Why I Dance: Sarah Lane
Dancing with authority and poise, American Ballet Theatre soloist Sarah Lane has made her mark in roles that range from Aurora to Vera in Ashton's A Month in the Country. She began ballet classes as a child in Memphis, and continued her studies with Timothy Draper at the Draper Center for Dance Education when her family moved to Rochester, New York. She joined ABT as an apprentice in 2003, and became a soloist in 2007. Her technical mastery has also brought her acclaim in contemporary works by Tharp, Morris, Elo and others. During ABT's upcoming spring season at New York's Lincoln Center, she will dance leads in Coppélia and Theme and Variations.
I started dancing at the age of 4. Unlike many, I was never inspired to start because I saw a dance film or performance. I didn't go to a full-length ballet until I was 16. I was just in my own world, doing something that I truly loved. There were even times that I needed to be brought back to earth. My teacher, the late Timothy Draper, once said, “Sarah, the lights are on, but nobody's home!"
I've never been a frivolous girl. I spent my early childhood living in the country outside of Memphis, Tennessee. I was a regular hillbilly along with my two younger brothers. We rode the neighbor's horses, picked cotton in the cotton field and smashed pennies on the railroad tracks. I had a creative side, though. I wrote poetry and I liked to sing. My brother, Micah, would drum away on a plastic bucket while I tried to carry a tune.
My parents were very involved in contemporary Christian music and that was the primary influence that led me to dance. My dad was a sound engineer for several artists in that genre. It was something that he was passionate about and it was contagious. I understood in a sincere and personal way what worship was. It's being humbled by a grace that is far more exquisite than anything you can imagine. For me, worship is doing what I do to honor something greater than myself. My first ballet teacher, Pat Gillespie, was religious as well. She instilled in me a deeper meaning for dancing and connected the dots between music, ballet and faith.
Another part of dance that drew me in was acting. When I was young, I would play make-believe with my brothers. Becoming a character onstage at this point in my life is still fun, but it is not a game anymore. Developing a persona requires a constant thought process that melds my own experiences and feelings with those of the character I'm dancing.
At times, of course, I doubt myself. Life is not easy and neither is ballet. I'm a perfectionist, which has not always been to my advantage. I get frustrated when I don't measure up to my own standards. Perfectionism can be a trap: I understand now that the process every day is more important than the finished product.
I appreciate my craft more and more as I get older. As the late, great Frederic Franklin said, “It is a privilege to be a dancer." What dancers experience goes beyond what words can express. To put it feebly, it is the ability to set your soul free in a moment that can't be captured or replicated. It's being real and vulnerable enough to share who you are as a unique human being. It's believing that imperfection can still create something beautiful. There is so much in life that motivates me now in my dancing. I find inspiration in the love I share with my husband, the laughs I have with my brothers and my niece, in how happy my two dogs get when I come home.
What we do as dancers is very different from the Hollywood version of ballet life. Ballet is more than steps, or pyrotechnics. When I finally saw that first ballet, it was Amanda McKerrow as Giselle at the Metropolitan Opera House. What I took away with me I can't explain, but it was something special. I want to give that to others; true ballet can give that to others. That is why I dance.
Photo: Sarah Lane as Aurora in ABT's Sleeping Beauty. By Rosalie O'Connor, Courtesy ABT.
From the minute my journey as a dancer began at age 4, there were no other options of what I might do with my life.
Sure, I tried other "after-school activities." I tried desperately to master The Phantom of the Opera with my squeaky violin rental—a headache for my parents who paid for private Suzuki method lessons at our house. Constantly attempting famous show tunes on my violin, the effort was completely futile. I actually remember thinking, 'Surely this sheet music is wrong, this sounds nothing like the Phantom of the Opera.'
I even tried my hand at gymnastics. But when my mom's brilliant bribery of $100 for my first mastery of a kip or a back handspring didn't produce any results, we quickly threw in the towel.
When Miami City Ballet artistic director Lourdes Lopez was a principal dancer at New York City Ballet, she missed her opportunity to honor Jerome Robbins onstage. "Every time there was a celebration for Jerry, I was either injured or had just retired," says Lopez. "I was never able to publicly thank him onstage for all that he taught us and the beauty he left us."
But when Lopez was planning MCB's Jerome Robbins Celebration for the 100th anniversary of the legend's birth, she saw an opportunity. She asked the Robbins Trust to allow her to perform the Ringmaster in Robbins' Circus Polka, a role the choreographer originated himself.
Growing up in inner city Rochester, NY, Aesha Ash was just one of the neighborhood kids. She'd imagine people driving by, judging her by her black skin.
"They'd never know that I was dreaming of becoming a professional ballet dancer. No one would think, Some day she's going to make it into New York City Ballet," says Ash.
After an inspiring career at NYCB, Béjart's Ballet Lausanne and LINES, the January 2006 Dance Magazine cover star—one of our 25 to Watch that year—is no longer performing. But she's determined to use her dance background to change the stereotypes and misconceptions that people—including black people—have about women of color. "I want to show it's okay to embrace our softer side, and let the world know we're multidimensional," says Ash.
