Part of me is wondering what other realms of dance I have not yet entered, what rhythms and motions I have yet to discover, which communities and individuals I might meet. That being said, I have no expectations of what my experience in Argentina will look like and I prefer it surprises me. Like the creative process, life is enigmatic and self-revealing in its own ways. I just have to trust it – messes, tantrums, discoveries and all.

2018: age 20

I am entering my final year at the University of San Francisco, where I study Performing Arts & Social Justice. I remember how terrifying it was to transition to this major given that I had a lot of insecurity and doubts about pursuing a career in the arts. However, the inspiration and fulfillment I receive from my supportive group of peers and faculty have secured my decision that this is where I belong. This past semester has re-opened doors for me in terms of artistic collaborations, performance opportunities, and work experiences guiding me towards a future I’ve always wanted but didn’t believe was possible; I am overwhelmed by the vast range of possibilities for a career in the arts. Needless to say, I am eager to move forward with this path and infuse my greatest passions into the work I do here at USF and elsewhere.

What I’ve learned throughout the year is that dance serves a much greater purpose than just a technical art-form staged for performance. It serves as a model for education, a form of socio-political commentary, a therapy for healing the emotional body, a bonding experience between strangers, and a way of establishing oneself in relationship to others. Surely, there are plenty more purposes for dance, but these have been an integral part of my experience over the past year and have shown me that dance can be as powerful off-stage as it is onstage. A lot of my time in school is spent discussing and investigating this off-stage aspect of dance: How can we use creative movements to conceptualize academic curriculum? How do politics and societal issues manifest in our movements? How and where does the body hold onto emotions? What do our gestural and habitual patterns of movement tell a story about what’s going on around us? For me, these questions bring up the more interesting aspects of dance: relational, societal, and emotional ways of relaying and interpreting movement. I am interested in how these aspects are interconnected and how they can help us understand the world through dance and movement.

Aside from that, I am currently working with Jennifer Bury, a movement therapist in San Francisco, from whom I hope to learn about the functions and practices of somatic-psychotherapy through Gestalt therapy, Bartenieff Fundamentals, and Body-Mind Centering. She and I are currently working towards creating a workshop together that will take place here in San Francisco during the fall. In the meantime, I am just trying to understand the essence of movement therapy and build up a knowledge base for later when I graduate and pursue this as a career. With that, I would like to return to something I wrote in last year’s update which was, “It seems that I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply.” I can say now that I have made a solid dent in my pursuit of dance and I am confident that it will continue to shape itself during the next year leading up to graduation.

2017: age 19

I walked into the dance studio of my college on the first day of classes, nervous about what would happen next. I had not danced in six months — would I twist my ankle during the first combination? Would I even be able to balance on one leg anymore? Self-doubt rushed into my mind as I tediously did some stretches before class. I didn’t know what to expect of my body or how it would react to the experience of dancing again. A few minutes later, I was warmly welcomed by my modern dance teacher, Katie Faulkner. She shook my hand in such a way that I instinctively knew she would be very important in my growth as a dancer and a person. Her encouragement was the one thing that kept me coming back to class week after week — she was the first person to believe in me in a long time.

I don’t think I ever felt as liberated as I did after those classes. I always walked out with euphoria and lots of questions on my mind. What does this mean? Should I start dancing seriously again? Do I just keep it as a side hobby? Should I venture out to other studios? Maybe I can do a minor if I work things out with my major (International Studies)? It seemed like a small thing, walking out of dance class high off movement, but it sparked a feeling deep inside me — one that I missed dearly and wanted back more than anything.

However, I silenced that feeling for the first half of the year, only focusing on my major, which I thought would be secure, commendable and expected of me. I could not grasp the idea of going to a private university (and spending thousands of dollars I don’t have) to study anything else but International Studies. I was there on scholarship and felt that I needed to earn a degree that guaranteed money, respect and a job. So, of course, dance took the back seat until I reached a point that broke me into pieces and forced me to reconsider everything.

