Danielle Muir: “There Is Room for Everybody to Shine”

The Australian-born ballerina of Staatsballett Berlin on finding her place in the company, working with Sharon Eyal, navigating injury and stage fright, writing fiction, and why dancers should never compare their journeys with anyone else’s.
In our conversation, Muir reflects on the experiences that have shaped her career: leaving home at sixteen, finding her place in a new country and company, working with very different directors, and discovering the particular artistic language of contemporary choreography. We also discuss the future of ballet audiences, the importance of social media and public outreach, and the lessons she would pass on to the next generation of dancers.
A life beyond the stage
You recently mentioned your injury. What does life look like for you at the moment, without performing ballet? How are you spending your time?
I’m just starting to train again. I have physiotherapy appointments every week, and I do a little ballet training with a private coach. At the moment, I’m gradually rebuilding my strength.
Outside ballet, I like to live a quiet life. I don’t do a lot, but I’m really passionate about writing, especially fiction for young people. I spend a lot of time writing or reading and enjoying being in my own space without having too many things to do or worry about.
You mentioned writing fiction. Have you published any books, or do you share your stories online?
I’ve published a few books on Amazon, so you can search for my name there. So far, I’ve self-published, but in the future, I would really like to be traditionally published.
My first book is called The Lucky Stone. It’s about a ballet student training at a ballet school, and it is partly inspired by my own life. There is also an element of magic in the story. The main character believes that a particular stone brings her good luck and helps her perform well. Without it, she thinks she won’t be able to do well. So the story explores that belief and the importance she attaches to the stone.
I have a couple of other books that aren’t about ballet dancers. They are more in the fantasy genre, with magic and similar elements.

You are also involved in creating your new online platform for dancers. How did that idea come about?
My husband had the idea because, particularly when you are a dancer in a ballet company and you aren’t a soloist or principal, you don’t necessarily receive much individual feedback from a coach.
The platform is called Ouvre. It allows dancers to receive feedback from other dancers and teachers anywhere in the world.
People can sign up as students, professional dancers or teachers. Teachers can offer critiques to dancers who send them videos of their work. They can provide corrections through voice messages, text, drawings, video and other formats.
As a student, you can choose any teacher you want, send them a video of something you have been working on, and receive detailed feedback from wherever they are in the world. It opens up so many possibilities for dancers to connect with one another.
Can dancers connect internationally?
Exactly. And there is also a section where people can discuss certain aspects of the ballet world anonymously.
For example, if you have an injury, you can talk about recovery or ask how other dancers have managed similar experiences. You can discuss career transitions, the difficulties of not being cast, or the different mental challenges that come with the profession.
It gives dancers a place to share their experiences honestly and support one another. In that sense, it is also a community.
I think it is important because there are different ways to build a career in dance now. Traditionally, if you wanted to teach or develop professionally, there were more limited options. Platforms like this make it easier to connect with people and explore different possibilities.
It is not only about ballet, either. There can be opportunities related to barre classes, other forms of movement, or even different creative fields. There are so many possibilities.
From Australia to London
You were born in Australia, then moved to London and eventually Berlin. That is quite a journey, especially considering how young you were when you left home. Why did you decide to move to London?
Actually, I had been offered a place at the Australian ballet school. It was in a different state from where I lived, so I would have had to move away from my family anyway, although not nearly as far.
Just before I was supposed to leave, my sister was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease. She was in hospital and in a wheelchair, and she went through a lot of health struggles. At that time, things were particularly difficult, and I didn’t want to leave my sister. So I decided to turn down the place at the Australian ballet school and stay at home with my family. During that year, my sister told me, “You can’t give up your dream for me. You have to do what you want to do.”
Then I was offered a scholarship to the Royal Ballet School. After that year, she encouraged me to go. She didn’t want me to give up that opportunity because of her circumstances. For me, the Royal Ballet School was one of the best schools I could possibly attend. It was an incredible opportunity, and that is why I decided to go.

