Tag: Why Dance Matters

What was it like to hear Darcey Bussell announce your name as the gold medallist?

Every time I do a competition, I always think it’s a performance. I don’t necessarily think about the competition aspect, because then it becomes more pressurised and I always end up doing worse. So I wasn’t expecting anything, to be completely honest – because it’s the Fonteyn! It was scary, having to stand in front of so many people and bow and accept something so lovely. I didn’t necessarily know how to put it into words, because it’s just a very odd feeling. It’s very surreal and lovely.

Before the final, your father said you would probably be quiet and trying to focus. Is that right?

My dad knows me a bit too well! That was spot on. Before going on stage, you have to just block everyone out. I watched everyone, which was lovely, like a bunch of different variations – so when it came to my bit, I was like: this is my time to tell part of the story, this is my time to entertain people. I don’t take myself seriously – but I take this job seriously, this craft and art. Out of respect for everybody there, all the people that have bought tickets, my teachers and family getting me here and supporting me, I feel like it’s my job to get myself in that zone. So it’s not just me doing this on my own.

How easy is it to make classical technique your own? 

I’ve always trained in several styles: jazz, ballet, contemporary, neoclassical, tap, loads of different things. I’ll take different aspects of different things and fuse them into my ballet. Learning everything is overwhelming, but you can’t lose yourself in the technique. I’ve got teachers and people around me that will tell me, Listen, you’ve got a soul in there. You can’t just turn into a robot lifting their legs up.

At The Fonteyn there were young dancers from all over the world, and coaches seeing you for the first time – how was that experience?

I decided to treat the first half of the week as a summer school and just enjoy it and get as much out of it as I could. The faculty were lovely, and I made such good friends. We were all trying to keep afloat, work together and enjoy it properly. It was such a nice experience. 

Being with these new coaches was a breath of fresh air because they were an objective eye. They didn’t know who you were, or any of the technical features you possess. All they were looking for was the energy you gave off and how comfortable you were to watch. We did one rehearsal with Endalyn T Outlaw who was so lovely and warm. She said to me, calm it down. Whatever happens in performance is what happens, you can’t change it. Think of it as just a different version of the dance. It calmed me down, and I was able to do it the best I’d ever done, because it was a completely different correction to any I’d had before.

How did dance start for you?

We’ve always been a very creative and athletic family, so we’d try everything. As a two year old, I used to spin around and kick my legs up in the air. I only properly started wanting to do ballet at the age of 10. It’s a comfortable place for me, where I can keep pushing myself to be the best version of myself I can be. 

Why does dance matter to you? 

It matters because art is important. Art matters. Also, it keeps us all connected, as a whole human race. Anybody can dance, even if it’s just dancing in your kitchen when you’re washing up the dishes. It’s a really great way of expressing oneself. If I’m sad, then I can dance. If I’m insanely happy, I can dance. Even if I’m feeling anger, which is very rare, I can dance. It’s a unique thing, and you can find yourself through it.

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is the RAD’s podcast – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. The latest season also includes Aaron S Watkin, Fonteyn judge and artistic director of English National Ballet, choreographers Pam Tanowitz and Drew McOnie, and the actor Nina Wadia. Please do listen and subscribe.

What do you remember from your first major journey – from South Africa to train in England?

I came to England when I was 14. In those days people mostly came by boat, so we sailed from Cape Town. I lived in Johannesburg, 1000 miles away from the Cape, so we took a train: the first time I’d ever been on a train. Lots of friends and relatives had come to see us off, I saw so many people in tears. And I felt so guilty because I was jumping up and down for joy. I was just so excited by the prospect of coming to London.

The first big international trip you took with the Royal Ballet was to the USA in 1960?

I turned 19 on the day we flew to America, and we did a five month tour of America. We started in New York for six weeks and then we went the length and breadth. There was a tremendous amount of one night stands – completely exhausting because you slept on the train and then had to get off at eight o’clock in the morning. We were expected to dress properly at all times: gloves and stockings with the seams straight up the back of the leg which we had to climb into in these little restrooms on the train.

What was it like to travel during through a still segregated America?

