The Inner Voice

Isabella Boylston, on Listening to her Instincts

Isabella Boylston in Kenneth MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet. Photo by Rosalie O’Connor

I’ll never forget a performance of Alexei Ratmansky’s The Bright Stream I saw at American Ballet Theatre back in 2011. Out of the wings rocketed this dancer whom I had seen before—but not like this. Isabella Boylston was still in the corps de ballet, where she had been featured mostly in contemporary work, capitalizing on her slightly cool glamor and natural flexibility. But in this ballet, which combined a farcical plot with bravura steps, a new dancer emerged: dynamic, stylish, funny. Boylston was also thrillingly musical. And that jump!

Boylston was promoted to soloist a few months later, and to principal in 2014, at the age of 27. She wasn’t a prodigy. Filling out the big ballerina roles took time, though she was almost immediately a wonderful Juliet, a role she shaped around her free-wheeling, down-to-earth stage presence. The thing I remember most about her début is the way she ran across the stage, a headlong run that left your heart in your throat.  Growing up in Sun Valley, with a drummer father and a Swedish electrical-engineer mother, Boylston spent a lot of time outdoors in the mountains, hiking and doing sports. She loves nature. She has always been a free spirit.

The hieratic air of the ballerina is not really her thing. But her dancing has continued to grow, year after year, often in works by Ratmansky that highlighted her freedom of movement and full-bodied musicality, like Firebird, Aurora in his historically-inspired Sleeping Beauty, and The Seasons. But also in Frederick Ashton’s Sylvia and La Fille Mal Gardée, and in ballets by Balanchine, for which she has a particular affinity.

In The Bright Stream. Photo by Rosalie O’Connor

But this season felt different somehow. I caught two of her performances, in Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet, and was struck by their dramatic fullness. Boylston seems to have found a way to bring all of herself onstage, without reservations. The characters she created emerged naturally, through every step, gesture, and reaction. She was the same, but different, than she had been before.

I caught up with Boylston toward the end of ABT’s season, as she was preparing to depart for the Vail Dance Festival, where she will be dancing the role of the “Russian” girl in Balanchine’s Serenade and Christopher Wheeldon’s After the Rain, among other things. And in ABT’s fall season, she will dance a miniature created for her and her colleague and friend James Whiteside by Ratmansky during the pandemic. The fast-paced and playful duet, called “Neo,” is set to a virtuoso piece for shamisen, a Japanese instrument that has some similarities to the banjo. It’s hard to imagine that piece danced by anyone else.

What follows is a condensed version of our conversation, edited for clarity.

In Swan Lake with Daniel Camargo. Photo by Rosalie O’Connor

I was counting the years not too long ago and came to the realization that you’re 37! I’ve been watching you dance since you were in the Studio Company, back in 2005. And I’ve always loved your dancing. But what I’m amazed by now is that it still seems to be growing, blossoming. I was especially struck by your performances of Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet at the Met this season.

I know! I don't feel 37, it's weird. I must be a late bloomer, because I feel like I'm still improving, even technically. My Swan Lake and my two Romeos this season are the most embodied I've ever felt in my roles. In Swan, every step, everything I do, I am the character. It was nice to have that confidence.

Why do you think that is—what has changed for you?

Coming back from COVID, I had a couple of years where I was having a hard time. I was so nervous to go onstage. That, combined with having fewer performances [due to ABT’s reduced seasons at the Met, and a decline in touring] means that you don't have as much time to get comfortable. Last Met season was really rough. I was putting so much pressure on myself. I was still proud of my shows, but I was having trouble sleeping. My first show was Giselle, and the night before I slept for two hours. I did the show, and then I had two more sleepless nights. And then I did Swan Lake on two hours of sleep. I was such a basket case.

What is it like to perform in that state?

In a way it was empowering in the sense that I thought “If I can still do a decent show on two hours of sleep followed by repeated sleep deprivation, then I can really trust my body.” I don't know what's different this season, but I’ve been sleeping and feeling more confident in myself. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have been working really, really, really hard.  I worked with Julio [Bocca] really intensely on Swan Lake. Susan Jaffe [ABT’s new artistic director] brought him in to work with us. He really pushed me. And before we did a Swan Lake at Kennedy Center in February, Susan and I worked together every single day, breaking it down. And I had a couple of unexpected shows in Puerto Rico in April, filling in for Iana Salenko. It was nice to get more shows—we need more shows. I know Susan is really working on that.

How do you like working with Susan Jaffe? I know you had worked with her before, when she was a repertory director at ABT, back in 2010, 2011.

She actually taught me my very first Swan Lake, many years ago. She has such a good eye, but more than that, I think she has helped me to trust myself. She has even given me meditations to say. I know it sounds kind of woowoo but I’ll lie in bed and just say to myself, “I trust my body, I know that my body supports me in all of my endeavors.” It’s about manifesting trust in myself. It’s something I’ve struggled with. I think that’s why I couldn’t sleep. The other thing is that that Susan prioritizes the storytelling above all else. In DC, for example, I was disappointed in my Black Swan variation. I felt that  the technical elements were not what I had rehearsed and what I know I'm capable of. After the show, she came into my dressing room and said, “you know what, you told the story, and it was such a beautiful performance, and you should be so proud of it.” That security has helped me.