Were you frightened by the idea of moving so far away? I moved to Berlin when I was twenty-eight and experienced a lot of anxiety. You were only sixteen. Did you move alone?
My mum came with me to help me move everything in, but then she left, and I stayed there alone.
To be honest, I think being young actually helped me. When you are young, you don’t necessarily overthink things as much. I loved dancing so much that I wasn’t really thinking about what I was leaving behind or what might happen in the future. I was just excited to go to the Royal Ballet School and follow my dreams.
Of course, I missed my family a lot. But I was so excited about the opportunity that it helped me get through everything. If I had moved when I was older, I think I would have been more afraid and experienced more anxiety. Being young made it a little easier.
The excitement overcame everything and, of course, I didn’t know I would be away for such a long time. You don’t really think about when you will come back, or whether you will come back.
After your studies in London, did you stay there to work, or did you move directly to Berlin?
I went to school in London, and afterwards I auditioned for different companies. I eventually chose the one that felt right for me. When I auditioned for Staatsballett Berlin, I had a feeling about it. It had the right vibe for me, so I followed my gut feeling.

Life as a student in London
London has a particular reputation. People often imagine a city of grey skies and rain, where everyone is exceptionally polite and disciplined. Was that your experience?
Weather-wise, I would say it is quite often grey and rainy, but I actually enjoy that kind of weather, so I liked it.
The people may be more polite than they are here in Berlin and, of course, communicating was easier because English is my mother tongue. In that respect, the experience was more similar to Australia.
I really enjoyed living in London, although I think my experience as a student was very different from what it might have been if I had moved there as an adult to work. I lived with other students from my class. We were all in the same apartment building, with around five or six people in each apartment, and the school was just down the road. We were almost in a little bubble together.
Almost like a student dormitory?
Exactly. We were surrounded by people our own age who were going through the same experiences. It was a very particular environment.
Were there any surprises when it came to the teaching methods? You were trained in London, whereas dancers from Russia, for example, often describe a very demanding and sometimes harsh educational system. Did you notice differences?
Ironically, my teacher during my first year at the Royal Ballet School was Russian. The funny thing was that she was really nice. She could be tough, but she was also very sweet. In fact, I found that my British teachers were harsher than my Russian teacher.
The boys' teacher was from Estonia and Russian trained. He was extremely tough on the boys. Quite often, somebody would be kicked out of class or shouted at.
In my second and third years, we had British teachers. I think they were probably much nicer than some Russian teachers, but they could still be very demanding. In my third year, particularly, the teacher was very strict. She pushed us hard, even when we were tired or in pain.
I found that difficult at times. I remember having days when I was in pain and crying, while the teacher was telling me to keep going and deal with it.
Perhaps they were preparing you for professional life?
I think so, to an extent. You do need resilience. You need to develop a thick skin and learn how to get through difficult periods, and it can be helpful to develop that strength when you are young but, of course, that should never mean allowing people to be abusive. I think it is important to have high standards without creating an environment where people feel they have to fight one another all the time.

Five different eras at Staatsballett Berlin
When you arrived in Berlin, what surprised you most about the city and your new professional life?
The biggest shock was probably the loneliness. At school, I had been surrounded by friends all day, every day. We were the same age and going through the same stage of life. Then I came to Berlin without knowing anyone, in a new country and speaking a new language. For the first time, I was really on my own. When I was sixteen and moved away from my family, I was still surrounded by friends. In Berlin, it took me much longer to find that kind of connection.
I’m a very shy and introverted person, so making friends doesn’t always come easily to me. It took a long time before I felt comfortable, at home, and as though I had people around me.
That was probably the hardest part.
You have experienced several different artistic directors during your time with Staatsballett Berlin. How did those changes affect your career?
It has been very different with every director.
When I joined the company under Vladimir Malakhov, two other girls joined at the same time. During the season, there were open auditions for the following season under Nacho Duato. Because we had been in the company for such a short time, he asked all three of us to audition again rather than simply giving us contracts. Unfortunately, he didn’t take the other two girls, so they left after one year. Luckily, he accepted me into the company again.
Because it was his last season, he may already have been a little less strict than he had been previously. I can’t really say. During class, he would often take the class himself and demonstrate the exercises. I remember him sometimes being present during stage rehearsals, too. If someone was out of line or doing something wrong, he might call something out over the microphone quite bluntly. But I didn’t have many bad experiences with him. I simply wasn’t there long enough to form a very strong impression of what he was like as a director.

