Growing up as the adoptive son of two artists living in the cultural hot spot that is the Berkshires, at a young age, I fell in love with dance. Seeing the Nutcracker in December of ‘93, at the age of three, I immediately enrolled myself in the Cantarella School of Dance the following spring. Not only was it an outlet for all the energy I had, but it also fostered within me a sense of belonging, a scope of focus, and an opportunity to find my voice. Not to mention it provided me with an environment in which, English being my second language, I was able to communicate through another medium.

Following my training at Cantarella, I continued to study under Darrell Pucciarello (Met Opera Ballet, Houston Ballet). Darrell allowed me the opportunity to discover my passion for choreography, giving me the chance to create works for our spring showcase performances.

Bringing my love of dance and choreography into more of my life, I set out a plan for my high school senior project to create a full (albeit small and short) production of “The Girl From Ipanema” by Antonio Carlos Jobim. It was a resounding success.

From high school, I landed a job with Ballet West as a trainee and performed with them in such productions as Anna Marie Holmes’ “Don Quixote”, Ashton’s “Cinderella”, and second company performances of “The Little Mermaid” and “Scheherazade And The 1001 Nights”.

During that time, I also spent two summers at the Boston Ballet’s Choreographic workshops, under the teachings of Jorma Elo and Helen Pickett, solidifying my passion for choreography.

It’s one thing to be a dancer and be given the choreography that you learn, rehearse, and eventually perform. (With any luck) But it is entirely another thing if you are the choreographer, finding the music, imagining/visualising the choreography, and then teaching it to your dancers. (You can also create the choreography first and then find music)

As a dancer, you can perform the movements the choreographer wants, but ultimately, at least in my view, understanding the piece as a whole, immersing yourself within the artistry is where the magic happens.

Being part of the Ballet you come to learn that everyone is part of a larger whole. If one person fails to execute the choreography appropriately and in time, the magic of the piece can be lost. Even to the untrained eye, one can usually discern a failed execution of movement, or a dancer out of line, or out of sync with the others. I believe it is also the duty of the choreographer to be able to impart their vision of the piece, its tone, its feel, its statement to their dancers.

Thus, you have a group of people working in tandem, in body, in mind, and in consciousness, to present a work that is only possible through cooperation and collaboration. It is a valuable life skill.

This brings me to my philosophy on dance and the artistic process.

Firstly, Art is never wrong. For the artist, Art is their truth, expression, and a part of their soul that they have worked and crafted to present. It can have something to say, or it doesn’t have to say anything at all. You, as the receiver, can appreciate it any way you want. That is the beauty of Art, it is for everyone.

The freedom of expression, something I think we all, as humans, can agree on, is so important these days. This is why I created Meta/Dance. To have a space where works can be created in a fostering and nurturing environment. Where one can explore oneself through the passion of dance and movement. After all, dance is one of the oldest forms of expression and communication.

– Ruslan Sprague