Today we’d like to introduce you to Kristalyn Gill

Hi Kristalyn, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?

Telling my story is like taking a sheet of printer paper, closing my eyes, blasting through its sheer expanse with a hole-puncher and black sharpie all before opening my eyes and using thumbtacks to showcase it on a local bulletin board. It’s beautifully chaotic.

I identify much of my story in the words of Ocean Vuong when he stated, “And maybe that’s all I wanted – to be asked a question and have it cover me, like a roof the width of myself.”

In essence, I have lived through many phases of experimentation, embracing the multi-hyphenate lifestyle of a woman with a buffet of interests. My upbringing was a whirling buffet of after-school activities (soccer, softball, competitive cheerleading, school plays, dance classes, and competing in Miss America Organizational preliminaries). Both my mother and father are curious beings. Their hunger exploring the breadth of life was infectious, and they encouraged me to dip my toes into whatever fascinated me. I chose to study dance and journalism in school because of my fascination for just how much I actually DIDN’T know about these fields. After graduating from East Carolina University with degrees in Dance Performance (BFA) and Interpersonal Communication (BS), I hurled myself into various jobs to see what clicked. I worked as a marketing coordinator for a brewery, a social media assistant, and retail employee.

I found myself married at 22 to my best friend and moving to Portland, OR with no professional plans, just an itch to train and to be malleable to the arts community I would find there. Suddenly, I began choreographing and teaching, taking my work to multiple national arts festivals. I published my first poetry book, becoming an author. Two years later, we moved to New York City and I was smitten by this city’s intersectional delight. Here, I took on the roles of director, slam poet, and actor, giving freedom to my voice and my vision to be built.

Even now, as I look back to the girl who used to run from soccer practice to pointe class, I feel her still with me as I run between rehearsals for Yue Yin’s “SOMEWHERE” and Candace Brown’s “SHADOWS.” Through both my career and personal life, I operate as one eager to intertwine discovery into my daily living whether it be across movement styles, communities, or hobbies.

I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?

One of the major difficulties of artistic life lies in our consistent self-regulation. I like to think of their uncanny ability to monitor personal growth as a superpower needing to be kept in check. With it, we can persevere within intense training and work schedules, sharpening our skills and making adjustments to our expression within seconds following notes from choreographers or directors. But this complex system of refinement can also lead to the dark realms of comparison, self-loathing, and envy. I fall into this pit a few times a week (honestly). I become exhausted by the whiplash of its control and cascade into discouragement too quickly. I am learning how to celebrate my non-linear growth and to know success is wonderfully relative. I should not measure my progress against someone else’s to experience feelings of triumph or success, nor should any job or benchmark be the source validating artistic growth.

Outside of this broader mentality, I have hit a collection roadblocks as an artist. These range from devastating audition rejections years in the making, intellectual property disputes, body dysmorphia, paralyzing stage fright, manipulative leadership, and some push-back based on my spiritual expression as a Christian. However, I carry gratitude for these encounters because at the end of the day, they aided me in my journey to distinguish the person I am and the person I am not. They forced me to the end of myself, confronting my identity and desires, making me evaluate the spaces I am placing myself and the dreams I am carrying. Are they intentional? Are they my ideals I am upholding? What am I chasing? Is it worth it?

Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?

Every day I am privilege to be an embodied storyteller, to carry narrative and note through my limbs and into the laps of observers to hold and partake however they so choose. As a movement artist, I specialize in contemporary dance and hip hop. I have trained in styles such as ballet, jazz, house, waving, dancehall, and musical theater as well to provide a wholesome approach to the body in motion. Currently, I am focusing my energies mostly on performing but I am also thrilled to be teaching contemporary consistently in NYC at studios such as Peridance Center and Broadway Dance Center.

As a dancer, I am often connected in association with my use of voice during my improvisational sessions known as “Free Play Sessions.” During these movement journals, I follow both physical and verbal instinct, creating with my limbs and my voice at once as I produce a stream-of-conscious sampling. My community has been kind to affirm my risk-taking choices as an artist and encourage my approach to use choreography as a method of expression, not the only medium for it. In these avenues of self-discovery, I perceive my work to form a unique thumbprint of my artistic impact here in NYC.

In so far as what I am most proud of, I would say it has been an honor to steward community spaces for artists outside of the workplace. I spent four years running a community forum called Dive-and-Dine, where strangers met monthly over a home-cooked meals to talk about culture, faith, creativity, and society to celebrate diverse opinions and offer a place for open discussion. More recently, it has been a privilege to pioneer a group I call “FORKS,” which is a collective of womxn dancers who also identify as a Christian. Once a month, we gather in Midtown to discuss the intersection of industry and spirituality. Some are mothers who bring their kids. Some womxn are doing their makeup being jumping across the street to make their Broadway call time. Some are creators trying to redefine how they want dance to continue in their lives. It is a marvelous community where we can understand the niche obstacles we face as faith-forward artists in an industry that never sleeps.

What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?

Simply put – you can respect your craft and remain playful. Mature artistry does not have to exist in a false dichotomy of either refined or experimental. At one point in time, I perceived the most mature artists to be the creators at the front of the room who demanded silence and had harness their fame to make their creative voice a brand. Now, I perceive premier artists to be those who both respect the hard work and dedication they pour into their craft WHILE ALSO allowing room for research and play. They are so comfortable in their relationship to being a “maker” that they do not have to define themselves by the product of what they have created but by the continually innovate processes of their approach.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.kristalyngill.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kristalyngill/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtBzgulsN-F_LA2M8j-OmdA

Image Credits

Photos 1 & 5 by Jenna Maslechko (reaching and blue denim)
Photo 2 by Paolo Verzani (four dancers in glitter costumes)
Photo 6 by Alice Chacon
Photo 7 by Nina Wurtzel of Akira Uchida’s work “and on…” at Fire Island Dance Festival