With Nacho, things went well for me. He liked me, and during his time I was promoted to demi-soloist and had more opportunities to dance. Nacho was very much an artist. His creations seemed to be the most important thing to him: expressing something, creating something, and communicating through his work. He seemed to have very intense emotions. There was something of the tortured artist about him.
After him came Johannes Öhman. That period was more difficult for me because I felt that he wasn’t as interested in me artistically. I felt a little stuck. I think I went about seven years without receiving another promotion, and eventually I began to think that perhaps I wasn’t going to progress any further.
Then Christian Spuck came, and things started to improve again. He liked me, and suddenly I began to receive more opportunities. Christian is also an artist and creates his own pieces, but I think he is very good at the business side of directing a company as well. He seems to bring everything together.
With Nacho, the environment felt a little more chaotic and less organised, but also very creative. It was a different experience from working with Christian.
I really enjoyed my time with Nacho, and I enjoy working with Christian now. They are two very different experiences, but both have been important to me.
So my career has been a bit of a roller coaster, depending on who was directing the company. It feels like five different eras, all within the same company.
It is fascinating that you can be the same dancer, with the same technique and experience, but a new director sees you completely differently.
Exactly. You spend years working towards a certain point, and you feel that you have established your place in the company. People know what you can do. Then someone new arrives, and it feels as though you have to start again from the beginning. You have to prove yourself all over again. It can be strange because you haven’t necessarily changed, but the person looking at you has changed.

Finding an artistic connection with Sharon Eyal
You are now particularly associated with contemporary ballet, especially the works of Sharon Eyal. How did that relationship begin? Was it something you actively pursued, or did it happen by chance?
It happened quite naturally. The director chooses which choreographers come to the company, and then the company decides which dancers will learn the work.
My connection with Sharon's work was therefore somewhat accidental. But from the very first rehearsal, I immediately fell in love with her choreography. Since then, I have always looked forward to working with her and performing her pieces. She has become one of my all-time favourite choreographers to work with.
You have also become a recognisable face in many of her productions, often taking the leading role. What does it feel like to be at the centre of the audience's attention?
It always feels special when someone sees something in you that they want to bring into the spotlight. We spend so much time working hard, so it feels wonderful when someone recognises that work and wants to give you an opportunity.
Being in the focus has also helped me grow in confidence as a performer. For example, in Two Chapters Love, I begin on stage by myself. You feel responsible for the piece in a way, and you have to learn how to command the stage. Those experiences have helped me grow enormously in confidence as an artist.
Contemporary choreography can sometimes be difficult for dancers because the process is less structured than classical ballet. Some people complain that Sharon Eyal doesn't always explain exactly what she wants. How do you experience her working process?
I think Sharon knows what she wants, but sometimes she needs to see it physically in front of her before she knows exactly what it is.
She will try different things, and she won't be satisfied until she sees what she has been imagining. But she can't necessarily explain in advance what it is she wants. She has to experiment until she gets there.
A lot of the time, she improvises, and the dancers film her. Then we learn the movements from the videos.
Once we know the steps, she starts orchestrating us. She might tell us to keep doing a particular movement, travel in a different direction, return to a previous step, repeat something, or move into a particular formation. She gradually puts everything together until she sees the vision she has in mind.
It's not a particularly structured process, and you never know how long it will take to get there. You just have to be open to the process.
Sometimes everything doesn't come together until the days before the performance. There are moments when you feel a little lost, but once it comes together, it really works.
That is quite different from classical ballet, where the choreography is generally set out clearly and the dancers work on executing it. With contemporary choreography, you may not know what the final product will look like until quite late in the process.
Exactly. Sometimes everything doesn't come together until the days just before a performance. There are moments when you feel a little lost, but eventually it can come together. You have to remain flexible and trust the process.
Some critics say that Sharon Eyal's works look similar to one another. What would you say to that?
You could say the same thing about any choreographer. Classical ballet uses recurring steps and formulas, too. Every choreographer has a particular style. William Forsythe has his own style, and Sharon has hers. I think her style is extremely unique.
There are similarities between her pieces, but each one creates a different experience for the audience. I think a big part of what audiences come to see in her choreography is the tension she builds. There is almost an adrenaline rush that you experience while watching it. So, yes, you can recognise her style, but every performance offers its own unique experience.
Which of her works is your favourite?
Overall, I think Half Life is probably my favourite. It is such a powerful piece, both for the dancers and for the audience. The tension Sharon creates is extraordinary.
As a dancer, though, I would find it difficult to choose between Half Life and Two Chapters Love. The latter is especially meaningful to me personally, while Half Life creates something very special through the whole group and the audience together.
I love all the pieces of hers that I have performed, but in different ways. Each one has been special to me and, of course, I am looking forward to the next one.
Does Sharon explain what her pieces are about, or are they primarily built around moods, sensations and emotions?
I think she probably has her own story in mind, but she doesn't necessarily tell it to the dancers. Instead, she communicates her ideas through the way she describes the movements. There may not be one specific story behind a piece, but there is imagery associated with the movements. I think you can create your own story when you watch or perform her work. I usually develop my own interpretation.
The way she demonstrates a movement or describes it helps you understand what she wants. She might say that you should feel as though you are wearing heavy jewellery, or that you have paint on your skin, or that you are trying to turn yourself inside out. Those images change the way you approach the movement. They help you create a story through the choreography.
Her works are also extremely physically demanding. Has that become easier with experience?
It has become easier in some ways, but Half Life is always exhausting, even after many performances. You have to count throughout the piece. If you stop counting, you lose track of the choreography, and it becomes difficult to keep everything together.
At the beginning, it was stressful to make sure I was counting correctly, staying on the right beat and remaining in sync with everyone else.
Eventually, you become more comfortable with the structure, and you learn to trust the other people on stage. You begin helping one another, and that makes it easier. But the piece is still physically demanding.