My second semester was awful. I spent months in emotional and mental darkness, becoming less and less recognizable to myself, losing interest in everything that once mattered to me. I was convinced I had depression and anxiety and nothing could cure it. I hated my classes; I felt so pressured to continue faking my interest in them. I skipped dance classes. I couldn’t sleep at night. I avoided people. The only person I reached out to was the one who believed in me. I sat down with Katie and told her everything. I told her how I was feeling, why I was not coming to class anymore. I told her about my major and how unsatisfied it left me. I told her about my dreams, fears and doubts about dance. What she said to me next was the most comforting and enlightening thing I had ever heard, and drove me to this conclusion:

Pursuing an education in dance offers experiences, lessons and challenges that no other major can offer. In fact, the skills and tools you get from studying dance give you the freedom to take on various jobs, depending on your interests. It cultivates creativity, feeds curiosity, and creates a mind-body connection that makes you a wholesome, life-long learner. Yes, there is risk and maybe not much money, but exploring everything about one’s passion is an invaluable thing — it makes every day, every assignment, and every class worth it. There is something so special about the arts that other academic careers cannot provide (for me at least): that feeling of liberation, euphoria and endless curiosity.

As my first year of college came to an end, I finally knew what I had to do. I switched my major to the Performing Arts and Social Justice with a concentration in Dance, dropped International Studies like a hot potato, and created a plan for the next two years that is fully committed to dance. I felt like a new person. The heavy pressures and expectations lifted off my shoulders with ease. I stopped feeling depressed. I could finally sleep at night. I smiled and laughed and came to peace with certain self-truths that I was denying for so long. I could finally breathe.

I look forward to seeing where this new path takes me, and I hope to discover more and more about life and myself through dance. It seems like I have only scratched the surface in my pursuit of dance, and the next few years will be defining in new ways as I explore dance more deeply. For now, I will be heading down to Argentina in the fall where I will learn how to tango and spend time exploring the world with my new outlook on life and learning.

2016: age 18

It is hard for me to put into words where dancing fits into my life now, but it is simpler to say that I have taken a break from dance. This choice was again for the sake of my health, but this time, for my mental health.

I traveled to Germany last summer for the Dresden Ballet Intensive at the Palucca University. I was so ecstatic about traveling and dancing, since it has been my dream since childhood to do both at the same time and experience such an exhilarating dynamic. And the excitement showed, in my face, in my movements, in my breath; I was sincerely happy! I took classes from some of the most talented European dancers around, and even got the chance to take a Forsythe-inspired class from one of his dancers, Ana Presta. It was another world there. The nagging schoolwork thoughts dissolved into my sweat, the anxiety I had been hoarding left through my breath, and the pressures of my own expectations danced right out of my head.

Fast forward to January 2016, I spent every day in an emotional wreck. Nonstop tears and heaving sighs were poisoning my mind to believe that I have no means to dance and I should just give it up. Who was I trying to take on the world of dance, a place filled with endless talent that I cannot compare to? Am I just dancing because that is what I’ve been doing for the past 13 years and have nothing else to pursue? Do I really love dance, or just like it? Like any bad relationship, I decided we needed to take a break.

Of course, giving up dance is a temporary solution. I need time to think. I need to figure out what I was meant to do on Earth and if dancing fits into that vision. I had always believed it did, because of habit. But dancing should not be merely a habit; it deserves passion, curiosity, focus, creativity, emotion, and so much more. I felt so undeserving to dance, so inadequate of what it demands, that I simply could not bear to do it any longer until I pulled my life together. I am not able to offer dance these things right now, and I will wait until I can. Then, I will return to the beautiful art form that it is, and give it everything I’ve got.

I will be moving to San Francisco in the fall, where I will hopefully start dancing again. Until then, I will be taking care of my mind and body, and resolving this messy breakup with dance.

2015: age 17

My story did not end where I thought it would. I thought I would return to dancing with optimal health and a renewed spirit in the fall, but, it took me much longer to get to that place. Throughout the school year, I did not belong to any studio in particular but rather studio hopped to take the best classes I could find. Really, I just took open classes all year long. There are benefits to this: meeting new dancers regularly, choosing when to take class, and taking from new teachers. For a while this routine satisfied my dancing needs and I found it exhilarating to meet so many new people in the dance world. However, it was only a matter of time before I grew stagnant in progression and felt stuck in a rut. I was not improving the way I wanted to and I felt constantly overstressed during class from working so hard. Teachers noted that my upper body was very stiff and I needed to relax more. But, I just pushed on, working my muscles to extremes that were unhealthy and, ultimately, unproductive.

