"As much as I love being in the studio, I knew that after I stopped dancing, I didn't want to continue that rigorous in-the-studio lifestyle," says Combes, whose bold, ebullient performances onstage hold nothing back.
Over the past several years, Combes has spent her free time earning a bachelor of science in organizational communications, and then a graduate certificate in non-profit management from Northeastern University. (All while raising her now 3-year-old daughter, Cora.)
"I became very interested in what the art form could offer as a whole, rather than just personally what I could offer as an artist," she says. "For so long I only worried about what my art was doing, how I was performing. This really gives me an opportunity to make change and reach new audiences."
In addition to her degrees, she's already gotten valuable, on-the-ground work experience. While pregnant, she asked Boston Ballet artistic director Mikko Nissinen if she could dip her toes into the administrative side of the company. She became his assistant's assistant for seven months, and worked in development, helping out on a capital campaign for the school's $2.5 million facility in Newton, becoming the chair of Boston Ballet's Young Partners Committee, putting together proposals, hosting events, giving speeches.
Igor Burlak, Courtesy Boston Ballet
"They used to joke that anything they'd ask me to do, I said 'yes,' " says Combes. "But I really enjoyed it. I loved seeing the company from a new perspective."
As she settles into her role at Festival Ballet this fall, her dream is to help dismantle the stereotype that ballet is an elitist art form. "I want to give the opportunity to create rep that's relevant and shows where we are as a society," she says. "It's important to pay homage to our history, but I think it's much more important to create art that speaks to people today. In the technological environment we're in right now, human emotions and connections are that much more important."
Although she is fairly familiar with the Rhode Island company—her husband Yury Yanowsky has been choreographing there for the past 10 years—she plans to meet as many people in the community as possible to gauge what's working, and what needs to evolve for the company to become more accessible.
Kathleen Breen Combes with husband Yury Yanowsky in Val Caniparoli's Lady of the Camellias
Gene Schiavone, Courtesy Boston Ballet
She knows she faces a steep learning curve. ("It's easy to say all this now," she admits.) But she's thankful for the way her performance career has prepared her to take on the challenge.
"I've always said that everything I've learned as a dancer can be translated into another career," she says. "I've had to perform under pressure in front of thousands of people. For the past 16 years, I've been given daily feedback that I'm expected to apply immediately—without offense. My whole career has been about dedication, resilience, dealing with disappointments, dealing with different cultures. I know there's a ton to learn, but I have a lot in the bag already."
James Whiteside (Jayme Thornton for Dance Magazine)
Say you're perpetually impeccable designer Thom Browne. Say you're planning your Spring 2020 Paris menswear show along a "Versailles country club" theme. Say you want a world-class danseur to open the show with some kind of appropriately fabulous choreography.
Who do you call? James Whiteside, of course. On Saturday, the American Ballet Theatre principal—wearing pointe shoes and a glorious pinstriped tutu—kicked off Browne's presentation at the École des Beaux-Arts with a 15-minute, show-stealing solo. Whiteside choreographed the piece himself, with the help of detailed notes from the designer.
I'd been a professional dancer for five years when I realized the pain I'd been feeling in my hip and down my sciatic nerve was not going away. I had been treating it for two years as we dancers do—with regular visits to my masseuse, physical therapy, baths, ice and lots of Aleve—but I never stopped dancing. It finally dawned on me that if I kept going at the speed I was going (which was, well, speedy), the pain would only get more severe and unrelenting, and I might never dance again.
I told myself I'd take two months off, and all would be better.
That first morning when I woke up at 10 am, I had no idea what to do with myself. My life until that moment had been dictated by class and rehearsal, every hour accounted for. How should I fill the huge swath of time ahead of me?