I was reminded of South Africa, because it was like apartheid. A member of the orchestra – a violinist, a lovely guy – was Black. And he wasn’t allowed to play in the orchestra in the south. He wasn’t allowed to travel on the buses or eat with us. I remember writing home to my mother and saying, this is like being in South Africa, it’s horrible. Through the 1960s, we went many times, and it got worse, really, because there were the assassinations of President Kennedy and Martin Luther King. There is nothing like travelling for opening your eyes. And at the same time, we were dancing our socks off, night after night.

How was your first trip to Russia in the 1960s?

It couldn’t have been a greater contrast. Everything was so regimented and people had told us that we would be followed at all times. We were told that we had to keep our opinions to ourselves, not even share them in the rooms, because everything would be bugged, even the bathroom. I remember having somebody who didn’t even hide the fact that he was tailing us. It was such a shock to discover that people lived like this, and that they had so little. But the audiences were absolutely amazing, people with such knowledge of the art form. While we were there, Rudolf Nureyev was defecting to the west in Paris, but not a drop of news got out. It was only when we came back that we discovered what had happened.

How did you persuade people to support the campaign for RAD’s new headquarters?

It was my belief in what the RAD gives the world – the importance of young people, understanding and appreciating dance, being well taught, being properly prepared for whatever their career will be. Dance influences them – the ability to communicate, to care deeply about something is so vital.

Why does dance matter to you?

The great thing about dance is that there is no language. It has  taken us to so many places where you can’t really communicate with people: our first tour to Japan, to China, the first time we went to Russia, and then Brazil and Cuba. It’s been such a privilege to be a part of an art form that doesn’t need language. That’s been the great thing, taking it all around the world and discovering that people everywhere seem to understand.

Why Dance Matters is the RAD’s podcast – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you. 

The fourth season of Why Dance Matters also includes conversations with choreographers Akram Khan and Charlotte Edmonds, and the poet Benjamin Zephaniah. Please do listen and subscribe.

What came first: dance or athletics?

I started dancing when I was two. Mum took me along to ballet class and I did tap, ballet and modern for about 10 years. I loved it. I didn’t experience competition until I was at primary school, and was quite shy and was never confident. But I loved sports day and the fact that you could win or lose – I enjoyed that element of competition. It was how I got more involved in athletics – it was black or white, no grey areas.

How do you deal with winning and losing?

Even when I win, I’m very critical of myself. It’s part of being of an athlete, you’re always looking to do better. I’ve always been prepared to fail, but we don’t really prepare athletes for success. At Rio in 2016, I became a double paralympic champion, I was a world record holder, it should have been the happiest time of my life. I felt relief that I’d actually done it, but didn’t enjoy it. It felt good for five minutes, but I then felt very unfulfilled. I’d always felt like a mentally very strong and resilient person, but was suddenly spiralling into having mental health issues. It completely took me by surprise. People think, when you’ve achieved something you’ve dreamt of your whole life, that you should be happy and grateful. I felt very isolated. I completely lost myself and it took 18 months for me to become even a shadow of myself again. Even now, I’m not the same person.

How did you enjoy Dancing on Ice?

For me, ice skating is ballet on ice. When I did Dancing on Ice it was so good for me. I was terrible – but had a new-found appreciation for dance. The ice dancers are incredible. You’ve got the logical structure of training and preparation, but you’ve also got the whole artistic and performance side. Since starting athletics I’d never gone back to dance, so it was awe-inspiring. Blind people don’t necessarily have good spatial awareness, and I’m no good at facial expressions, so I knew [professional ice dancer] Mark Hanretty was nervous about working with me. We had a really good conversation: I said, I’m an athlete, I’m very coachable. We absolutely clicked, I completely trusted him and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way.

What difference has your guide dog, Hatti, made to you?

It took me a while to decide to get a guide dog. I was getting very bored with explaining to everybody that I couldn’t see very well and asking if they could help me. I hated using a cane. Hatti gives me confidence: that I can go anywhere and not be judged, because all people want to do is stroke her. Disability can be awkward for other people – having Hatti there makes people more comfortable and feel that they can ask me any questions they want. Hatti’s an amazing dog, she’s been there through a lot of ups and downs.

Why does dance matter to you?

Dance is an expression of yourself, it gives you a sense of freedom. I’m terrible at dancing – but I do like to have a little dance in the kitchen!

Why Dance Matters is a new podcast from the RAD – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you.

Our new season includes Carlos Acosta, American opera star Joyce DiDonato and RAD teacher Barbara Peters. Please listen and subscribe to Why Dance Matters.