The other downfall to being a wandering dancer was that all the pressure to challenge myself was in my hands. Open class doesn’t offer the personal attention I needed to improve. So, sometimes I managed to motivate myself in class, while other times I felt terrible about my technique and couldn’t look in the mirror any longer. I was mentally and physically beating myself up with the stubborn hope that that would be the solution. If only I knew what I was getting into.

My physical health started draining. Surprisingly, I had not yet fainted or injured myself, but it took getting to such a crucial state for me to realize I will not be dancing much longer with the way I treat myself. I had become so self-critical nothing seemed to be good enough anymore (even if it was!). I was my biggest critic, worst enemy and toughest teacher.

But everything turned around very quickly. I did whatever it took to regain my health so I could dance again, and that happened easily with lots of cake and sweets. Lots of it. As good as it was for me to gain weight again, I hated the person I was becoming. Looking in the mirror brought me to tears because I felt like I was losing everything I had worked so hard for. I thought I was losing my integrity, my strength and my beauty. More so, I was scared beyond belief what it would be like to dance in this new, unfamiliar body. So I tried it out.

At first it was very uncomfortable. I couldn’t move as freely as before, I felt heavier, and I furrowed my brow at everything I did. I was still the same harsh critic, just in a bigger body.

I decided to try something new for once: I looked in the mirror and admired what I could. I touched the muscle in my legs, felt my arms, twisted and turned to see all angles of my being. I complimented myself and smiled at what I saw. Yes, I felt pretty foolish, but these moments of self-love are what changed me. Dancing started becoming more enjoyable because I only focused on loving it. I became more comfortable with how I move and realized how powerful and strong my body really was. Most of all, I was finally thankful for my bods abilities in dance because those are specific and special to me, no one else. I am beautiful when I dance, and I know it.

No, I cannot do 32 fouette turns or hold my leg up by my head, but I can move in ways that others can’t! I realized it’s not about being able to do it all or doing it perfectly; is about doing what you can do BEST. Dancing is a personal art; you do it however it fits you naturally.

Now, I dance with ease. I practice loving myself daily and admiring all the great things I can do. And in my eyes, this is the greatest improvement I have made all year long.

2014: age 16

I had a surge of motivation in the winter time and was craving more out of dance. I started working harder during class, doing strengthening every day, routinely jogging for cardio endurance and becoming very fit in the process. This lasted until the end of June, and my body was becoming a strong lean machine, or so I thought. I actually started to over-train too much and did not allow my body to rest, resulting in a major fallback for my dancing. It got so bad to the point that I was restricted by my doctor to stop dancing for a while until my body regained its normal state of being. To me, not dancing for several months sounded like torture. But I realized that if I wanted to keep dancing, I must take a break and rejuvenate. So I did. I spent my days stretching and holding myself back from going to the studio. It was a lot harder than I expected!

Eventually my body started to heal naturally, the rips and tears in my muscles were mended, my energy level rose, and my body was able to move again. Once I was allowed to take a dance class, I went in fearing that I had lost all that I had worked for. But to my surprise, I did not lose anything. I gained instead. I realized that I had been abusing the art of dance by treating it as only a physical sport. I had lost my connection to artistry and passion by becoming blinded by my fitness goals in dance. Taking that first class brought me tears of joy because I finally had understood the blessing I have been given: the ability to dance. Not many people have this blessing, and it makes me appreciate the art all the more. Now, every time I step into the studio, a sense of gratitude flows through me and I enjoy myself when dancing. This has brought me to a stronger sense of my artistry and passion for dance.

2013: age 15

This past summer at the San Francisco Conservatory of Dance has really made me interested in the diversity of dance and I’m eager to learn more and more. I’m currently very invested in dance and my growth in it, and hopefully will continue that through a professional career. I would say I am totally in love with dance, and it continues to be something I want to do!

The only thing that scares me is college and dance and how that all works out.

~~

The post Felicitas: Taking The Leap appeared first on Stance on Dance.