theBendlogo_darkTheBend: A fusion of insights from creative professionals, discussing concepts of the artistic Mind Body and Soul.  The Bend dives deeper through a broad range of grounded topics often questioned by dancers and creative professionals, with a foremost reminder to be present in the process.

*This article is part of a series following the last months of my 15 year professional dance career with Aspen Santa Fe Ballet. To start at the ‘beginning of the end’ so to speak, check out https://interviewenlair.com/6-months-soul/.

I went on my first cycling adventure.  Yes, I, a trained professional dancer hopped on a road bike and did an 18 mile ride in Colorado. Why is this surprising?  Well you see, for a dancer, any additional physical activity I have done has somehow been related to or tied into dance.  My extra curricular interests have only complemented my work, we have tunnel vision in doing only what helps us excel in our craft.  We wouldn’t dare do something just ‘for fun’ if it were to go against the physical mold of what we are striving to be.  So why did I do it?  Well my friends, I bring you to another fear in this process of transition and retirement from the stage, the lack of physicality in daily life.

We all know that working out, sweating, generally being active is good for our body and mind.  Serotonin and Endorphins give us a natural high that can effect our mood and happiness.  As a dancer you begin to accept the feeling of waking up in the morning sore and tight, in fact you actually crave it.  I’ve always been the type who actually gets a little depressed if I go a few days without working out, even if it is during a much needed rest period.  Physicality and being active has become a part of my DNA, and come September 17th, I no longer will have the luxury of being held accountable to make sure it happens every day.

I’m not saying I’m a lover of company class.  Of course I take everyday, and I understand the importance.  I’ve just never been one to be hung up on the ritual aspect of it.  However, I love moving.  I love rehearsing.  I love sweating. I crave the exhaustion that I could never bring myself to feel without the demand of the choreography. The fatigued quads, pure exhaustion in my muscles and chest.  The feeling of relinquishing all of yourself  in your partners arms, and looking into their eyes sharing a secret moment that only the 2 of you will ever experience.  This is what I’ll miss, and I know I will need to find a way to fill that void.

Recently we’ve (Aspen Santa Fe Ballet) have been working on Alejandro Cerrudo’s ‘Little Mortal Jump’, to premiere this Friday, July 9th.  All of the aspects in this piece are epic, from the oversized moving boxes and the music, and the movement.  While not trying too hard to be put on, a rush of emotion will fill the audience, and they may not even know why.  An interesting thing happened to me during this process of learning the new piece.  Of course I was focused on my own role, however, I was able to sneak moments to disengage myself from the group and watch.  Not “dancer watch” to make sure I knew the steps and was executing them well, but watch as a separate entity.  Surprisingly this was new to me.  Why is it important?  You see, I truly found joy in my colleagues being physical, in watching dance from the outside.  It wasn’t just joy, it was inspiring.  Even though I wasn’t in the middle of the studio rehearsing,  I could mentally put myself into a dancers body and imagine how the work feels…the struggle, the reward, the detail and the gift of feeling.

At this moment I realized what many have probably realized sooner than I in a career, dance is a physical manifestation of love.  That is why dancers love doing it, and that is why audiences crave to watch this living art form happen in front of their eyes.  Dance provides an outlet for an audience to jump into a new world, a new story, a new feeling.   I finally get that, and it is quite comforting.

Sure, I am going to road bike again, I mean I have to do something!  But I  also know I still have dance as an outlet when I am feeling a void in physicality. I am hopeful it will take me back to a time where I was once that vessel of expression, and smile fondly to myself at the memory, maybe even shed a tear.  I am confident it will not come from a place of resentment, but of being relieved and thankful that dance will continue to exist.

Samantha Klanac Campanile
Samantha Klanac CampanileColumnist | Dancer
  • Featured Image: left photo credit, Rosalie O’Connor, Like a Samba, Trey McIntyre, ASFB.