Words by Maria Sidelnikova

Sharon Eyal: “Through dance, you can experience something so powerful that no words could ever express it”

Sharon Eyal doesn’t make dances. She creates entire worlds. Dark, hypnotic, and sensual her pieces pull audiences into a state between ecstasy and vulnerability. Drawing from ballet, club culture, repetition, and raw human emotion, she has developed a movement language that is entirely her own. We spoke to one of the most influential voices in contemporary dance in our new issue #41 AT PEACE.

Maria Sidelnikova: Being at peace – what does it mean to you? Where do you feel it in your body?

Sharon Eyal: Peace is a big word. Being at peace with myself, my body, my energy… it’s about understanding that what we have is a blessing and saying thank you for it. Every moment can change. I think peace, for me, is the freedom to be myself.

But often art doesn’t come from harmony at all. Do you think it’s actually productive for creative people to be at peace with themselves?

I’m not thinking about how creative I am. I just do what I do, and I love it. I need to do it. It’s more about how much I want to do it, and to share it with people.

Why do you dance?

It’s not a question for me. It’s like needing to eat – it’s always been in my skin, in my blood. Something I have to do.

Do you remember how it started?

I was a very active child. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat well. My parents found a dance class for me. When I started, I felt much calmer. It was improvisation at first, then ballet.

Classical ballet isn’t about freedom by nature…

… but I always did it my way and enjoyed it. I love ballet.

When it comes to your company, do performers need a ballet background, or not necessarily? What kind of performers are you looking for?

I need dancers I truly connect with. Some have been with me for 13 years, others for less. Technique is important – I’m passionate about it – but their overall presence, feeling, and purity are equally important. It’s not about how much ballet they’ve learned, but about the finesse and honesty in their movements. They need to be highly trained, yet remember they are just a baby, that they don’t know everything, because I ask them to be honest in the pieces, to be themselves.

Some dancers left major classical companies in search of freedom, and it’s fascinating to see how your language can transform the approach to the body.

It’s a process – a process of life, of going deeper and simply being yourself. Ballet is just a name; even in classical dance, you don’t need to try to be someone else. You can be yourself anywhere. But my pieces are not about freedom at all. They are very strict: the composition, the counts, there’s no place for improvisation. It has to be crazy precise. What is free is the interpretation and in the layers the dancer adds afterward. Everything comes from me, but I work with these beautiful people and with things that give me inspiration.

What else inspires you?

Life. Love. They are one and the same for me.

OCD Love, followed by Love Chapter 2 and The Brutal Journey of the Heart, is a cycle exploring love that has achieved global success and became your signature work. In it, love is far from a peaceful state – it resonates more like obsession. How did this journey begin?

Love is basic. The obsession is not about love itself, but with life, experiences, and moments.

You never explain your pieces, even to the dancers. Sometimes you work with images, often taken from nature. Can you tell us about your creative process?

I dance first. The rehearsal director films it, and then the dancers learn from the recording. I write a lot – you could call it a dance score – but mostly I work through movement. I discover it physically, and in the moment, I shape and organize it on the spot.

When you improvise, what kind of images or visions appear in your mind? What are you thinking about?

I’m not thinking. I feel… a lot.

Not every contemporary choreographer can claim to have an own language. Your language, Sharon, is a whole recognizable world, unlike anyone else’s, full of pulsations and allusions. Some see sexuality in it, others see birds, and others feel something frightening. How does such a new language come to life? Where does it emerge in your body?

Honestly, I don’t really know. It comes from my love for ballet and also for old-fashioned things. It’s more about sensation than conscious thinking. It’s also a combination of many things: minimalism and extremity, maximum and minimum, loops, repeated elements that become elements themselves. All of this together creates the world I work in. For me, it’s very sensual and very human, yet at the same time, not entirely human. It’s also connected to memory, to old and to new, to something far away, almost like a smell – something that you can feel but not touch. In it, you can sense birds, penguins, sexiness, memories – everything merges. You can feel everything.

You promised a ballet en pointe, is that still in the plans? That will completely change your language, won’t it?

I will do it. You will see. I don’t know exactly when, but I will. And that’s what makes it interesting – everything will change. That’s what I love: the change, the challenge of it.

You also do choreography for other companies, including Nederlands Dans Theater, the Paris Opera Ballet, and Göteborgs Operans Danskompani. How does your approach change when you’re working with dancers who aren’t part of your own company?

I love my dancers, and I love working with other dancers. It’s just a different approach. With my own company, I’ve known them for so long – there’s continuity, a depth that comes from long-term collaboration. With another company, it’s different: I get to discover amazing dancers and incredible moments, which brings new energy.

How do you feel about being a woman choreographer in what is still a very male-dominated world?

Very natural. I don’t know anything else, so it’s good that I’m doing it.

You always have your husband, Gay Behar, by your side. What does he bring to your work, and what does your work bring to your relationship?

I love him. He’s my favorite person. I trust him completely. We’re always working together, and I like having him by my side. We have different backgrounds and ways of seeing things, which is very productive. He’s also the manager of the company, and we have a very strong team around us. I’d say he is containing, and I’m wild – together, it works beautifully.

Your daughter has joined you recently. Does it feel like a family enterprise now?

Maybe. Noa does makeup and nails, and she created bijoux and nails for Delay the Sadness. Sometimes she helps with other tasks, too.

You’ve moved to France, but you live outside of Paris. What was your motivation? Why did you choose to live outside the city?

First of all, my husband is half French, and a lot of his family is here. I love Paris, and I love art. People respect and welcome us, and we have strong connections. There are so many art and fashion places I enjoy. We live outside Paris, in nature. Maybe one day we’ll move to the city, but for now, this environment suits my work – especially for improvisation. I also work with many companies across Europe, so having this space makes things easier.

How do you feel when someone criticizes you?

It’s hard. But I don’t know how to be anyone else. This is what I am. This is what I can do. I believe in it and I really go with it. I’m sensitive, so it’s not easy, but it’s necessary for me.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

Not to judge myself so much.

Because you were hard on yourself?

Yes, I still am.

How do you work with that?

I create and do what I love. I’m also a mother, so I try to be complete with myself, to be better for my family.

What kind of mother are you? Do you try to lead by example for your children?

I’m just there for them. I love them, and I’m present. It’s not really about setting an example. I just… I’m there. We love to dance and we love music – my son is into music, my daughter does nails – creativity is a part of our family life.

And what do you advise your future self?

Also not to judge myself so much.

Would you like to add anything?

Honestly, I don’t like to speak too much. I love to dance and share. When I speak, I feel it’s not my strength, I feel limited somehow. Because when you come and see, you can experience something so strong that no words can ever express it.

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