The electronic music in Sharon Eyal's work also feels very connected to Berlin's club culture. The repetition and the gradual building of tension can almost resemble a techno performance. Do you enjoy that kind of music yourself?
It isn't usually the kind of music I would choose to listen to in my free time. Clubbing isn't really my thing. But when you are on stage and the music is coming through the speakers, you can almost feel it inside your body. It beats with your heart and pumps through your blood. You become completely immersed in the piece. Every part of you feels connected to the music, the movement and the environment.
I think it works particularly well with Sharon's choreography because of the repetitive movements and the repetitive sounds. Everything comes together. I can understand why audiences enjoy it so much when they experience it in the theatre.
It also reminds me of Boléro in the way repetition builds towards a climax, almost like a ritual.
Yes, there is something about that repetition and the way it develops. The physical movement and the music reinforce each other, creating a particular experience.
Are there other contemporary choreographers whose work you particularly enjoy?
One of my favourite pieces ever is Cacti by Alexander Ekman. It was such a fun piece to perform, and the rehearsal process was fun, too. Unfortunately, we didn't perform it very many times. We only had a relatively short run, which was a shame.
But for me, it isn't necessarily about having a list of favourite choreographers. The experience of doing the work matters enormously. I love the process of learning a piece, preparing it for performance, and discovering what it becomes along the way. It is difficult to know how much you will enjoy a choreographer's work until you have actually experienced that process.
Do you ever feel that you miss out on classical ballet because you perform so much contemporary work? Would you like to dance more classical roles?
Of course, I also want to dance classical roles, but I do receive those opportunities. Before my injury, I was supposed to make my debut as Odile in Swan Lake. Unfortunately, my injury happened just before that, so I couldn't do it. I think the opportunities are there. It is partly a question of timing, and I simply haven't had as many chances to do certain roles as I would have liked.
There is also a belief that dancers who perform contemporary ballet for a long time need to readjust when they return to classical ballet. Some people even say that their muscles change. Have you experienced that?
Not really, because we do contemporary and classical work together. One evening we might perform a classical production, and the next evening we might perform Sharon's work. We are rehearsing both styles regularly, and I still take ballet class every day. I think having that mix is wonderful because the two styles complement each other.
Classical ballet gives you the technique, the lines, the feet, the strength and the stability that you need for contemporary work. Contemporary dance gives you a different kind of freedom and artistry that you can bring back into classical ballet. I think they help each other.
Perhaps it is more challenging in companies where the repertoire is divided into blocks. If you perform only contemporary works for ten evenings or longer and then switch to a block of classical ballet, it might be harder to adjust. If you do only one style for a long time, returning to the other can certainly be more challenging.

