Today we’d like to introduce you to Amanda De Oliveira.
So, before we jump into specific questions, why don’t you give us some details about you and your story.
When I was a baby in Brazil, I had trouble walking (I would only walk on my tippy toes). On examining me, half as a joke and half as a prescription, an orthopedist advised my mom to enroll me in ballet classes. I was two at the time I started dancing and haven’t stopped since. I am definitely not shy but have always had an introverted side. When I was little, ballet therefore became a safe space for me to process and express myself. I was always drawn by the music, motivated by the challenge and ultimately fell in love with it because of the freedom I felt when speaking with my body. I loved that I could tell a story or convey a feeling in such a powerful way without even saying a word, and it was universally understood.
When I was 11, I moved to NY by myself and lived with a host family so I could study at the School of American Ballet (official school of the New York City Ballet). I’d say it was in that moment that I knew I was in it for the long haul. Sounds naive and romantic, perhaps, to know what you want to do in life at 11. Although I think there is something to be said about the merit of intuition and kids seem to be more fearless to follow it, I suppose they also have less to lose.
Two years later, I ended up switching to American Ballet Theatre’s school, where I culminated my training and bridged the gap to professional dancer. There I toured and danced in some of the most revered and iconic theatres and opera houses. It was a dream come true. But the dream quickly burst and brought my feet crashing down to the ground when I was forced to face a potentially career-ending injury. At that moment, I was only 20 years old but I was thrashed into the reality of having to reassess my whole future –– everything I had worked for truly my entire life and the reason I moved away from my family, friends, and home. At the time, I was completely distraught. I didn’t yet have enough life experience (or maturity) to have perspective. All I could see was the future I had always envisioned and invested so deeply to build evaporating into thin air. I couldn’t yet see how liberating it would be to get off this path that I had so narrowly carved for myself. I couldn’t yet see all the opportunities that would open themselves up to me as a result, nor the growth that I would experience upon exposing myself to different worlds. I didn’t know it then, but what felt like the most devastating moment in a budding ballerina’s career would have a significant and everlasting impact on the woman I am today.
During my injury, I fell into a deep depression, feeling lost and hopeless. After months of processing and ruminating, I was desperate to find a renewed sense of purpose. I became fascinated by the French nouvelle vague films, their philosophical nature resonated with the existentialism that had manifested in my own thoughts. I would spend days watching films, reading and journaling…voraciously consuming all these other mediums of art that I had suppressed when devoting myself piously to my own. My mind felt like it was a sponge absorbing and trying to hold on to everything it was soaking in. I then was anxious to start finding a way to express and process all these new feelings that had surfaced within me once I started questioning old thoughts. I turned to poetry first, then abstract painting and eventually made my way back to dance; but now as the painter rather than the canvas.
I began teaching quite a bit and took note of how fulfilled I began to feel. Through teaching, I began to have opportunities to choreograph and began to truly feel whole again. Teaching and choreographing emboldened me to find my own voice in my art form and cultivate an environment where I’m challenged in ways that support the growth I seek.
We’re always bombarded by how great it is to pursue your passion, etc – but we’ve spoken with enough people to know that it’s not always easy. Overall, would you say things have been easy for you?
It has not always been a smooth road but I feel fortunate for my path. My first grave injury was probably the first big roadblock that I had to face. In retrospect, it wasn’t the injury necessarily but rather the reality that I was forced to confront when injured. I realized in that moment that being in a ballet company, which had always been my dream, was perhaps not the pathway for me. In part because of my body rebelling against the demands and more prominently because it wasn’t the right environment for the growth I was procuring. If I wanted to be a professional ballet dancer that was known to be the only road to getting there and if that road wasn’t for me, what did that mean. Letting go of that romanticized ideology of what my future should look like and trusting my gut came with a lot of resistance. I was afraid…Afraid of facing the uncertainty that would wash over me, of never finding something else that I would be as passionate about and subsequently being filled with regret for not seeing how far I could go in this path. Although as I began to explore different avenues, I began to find pockets of that feeling I had been seeking. Teaching made me feel connected to my community in a more grounded way. I felt such a deep fulfillment passing on the knowledge that all my incredible teachers had generously passed down to me and seeing the growth in my students as a result. Through teaching, I also had my first opportunity to choreograph. Creating gave me the challenge and freedom I had been craving as well as an outlet to express my voice in a more purposeful way.
More recently, the pandemic has been challenging. My family is spread across the globe so not being able to see them or know when I will be able to again has been a huge source of anxiety. The pandemic has also disproportionally impacted the arts and I have felt the repercussions of that first hand. I had recently moved to California three weeks before the lockdown began. In my fourth week living here, the schools that I had recently joined faculty were forced to shut down and any prospective opportunity of networking and establishing myself as a choreographer here had come to a screeching halt. It was daunting, I had just began planting the seeds to grow my future here and before the soil could settle, I felt uprooted. As the weeks passed, I tried my best to adapt to what has become our “new normal.” I try to set some weekly goals and projects for myself to keep my mind busy and creative. I take a virtual class every morning (Mon-Fri.) from my former coaches in NY. My daily morning class has become a vital component to keeping me anchored and inspired. I have also been teaching through zoom, which has given me a way to re-establish a sense of normalcy. It has definitely had its challenges- not being in a studio (thus being limited in space and dimension) and not having that personal contact but ultimately, it has been wonderful to stay connected and also meet new students. Those limitations have pushed me to find creative solutions and has opened up my exposure to people that normally I wouldn’t have reached to. That fence has also morphed into a source of inspiration in a way. During this time, I co-directed, produced, choreographed and danced in my first experimental dance film titled “Inseparable.” I have also been able to do little choreography prompts with my students virtually which has given us a space to process and bond together.
We’d love to hear more about your work and what you are currently focused on. What else should we know?
Ballet is the core of my training as a dancer, teacher and choreographer. I was fortunate enough to learn from some of the best dancers and teachers in the world, all from different cultural backgrounds and pedagogy. Having that ample and diverse exposure throughout my training has cultivated me to be both versatile and open-minded, both as an artist and educator. When I moved to NY, I was first exposed to the Balanchine style which emphasizes musicality, dynamic and daring movement quality. In Los Angeles, I was coached by Yuri Grigoriev who was a graduate of the Bolshoi Ballet Academy instilling in me the strength, work ethic and artistry embedded in the Russian technique. Later at the ABT school, led by Franco De Vita and Raymond Lukens, I was introduced to both the French and Cecchetti (Italian) methods; which highlight purity and classicism. Under the guidance of my long time mentors and coaches, Irina Dvorovenko and Maxim Beloserkovsky, I was able to create my own style as an artist and approach as a teacher.
When I teach, I use my diverse knowledge to tailor an individual approach to each student. I don’t think there is a “one size fits all” when it comes to learning and I think that should translate to how the information is passed on.
Has luck played a meaningful role in your life and business?
I’ve had my fair share of both, although overall I’d consider myself to be pretty lucky. When I first got accepted to the School of American Ballet, I was almost unable to stay because I was too young to live in the school’s dorms and my whole family still lived in Brazil at the time. It was pure luck that my classmate’s mom overheard my mother’s conversation with the director of student life of the school. The next day she offered to host me for a year and that is how my journey came to be. Luck is the only logical explanation for how all those pieces came together so harmoniously in that very moment in time and became the springboard to my career.
Pricing:
- Private lesson (through zoom or socially distanced): $75 per hour
- Small group lesson (2-5 people): $35 per person
- Group lesson (5 or more): $20 per person
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.adeoliveira.com/
- Email: [email protected]
Image Credit:
Christian Klein, Annie Wang, Jamie Silverstein
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