One thing I noticed in these performances is that you seemed to almost transcend the steps, which is such a wonderful thing to see onstage. The steps were so solid, you almost forgot about them. 

One thing I've been working on is being in the moment. I’ve been working on things that I can do to get me in the right headspace for that, and the biggest part is letting go of self-judgment. Because as soon as you start judging yourself, you're not in the present. And another big thing, always, is connecting with the music.

You’ve always been such a musical dancer. I noticed that in the performance of Romeo and Juliet I saw, in the balcony scene, the little series of piqués across the stage was so crisp, so on the music, it caused a very visceral reaction in me…

Well, my dad's a drummer. Growing up, he would always be practicing the drums, even in the car on the steering wheel, with his drum sticks. For me, it's always about connecting to the music, and that can get me into the zone that I need to be in. But also, when I worked with Alex [Alessandra Ferri] on that moment in the balcony scene, on those piqués, she really wanted me to go into my hip more, so you just sort of skim the floor. You almost don’t put weight on your foot. That and being completely one with the music.

It’s an impossible question, I’m sure, but what does it feel like to move to that Tchaikovsky score, or to Prokofiev?

It’s almost tactile at times. You feel the music in your body. When I sit on the bed in Romeo and Juliet and there is that beautiful rolling music, it’s like waves crashing over you. I can feel it crashing over my body.

It must help you to create that feeling of being Juliet, so hungry to experience things, so there for whatever life brings.

I'm so glad that you got that, because that was something Alex and I worked on a lot. She kept telling me, put your shoulders back, open your chest. Feel like you're completely open to life. One thing I've always struggled with a little bit in the nursery scene in Romeo and Juliet is the childishness of playing with a doll. And what Alessandra said was that Juliet's innocence isn’t about being a prude, or, you know, a simpleton. She's innocent in the sense that nothing bad has ever happened to her, and she doesn't believe that anything bad can happen to her. Physicalizing that idea with a very open-to-the-world posture really helps me.

After Swan Lake, with her partner Daniel Camargo. Photo courtesy Isabella Boylston.

There were these little moments in your performances that really stood out, and that seemed specific to you. Like when, at the end of the Black Swan pas de deux, you placed your whole hand on Siegfried’s [Daniel Camargo’s] face, before arching your back triumphantly. I don’t think I’d ever seen that.

That was totally unplanned. And I feel that's part of what I mean when I say that I felt I really embodied the character this time. I felt very empowered to try things, to listen to my instincts. Maybe I've gotten to a point where I feel I trust my instincts.

It’s sort of the piece that was missing. In the past, it felt like you let the dancing itself carry a lot of the character.

It’s the hardest piece. Also, I'm such a people pleaser, I think I was trying so hard to do the right thing that I was not giving my inner voice the respect it deserves.  Before, I had had glimpses of that feeling, but now it’s more consistent.

I also wondered whether that gesture, and that freedom, came out of simply reacting to your partner, Daniel Camargo. You seem to have a real trust and connection with your partners.

I feel that I am a pretty open person; I think I show a lot of vulnerability. And I think maybe just being open and vulnerable is what creates that connection. Sometimes I wish I weren’t so open and vulnerable. Because it makes me super sensitive, and very sensitive to people's opinions. But I think that for partnering, it's a huge asset. With Aran Bell, for example, in Romeo and Juliet, I think it worked so well because he’s very present onstage. He’s totally there. And he loves partnering. He prioritizes it and takes great pride in his partnering, and he’s also a nice guy, and humble. And that is so important because we only had thirty minutes of rehearsal. [Bell was replacing an injured Camargo in Romeo and Juliet.]

We talked about this earlier: the shortening of ABT’s seasons and reduction in the number of performances in the last few years. I think a recent Times piece said that performances are down by almost thirty percent from before the pandemic. How do you continue to develop your interpretations and your technique with so few performance opportunities?

It’s really hard because there's only so much you can do in the studio. There’s a whole other layer of development that can only be experienced through trying things onstage. So, for me, it has been critical to get opportunities outside of ABT. Last year I got to go to the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires and I did Romeo and Juliet there with Herman Cornejo; I got invited to Rome Opera and I did four shows of Don Q there. This year, I got to do the two Swan Lakes in Puerto Rico.

Rehearsing Don Quixote at the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma. Photo courtesy Isabella Boylston

Still, it’s not as much as you could be doing. Does it make you anxious?

I do feel anxious. Especially given how great I'm feel right now, I want to capitalize on this. It’s been a couple of rough years, but I do think things are coming back.

What roles are you hungry to dance, or choreographers you’re eager to work with?

