If you lose a year in ballet, you lose a lot. It takes years of sacrifice and training to become a professional, and a dancer’s life is short.

For elite ballet dancers, a solid career lasts around 15 years – and that after about a decade of schooling. Could this break change the development of the dance generations?

“You are losing a year to a year and a half of your career that you will never get back,” said Jonathan Stafford, artistic director of the New York City Ballet. “It’s not that they can make up for it at the back end. Everyone will age at some point. “

Ballet dancers need mental toughness to prevail in ordinary times. But this collective break is unlike anything else they have experienced in their careers.

“It has to be brutal – physically and mentally,” Mikhail Baryshnikov said in an email. He remembered “tough tests” – times in his career when injuries had forced him to take off for a few months. “But it’s hard to imagine what it was like for dancers who were hit by the pandemic.”

How does a dancer stay motivated and challenged? Some have no jobs to return to and those who do not know when services will return to normal. And the clock keeps ticking.

“I can’t think of any point in my career that I’ll be dealt this card,” said Wendy Whelan, assistant artistic director of City Ballet, where she was a leading dancer for 30 years. “You take steps – up, up, up, up, up – and at no point do you want to be knocked off by any of these steps. When you get there, you want to hold on to it for as long as possible. “

Stafford said he was not concerned about dancers regaining their athleticism and quality of movement; He even believes her technique will be better because he works slower and focuses on the basics. But it will take time – months of classes and then rehearsals – to get them back to where they were last March.

Dancers are practical; This year has shown that they are also incredibly resilient. While the shutdown meant time for the performance, it also gave the dancers a chance to experience a life beyond their art, and many enjoyed the break. They take college classes or teach or have surgery because they know it’s time to relax. There are a lot of babies out and about.

“I am convinced they will come back rounder, more interesting and in some ways softer,” said Whelan, adding, “That time was so healthy. Unhappy and yet healthy.”

Like many dancers, Ashley Bouder, a director of the city ballet, sees both sides. “I definitely feel like I’ve lost a year and I want that back,” she said. At the same time she strives to give her dance a new approach.

For younger, less experienced dancers, there may be more uncertainty. Savannah Durham, a trainee at City Ballet, appeared to be on the verge of signing her Corps de Ballet contract when the pandemic hit. She went home to North Carolina and said she was separated from ballet. “The whole world felt hopeless,” she said. “Ballet is a little bubble, and we’re in this time where people are really, really hurt and people get sick and it’s really sad.”

What did this lost year mean? It has affected different levels of dancers in different ways. We spoke to three – Bouder, James Whiteside, and Durham – about how they handled it.

37-year-old Bouder, who is celebrating her 20th anniversary with the City Ballet, is far from finished. “I will definitely dance after 40,” she said. “I don’t just want to come back and retire.”

36-year-old Whiteside, director of the American Ballet Theater, is a pillar of the company that needs to be in tip-top shape. He lives for the visceral experience of being on stage and like Bouder has no plans to quit. “I am a pragmatic person and I will find or take advantage of the opportunities,” he said. “I think all dancers do this one way or another.”

And there is the talented trainee Durham, 20, whose year of doubt turned into a year of growth, both in her art and outside of it.

The biggest challenge was the confusing and persistent state of limbo. Durham spoke for all dancers and said best of all, “We hate waiting.”

Whiteside is in demand at the Ballet Theater. Its classic variations are high octane sprints; he lifts ballerinas as if they were feathers. His perfect sportiness enables him to be the versatile artist he is: modern or dashing, playful or tragic.

When the shutdown happened, he was initially in denial; then he knew he had to find a way to “make sure my body doesn’t deteriorate completely,” he said. “Ballet discipline really comes into play when it comes to difficult times.”

He knows that nothing compares to dancing nine hours a day. Right now, his body conditioning includes ballet classes and training – at home and with coach Joel Prouty – but to get back to three-act ballets, he needs to build stamina.

“We might look the same, but the muscles just fire differently,” said Whiteside. “For example, suppose you run a mile on day 1 in your fastest sprint. At the end of this mile, you feel like you are going to die. Do this for 30 days and by the 30th day you will be agitated but not feel like your lungs are going to fall out of your mouth, ”he said. “It’s exactly the same for dance.”

