Just over a year ago, I made an early decision to retire from my career as a professional dancer. Leaving behind the glory of the stage, the grind of endless hours in the studio . . . the past 16 years of my life dedicated to performing art. I know for certain that not one day has gone by that I haven’t considered my decision, contemplated my timing . . . wondered what ballet I might be rehearsing or injury I might be nursing if I was still “in the game.” I go to the theater frequently to get my fix of live art, and each time I sit there on the other side of the curtain, a cocktail of mixed emotions swirls in my soul, a bittersweet taste of a life I knew so well, combined with an urge to be up on stage with the rest of them. Needless to say, it’s hard for me to sit still.
Link copied to clipboard
Shelby Elsbree. Photographs by Karolina Kuras
After seven years of dancing professionally, I moved back to Manhattan to pursue my education.
Living in a sleepless city rarely encourages stillness—but healthily sustaining a life here demands it. This is why I’ve found yoga to be the most powerful antidote to getting lost in the rush. These days, if I’m not buried in books on campus, I can mostly likely be found on my mat, caught somewhere within a vinyasa flow, tuning out sirens and city sounds and tuning in to my breath, indulging passive streams of consciousness and lingering on the in-between.
At the end of a recent class, my teacher left us with some wise words of Rainer Maria Rilke:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. . .the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.”
Rainer Maria Rilke
In practice, I find this to be as charming and challenging as any other artistic pursuit. Rather than worrying about my past choices or stressing about my next step, this reminds me to hone the art of living presently, of living everything. This invites nostalgia as an empowering vehicle to drive forward, it slows the pace of the present, it stills the stress of the future.
Let’s live the questions on our journey to the answers. Let’s live everything.
Shelby Elsbree. Photograph by Karolina Kuras
Shelby Elsbree
Shelby Elsbree trained at the Sarasota Ballet Academy and the School of American Ballet in 2004. In 2009 she joined Royal Danish Ballet, where she danced for four years. In 2013 she joined Boston Ballet. She is currently pursuing her bachelor's degree in Psychology at Columbia University in New York City.
subscribe to the latest in dance
“Uncommonly intelligent, substantial coverage.”
Your weekly source for world-class dance reviews, interviews, articles, and more.
Lights go up on three dancers who sit side by side on the floor in a far corner of the stage, legs outstretched, soles of their bare feet delightfully exposed. Siblings posing for a photo in the backyard? It’s a brief look, like a flashback.
Mesmerizing to watch? Or commentary on life versus machine? The program performed by Lyon Opera Ballet at New York’s City Center is both. Merce Cunningham’s “Biped” (1999) features a double cast—one of human dancers, and another of computer generated figures.
In the second week of February, an ensemble of young and remarkably accomplished dancers presented a lovely and generously conceived programme just beyond the Paris city limits, at the Théâtre des Sablons in Neuilly-sur-Seine, as part of a tour spanning not only several French cities but also Spain, Germany, Switzerland and Malaysia. The evening unfolded as a carefully balanced succession of styles, allowing the dancers to reveal both technical assurance and interpretative maturity. Overall, the cohesion of the ensemble and the clarity of their stage presence matched those of an established professional company. Yet this was not, strictly speaking, the...
comments