Dancing on a moving ship
I wanted to return to an unusual initiative from Staatsballett Berlin: the performances on a boat travelling along the river. I remember seeing dancers performing while the boat was moving. Why do you think the initiative disappeared?
I don't know the specific reason why we haven't done it again. I think the idea came from Christiane Theobald, who was the General Director of the company at the time. During the COVID period, audiences couldn't come to the theatre, so the initiative offered a way for the general public to see performances. It was also a way to bring ballet to people outside the theatre and promote the company.
It was a lovely idea because people could encounter ballet in a completely different setting. What was it like to dance on a moving ship?
It was a really unique experience, but also fun. It was something different from our usual routine, and it was exciting to be outside and see all the people watching us. Normally, you don't really see the audience in the same way. On the boat, the people were out there, watching from the riverbanks and surroundings. It felt unusual, but enjoyable.
The repertoire was chosen carefully. We performed contemporary pieces or relatively simple works. There was a version of Swan Lake, for example, but only the corps de ballet performed and some steps were simplified, rather than doing the most technically demanding choreography. They weren't doing difficult pirouettes, big jumps or anything that would have been especially challenging on a moving surface.
In terms of stability, I didn't really experience many problems. There may have been a few rough moments, but the boat moved very smoothly. There weren't many waves, it travelled slowly, and there were no sudden movements.
So you would like to see the initiative return?
Yes, absolutely. I would love to see it come back, it was a really nice initiative.
How can ballet attract new audiences?
This brings me to a broader question. What do you think are the best ways to attract audiences to ballet today? Do we need to change productions to appeal to new generations, or do we already have an audience that is happy with the traditional repertoire?
It is a difficult question. I think one thing people enjoy, especially these days, is seeing more behind-the-scenes content. They want to know who the dancers are and what goes into making a production.
Social media makes it very easy for people to see content from a company without even having to go to the theatre. For example, the Royal Ballet creates its Insight videos, filming rehearsals and uploading them to YouTube. Anyone with an internet connection or a phone can watch them. It allows people to see not just the finished product but also the work that goes into it and the people involved. I think that can make them more interested in attending a performance because they already feel connected to the production.
We do some of that at Staatsballett Berlin, too, with trailers and behind-the-scenes videos before a production opens. But I think we could do more. We should really use social media to our advantage. The Royal Ballet does that very well.

They also follow trends and share funny moments, rather than only posting serious rehearsal footage.
Exactly. That kind of content can make ballet feel more accessible and help audiences connect with the dancers as people. I think it is important to show different sides of the company.
Some directors argue that productions need to be modernised to bring them closer to contemporary audiences. In opera, for example, directors sometimes move the action from an ancient setting into a modern one. But these choices can also alienate traditional audiences. How do you think companies should find the right balance?
It is difficult to say exactly what the answer is. I think it is important to understand what audiences actually want, but I don't know whether every company always gets that balance right. For me, showing more of the people behind the productions and the process itself is one useful approach. It can help people understand the work without necessarily changing the production.
Would you like to see more public conversations with dancers and more of those conversations shared online?
Yes. I think that would be a good idea. The Royal Ballet recently shared a video in which children asked one of the dancers questions. I thought that was really nice because children often ask such interesting and creative questions. Things like that can help young people become interested in ballet.

