As a child, my natural inclination was to draw. A hobby that started with scribbles and giraffes evolved into photo-realistic still life and digital paintings. Somewhere in the middle of this timeline came dance. I spent the rest of my childhood intensely training in classical ballet while balancing advanced art classes in school. Now with two majors in Dance Performance and Choreography and Communication Design, this dynamic has not changed. As a result, my artistic work is never mutually exclusive.   

 

This cross-influence of design on dance is most evident in my choreographic process. I approach my work the way a visual artist approaches a painting: Planning broad strokes to intricate details, layer by layer. Logical and analytical, I think and work in patterns and shapes, designing dance in space as I would design lines on paper. My design process, both in dance and in graphics, relies on minimalism—to exemplify ideas as clearly and simply as possible. Every idea starts as a structure on which to build more structures or to topple them completely. Some projects speak to my personal experiences while others veer toward pure aesthetics. With a dominant background in ballet, I aim to mix the technical with the pedestrian to make work that is not only visually pleasing, but also speaks to the human experience.

 

In the context of the tiny, run-down studio in my hometown, classical ballet was all I knew and all I thought I wanted. But I never quite fit the classical ballerina archetype. My movement quality was too fluid and hyperextended to continuously maintain formal structures—a frustrating situation for someone with perfectionist tendencies. Upon starting college, I found a home in contemporary ballet, through which I gained the opportunity to develop my individual artistry upon a strong technical foundation. I have learned to embrace the imperfect and the distorted, fluidly alternating between structural positions and abstract movement. With every class and performance, I challenge myself to find more to my movement. Whether that “more” is reaching further in space or within myself, I aim to make each moment different from the last through the never-ending process of artistic development.      

 

The process of defining myself as an artist does not end with the completion of my training. Rather, I am only beginning to discover who I am as a dancer and what types of projects I want to pursue. My identities as a dancer, choreographer, and designer are forever intertwined. Instead of choosing one, I hope to use this conflated dynamic to my advantage: To create work that crosses disciplines, blurring the lines of tradition and expectation.