Since the first moment I walked into the dance studio, I had been fascinated by that place where music and art came together to create a new form of beauty, a new language to express feelings and emotions based on movement, technique and rhythm. I was seven years old and I was just a little child whose eyes sparkled at the sight of new experiences to be tried, and I had no idea of what ballet was. I took my first ballet class as a game to play, but, you know, ballet has something magical inside, something you can not understand and that takes yourselves in a totally different world made of parquet and barres, tutus and shoes, stages and wings. So, it was simply a game, but it surely became something different to me, almost an obsession: I started seeing ballet dvds, reading books about dance and my parents started taking me to the theatre, when a company came in town, I even started to draw ballerinas on my exercise books at school (I remember tons of agendas and papers full of dancing characters).
I’ve always loved creating drafts with pencils and pens, and by the years my passion for drawing met my love for the ballet, and my works started to became real ballerinas with sparkling tutus and tiaras, and the pages of my school diaries became stages where these littles dancers could dance across the homework my teachers gave me.
At the beginning my technique was really poor, but when I saw a picture of “Classe de danse” (Edgar Degas, 1875) for the first time, I had been enchanted by that atmosphere on the toile, by that perfect line expressed by all the works of Degas. To say it with the famous words of the musical ‘Les Miserables‘, I was struck from the bones in a moment of breathless delight, and I decided to try to express that idea of the movement conveyed by ballet through my drawings inspired by real etoiles and by aspiring young dancers.
The subject of my works became Kitri, Odette, Aurora and Giselle, in poses during their variations. Their tutus started to become more and more elaborated and so their technique, their bodies and their proportions. Their legs became longer and hyperextended, their feet became more arched and pointed, and my intention evolved, becoming almost a purpose, a target: I wanted no more to draw beautiful clothes and pretty dancers, I wanted to show the right position of their legs, their arms and of their bodies in general. I wanted to show what were the muscles working in the position the dancer was represented in, the parts of the body involved in the harmony of the movement, and I wanted it to be direct.
Nowadays, my drawings collection counts about one thousand works, from ballet characters to contemporary pieces, because I want to represent dance in all the forms it can be composed by. Graceful princesses with their pointe shoes and tiaras as Auroras, faery dryads, strong and passional characters as Kitris and smiling Lises, but also dying swans, suffering Giselles and poisoned Nikiyas.
My drawings try to show harmony and grace, but also passion and movement, and all the elements a human body can express.
Since I posted my works on social networks, I have been harshly criticized for my skinny dancers, but I never wanted to create a model: we have to admit that the “ballerina’s shape” of these times is a flash and bones dancer but, anyway, it’s only my way of drawing, you may like it or not, it doesn’t mind. I create skinny ballerinas, and I like it and that’s the important thing because I want to be an artist, and as an artist I don’t draw what the others want me to draw, but I draw what I love the most.
I now attend the University of the Arts of London at Central Saint Martins in King’s Cross.