You have also taken part in conversations with schoolchildren.
Yes, although those events were related to my books. I took part in a couple of readings for English classes, where I read from my book and the children asked me questions. Naturally, they also asked questions about ballet. I think it would be nice for more dancers from the company to visit schools and talk about their work.
The company already organises public talks, but not everyone can attend. Some events take place in the morning on working days. Recording and sharing them online would allow more people to watch.
Exactly. If the conversation has already taken place, it would be wonderful to record it so that people who couldn't be there can still watch it.
There are other creative ways of opening theatre spaces to the public. In Zurich, for example, I heard about an initiative where people could sleep on the stage in sleeping bags and do yoga there the following morning.
That sounds really cool. I like that idea. It is a very creative way of letting people experience a theatre space differently.
Berlin has also organised open days when people can see different spaces in the theatre and try on costumes.
Yes, those kinds of initiatives are nice because they allow people to experience something they wouldn't normally see.
What about World Ballet Day? I was wondering why we haven't had it every year.
I know that we haven't done it every year. I think we've only participated a couple of times, and even when we did, our contribution was quite limited. It would be nice to share more content for World Ballet Day. I think it is a really good initiative, and there is so much we could show. I'm not sure why we haven't done it more often, but I would certainly like to see more of it.

The importance of a quiet life
Away from ballet, you mentioned that you enjoy writing and reading. What else brings you joy?
I really love spending time with my husband. Neither of us is particularly social, so we enjoy being together and doing quiet, simple things.
I'm not someone who is especially adventurous or outgoing. I like being calm and quiet, in my own safe space, whether that is with my husband or talking to my family on the phone. When I have free time, I usually write, read or do something simple. I enjoy having a quiet life.
I imagine that this need for privacy is understandable when your professional life involves constantly being seen by the public and spending so much time around other people.
Yes, although I have always been like this. When I was a child, my mum used to say that hours could pass while I was quietly sitting in my room. I would be so quiet that she sometimes had to come and check whether I was all right but I would simply be playing by myself. I've always been quite introverted and enjoyed having my own space.
It is interesting that so many artists describe themselves as introverts, even though their work requires them to perform in front of an audience. How do you reconcile those two sides of yourself?
When you are on stage, you don't really see the audience. Sometimes you almost don't know that they are there. You are in your own bubble, focused on what you are doing. At the end, the lights may come up and you see the people, but during the performance, you can be so immersed in the work that you don't notice much else. For me, dancing was never about wanting to be a performer or wanting people to watch me. I simply loved the feeling of dancing.
Actually, when I was a child, I had terrible stage fright. I didn't like being in front of an audience, but I loved dancing so much that I wanted to keep doing it. I realised that if I wanted to be a dancer, I would have to perform in front of people, so I would have to find a way to deal with it.

Learning to manage stage fright
How did you overcome your fear of performing?
It took a really long time. I was still struggling with stage fright when I first joined the company in Berlin. I had to work on my mind every day, just as I worked on my technique every day.
A particularly important part of that was the way I talked to myself in my mind before performances. It was about changing my mindset and learning how to deal with the nerves. It took a long time to become better at managing them.
I think a certain amount of nervousness, butterflies and excitement is really good. I like that feeling. But when it becomes fear, it can get in the way of enjoying the performance. That is why you need to find a way to manage it so that it doesn't become overwhelming or take away from the joy of what you are doing.
Advice to young dancers
Finally, what advice would you give to young dancers who are just starting their careers?
The most important thing is to hold on to the love of what you do.
Ballet can become really difficult, stressful and painful at times. You have to remember why you chose to do it in the first place. Remember the simple love of dancing itself.
Another thing I think is really important is not to compare your journey with anyone else's. Someone who is the same age as you might join a company and be promoted to principal very quickly. Everything may seem to happen easily for them. For someone else, it may take much longer. But you are on your own path. Just because your journey is different doesn't mean you won't reach your goals. You are doing things in your own time and in your own way.
I also think it is important not to try to be somebody else. You have to discover what is special about you and really embrace that. There is room for everybody to shine and for everyone's dreams to come true. You just have to focus on yourself and your own path.
That is a wonderful message to end on. Thank you so much for the conversation.
We would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to Butter Pilates for their warm hospitality, for providing such a beautiful space, and for this wonderful collaboration. It was a pleasure working together!
Photo by Iker Ugal & Julia Pneva
Location: Butter Pilates
Journalist: Julia Pneva

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