I would love to do more Balanchine. And honestly, I’d love to keep working with Ratmansky [Alexei Ratmansky, who was choreographer-in-residence at ABT from 2009-2023]. And I’d like to do more dramatic roles—I’d love to do Manon again. And La Fille Mal Gardée [by Frederick Ashton]. It’s such a delight. And Sylvia!

In Ratmansky’s The Seasons, with James Whiteside. Photo by Rosalie O’Connor.

You have such an active life outside of ballet, with social media, and fashion, and your book club, and being an influencer. I feel like you’ve really embraced and harnessed the world outside of ballet and shaped a second identity, or a second profession. How do you navigate that, without letting it distract you from your dancing?

When the whole social media thing started out, it wasn’t very calculated. And then I realized that it could actually become a revenue stream, which is important. And then on top of that, I thought, this is a great way to get butts in seats at the ballet.  I want to share this art form with as many people as I can. So at that point it did become more of a calculated effort. I almost see social media as running my own tiny business. I mean, I make more money from my brand deals than I do from dancing.

It is a business. And of course I’m not surprised that so many dancers have a side business in social media, because dancers are also chronically underpaid. It is a way of taking charge of your professional life.

Definitely. I have a manager. And for the past couple of years it has actually been so successful that I've been able to hire Cy Doherty, a dancer at ABT who is a brilliant editor. He's so talented. He is basically my social media manager, and comes up with ideas and posts for me during the season. A lot of times I will delete Instagram from my phone, because I just want to focus. I collaborate with Cy, but he helps me so much. I pay him a monthly retainer. But I do feel that it has come at a price. Not that I’ve sacrificed any of my artistry or my focus on my craft at all—that’s a hard line for me. But I do feel I've probably sacrificed some of my personal life. I feel bad for Dan [Dan Shin, Boylston’s husband] sometimes. Because sometimes it gets hard to delineate where your life ends and your social media life begins. Experiences can become sort of transactional. I’ll be having a meal or be on vacation, and think “maybe I should be documenting this, because it would make such a great Carousel.” Deleting the apps from my phone, so I literally can’t look at them, and so I can totally focus on the here and now, has helped me so much.  I think everyone should do that periodically.

This sideline has also given you an entrée into other worlds, like fashion. Do you see yourself going in that direction one day after you stop dancing?

It’s hard to imagine that anything could ever fulfill me the way dancing does or that I could ever care about anything as much again. But I could see myself starting a business, being some sort of entrepreneur.

Do you ever think about life after dance?

Well, Dan and I are going to freeze embryos in November. It’s something I've been thinking about for a while. So far I haven't had the urge to have kids, and I can’t see wanting to put the breaks on my dancing. But it is something that I think about, so doing this is a way to keep options open for the future. And Dan is so supportive. He supports me in so many ways.

Hiking with her husband, Dan Shin, in Idaho. Photo courtesy Isabella Boylston

It’s not easy to be the partner of a performer, particularly a dancer.

It’s not. It’s so consuming, and so self-absorbed a lot of the time. Dan jokes that during the season he should take an extended vacation because I’m so anxious. But that’s all part of my process I guess. We started dating the summer that I did my first Odette/Odile. So he has been on the journey with me. But he's also so hilarious; I think that helps. And he's very athletic, so he really connects to the athletic side of dance and how similar it is to what professional athletes do.

I know you are a big reader, and you have your Ballerina Book Club. Do you read on a Kindle or paperback?

I have been staunchly anti-Kindle forever until this past year because Dan just started a new job and he has to wake up at 5:30 so I have to read with the lights off now. I hate it. I mean, I like it because I can read without the lights on but I love to underline things and go back over things. It's just not the same.

What are you reading now?

This isn’t a book club pick, but right now I’m reading Sex and Rage by Eve Babitz, it's a good hot girl summer read, but from the seventies.

Have you ever thought about writing?

I journal daily. I did a lot of creative writing when I was little, but less so lately. I think what James [Whiteside, Boylston’s close friend] did is so great, the way he wrote about his family [in his memoir, Center Center]. The easiest thing to write about would be my own life. Honestly, if I told the real story, it would be riveting. But I would never want to hurt anyone. It would be very tricky.

Some people write in a genre that is a combination of fiction and nonfiction.

Actually, I have a really good story in mind for that. Who knows, maybe I will write something one day.

Good! But for now, understandably, the focus is on your dancing. I wondered whether you could express what, at age 37, after being a principal for 10 years and a member of American Ballet Theatre for seventeen years, dancing means to you.

I think the reasons why I dance are still the same as when I first started. I love it. What I feel that dancing gives me, even if maybe it sounds ridiculous, is a connection to a higher power. It's that deep for me. And it's also really fun. And also really not fun sometimes. I think the not fun part comes because we care so much. We care so much that our feelings get hurt, and our bodies get hurt. But I’ve figured out what I need to do to stay healthy. It’s also my community, my people. There’s no one I'd rather spend time with, besides obviously Dan and my cat, than these people. They’re hilarious and they're amazing.

Boylston’s cat Jude, with one of her favorite tutus.