Aesha Ash in Richmond, CA. PC Renee Scott via swandreamsproject.org
In 2011, she launched the Swan Dreams Project to inspire kids in the community she grew up in. The original idea was to post images of herself in a tutu all over Rochester. "I remember growing up and in the bodega you'd see images of girls in bikinis on motorbikes," says Ash. "I wanted to replace those with photos that show women of color in a different light."
She knew the power imagery can have: She still remembers what it felt like as a student at the School of American Ballet to see a photo of black ballet dancer Andrea Long. "That image was everything on days when I was feeling disenchanted. I'd see that picture of her, and know that the struggles I was going through, she went through them, too."
Ash soon realized she didn't have the budget to fund her original plan ("I never realized how expensive a bus stop advertisement is!"). But she's made the images available through an online store, and often simply gives away prints at her own expense to schools and students in need of some inspiration.
Any proceeds she makes from the sales go directly to other organizations that are working to expand ballet in diverse communities. One large donation even led to a pointe shoe fund at dancer Robyn Gardenhire's City Ballet of Los Angeles school—and it helped one dancer who had quit ballet because of the expense come back to class.
Now a mother of two in San Jose, CA, Ash will also start teaching a free after-school ballet class at her daughter's public school next month. "I recently taught at Girls Inc. in Oakland, and one of the little black girls said, 'Are you the ballet teacher?' She just stood there, staring at me with her mouth open, like a unicorn had just walked into the room," Ash says. "You never know the impact you can have just by being a presence."
Ever find yourself lusting after that six o'clock penché, or a développé that will reach your nose? You're not alone. The eye is naturally drawn to the end points of a movement, and, in dance, that often translates to the highest extension.
But what if you're born without extreme, Instagram-worthy lines? It's a matter of developing a laser focus on alignment as well as strengthening and stretching with better body mechanics in mind.
From coast to coast, choreographers have spent the first year of Donald Trump's presidency responding to the impact of his election and what it means for them as artists.
New York City's Dante Brown used rubber Trump masks in his work Package (revamped), which examines the monstrosities of power.
A video titled "Dancers vs. Trump Quotes" went viral last summer, showing dancers taking Trump's "locker-room" talk to task.
Alexis Convento, lead curator of the New York City–based Current Sessions, dedicated a whole program to the concept of resistance, while educator and interdisciplinary artist Jill Sigman has initiated a workshop called "Body Politic, Somatic Selves," as a space for movement research around questions of support, activism and solidarity.
In San Francisco, choreographer Margaret Jenkins facilitated a panel of artists about the role of activism within their work.
When London-based perfume company The Beautiful Mind Series was looking for a collaborator for their next scent, they skipped the usual celebrity set and brought in prima ballerina Polina Semionova instead. "I was fascinated by what goes on in the mind of a great dancer," perfumer Geza Schoen said in a press release. Semionova's ballet-inspired scent, Precision & Grace, celebrates the intelligence and beauty behind her craft.
Courtesy of The Beautiful Mind Series
The ever-so-busy Kyle Abraham is back in New York City for a brief visit with his company Abraham.In.Motion as they prepare for an exciting spring season of new endeavors with some surprising guests. The company will be debuting a new program at The Joyce Theater on May 1, that will include two new pieces from Abraham, restaged works by Doug Varone and Bebe Miller, and a world premiere from Andrea Miller. Talk about an exciting line-up!
We caught up with Abraham during a recent rehearsal where he revealed what he is tired of hearing in the dance community.
Choreographer Tero Saarinen has a proclivity for the peculiar—and for epic orchestral music. That he should be commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic to create a new dance work to accompany the U.S. premiere of Bernd Alois Zimmermann's Cello Concerto en forme de pas de trois only makes sense. Zimmermann's eerie, difficult-to-classify composition falls squarely in Saarinen's wheelhouse. Walt Disney Concert Hall, Jan. 19–21. laphil.com.
Two competition routines are equal in technical proficiency, artistry and choreography. One consists of all girls, the other includes a boy. Guess which takes home first prize?
If you guessed the one with the boy, you may be privy to an unspoken and much-debated phenomenon in the competition dance world: The Boy Factor. According to The Boy Factor, a competitive piece is more likely to win if there's a boy in it.
"If it's all technically equal and one group is all girls and the other group has a boy, the one with the boy will win," says Rysa Childress, owner of All Star Studios in Forest Hills, New York. "Boy soloists are sometimes scored higher than more technically proficient girls because if a boy has good stage presence, we let him slide," says an anonymous competition judge. "And most of the feedback will be for the boy."
I'll never forget something Roberto Bolle once told me when I was interviewing him about his workout regimen: Talking about how much he loved to swim, he said, "I would love to go in the Italian sea, but I am too well-known there to show up in my suit."
It always amused and kinda shocked me that a ballet dancer could reach that level of fame. But it's true: In his native Italy, Bolle is a bonafide celerity.