Whiteside, who loves performing and the camaraderie of ballet theater, said he felt he was missing out on an important part of his life. But the pandemic has not turned out to be as disastrous as he feared. “I know I can’t perform at the level I can currently perform forever, but it is unproductive to complain excessively about our reality.”

He said he set himself two tasks: “To maintain my body and to flex my creative muscles.”

His creativity doesn’t stop with ballet. During the pandemic he recorded the album “Bodega Bouquet” under his stage name JbDubs and wrote a book entitled “Center Center: A Funny, Sexy, Sad Almost-Memory of a Boy in Ballet” (expected in August).

He’s very proud of the book, a collection of essays on topics like coming out, dating, body image, and friendships. “I’m a ballet dancer,” he said. “I feel like a cheat, but I wrote every word.”

When the pandemic started, many dancers were eager to continue their training by whatever means necessary. Bouder turned her living room into a ballet studio. But she encountered a couple of mental obstacles. The mother of a 4-year-old daughter is a faculty member at Manhattan Youth Ballet and a student at Fordham University, where she is studying political science and organizational management. She burned out.

That changed in January when he judged the Youth America Grand Prix, a student ballet competition. She “saw all these children who did,” said Bouder. “They competed in masks. And they were amazing and they loved it and you could see their eyes smiling over the mask and how happy they were to be on stage. I thought you know what I have to start dancing again. “

She was particularly impressed by the 17- and 18-year-olds, the dancers who should have gotten work this year. Your future is uncertain. “I just thought it wasn’t mine,” she said. “I know what I’ll do after that. I’ll be back on stage at the New York City Ballet. Maybe I should act like that. “

The past year, she said, changed her. And as the summer went on, she even started running with her husband – something she never wanted to do when she was dancing; it made her calves too tight, which wasn’t good for jumping. “I had a fat day when you were just like that, ugh,” she said. “I turned to him and said, ‘Do you want to run? ‘And he said,’ Really, are you serious? Who are you?'”

And now she is busy with what she called her “Covid body” on Instagram. She gained 10 pounds which is manageable. “It’s hard when you close the fifth position and your legs just don’t fit the same way.” She said. “It’s really mentally and physically exhausting to know that I’ve gone through this transformation to a ‘normal’ body.”

For Bouder, the biggest change was the way she thought about her career, which has felt like a job in certain places over the past few years. She hated that. “This job is so hard,” she said. “Why should I do this if it’s a job? I think this pandemic made me realize that I want to go back to where I really love it. “

An apprenticeship year is a year of transition: from student to job, from teenager to adult. When the shutdown began, Durham took a breather, but when summer came she lost her motivation. She lived with her family in North Carolina; In New York she had lived in the dormitories of the School of American Ballet affiliated with the City Ballet. She needed her own place.

“I really felt like I was stuck in the middle,” she said. “I felt kind of nomadic and didn’t know where I was going. To be honest, it was a very sad time. “

Durham put ballet on hold and began exploring things she loved to do when she was younger. She read voraciously. She went for long walks, drew and did puzzles. She jumps tied up. Ballet requires a certain tunnel vision. “I really wanted to find out who I was outside of ballet,” she said. “What inspires me? This has been a personal journey all along. “

Upon learning that the school was reopening in the fall, Durham resumed her education, which led to further discoveries: instead of taking the Zoom ballet classes offered by the company, she began giving herself.

And she filmed herself dancing on her cell phone. “What I know now is that I think I’m going to move really big, but I would go back to the video and see, oh, that wasn’t that much at all,” she said. “It’s a correction I got from my teachers and then I saw myself on a video: I thought, OK, I understand. And that was it for a lot of things for me. “

Durham returned to Manhattan that fall, where she found an apartment with two dancers and even found some performance opportunities, including at the New York Choreographic Institute in Martha’s Vineyard and in Troy Schumacher’s haunted “Nutcracker” upstate. These performances, she said, gave dancers a lifeline.

Durham may have missed getting more time to dance with the company and, for the time being, their corps contract. But what she’s gained – confidence, a new way of looking at how she wants to dance, interests outside of ballet – can take years to develop, especially for a busy young dancer learning the ropes. “I’m in such a different place this year than last year and I think it’s because I have more balance in my life,” she said. “I can have ballet, but I can have other parts of myself.”

She continued, “In all honesty, I find it hard to say that I’ve lost something because I’ve learned so much all year. I’ve lost time with the company, but I don’t feel like I’ve lost the dance. “