Since 2001, Amy Aldridge has distinguished herself as one of Pennsylvania Ballet's regal principal dancers. Her career with the company goes back 20 years if you include her initial apprenticeship.
Aldridge's astounding gracefulness and her ability to embody the personality of her characters have made her an audience favorite. But the exquisite beauty of her work masks a hard reality: Dancing is a tough, tough business. Ballerinas sign only year-to-year contracts, are prone to injuries that last for seasons and rarely enjoy careers that extend to their 40th birthday.
Virginia-born Aldridge is dancing the "Rubies" section of George Balanchine's "Jewels," which opened the company's 50th season Thursday.
Daily News arts contributor Tom Di Nardo caught up with her between rehearsals to discuss what it takes to push the human body to its limits of strength and grace. You can watch her do that at the Academy of Music in the Saturday evening and Sunday matinee peformances of "Jewels" next weekend .
Q When did you realize that dancing was your career?
I used to swim competitively until I was 12, and was interested in both equally. But swimming made my back and neck so broad that I had to make the choice.
Everything in my gut said it was the right one, though I'm still very competitive whenever I get in the pool.
Q What don't audiences realize about what you do?
They only see the beautiful and think we're just floating around, but to get to that place takes so much pain. They don't realize how challenging it can be on your mind, as well as your body.
It's hard not to feel flawed as a person when you're not always perfect. We're human beings, not machines, and how you fix it, how you save it on the spot without notice, that's the magic, that's the work of a true artist.
In a high-energy ballet, it's hard to go home and be a normal person. I just stare at the wall, because it took all the energy out of me.
If there's a lot of dancing en pointe, sometimes I can't even put my street shoes on, and my toes hurt
so much I can't stand the sheets touching them.
For this show, I'm taking a lot of Epsom salt baths.
Q How aware of the audience are you when you're dancing?
I don't see them at all. It's just a big, black sea. In "Slaughter on Tenth Avenue," which I have danced three times, there's a fun moment where you point to someone in the front row, but other than that, I don't see anybody. If I focus on someone, I lose my own focus.
Q How do you hold all those steps in your head, and your feet?
I never get lost when there's music to relate to, I'm a pretty musical dancer who usually gets a rhythm for all the steps. In some harder ballets you have to count all the time instead of listening to the music - 10, 12, 8, you keep counting, but it can get distracting. Counting over and over keeps me up at night.
Q Because of all the times you're lifted, do you have to be concerned about what you eat?
Each dancer is different. I don't eat red meat, but I don't deprive myself of anything I like, just eat healthy and have a little chocolate every day. My one thing I will never give up is Doritos. I could make a meal of snacks.
Sometimes a dancer is asked to put on a little weight, or lose some, depending on the role. It's only a very small amount, but an athletic build may need to be a bit softer, more feminine, or vice versa.
Q How do you look back at your career?
I've been dancing in Philadelphia for 20 years, more than half of my life, giving a huge part of myself to the city and have received a lot back. I would never give anything less than my absolute best.