We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Denise Chan a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Denise thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

I think that’s a very interesting question for me, as I have recently realized that, for the majority of my life, I had never actively CHOSE dance. I was put into dance classes at a very young age, two and a half, by my mother, and the natural progression from a pastime to a hobby to an intense after-school extracurricular happened so swiftly that I never really had the chance to sit back and ask myself if this was something I actually wanted to do as a career. When the time came to decide what to do after high school, it just seemed like the natural next step. A lot of the time, I chose to keep dancing, to keep competing, to keep traveling for conventions, to do extra workshops and auditions, because that’s what I had always done, because that’s what I thought I had to do, and because I simply loved it. I had such a deep passion for it that I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. Dance, for me, along with all its extra time commitments and sacrifices, became habitual without ever being mundane or boring. So, I chose dance, or rather, I followed dance to its next natural progression. Still, even when I chose to move to NYC to attend Peridance Center’s Certificate Program and study dance for the next two years in the states, I still hadn’t actively chosen to pursue the arts as my profession yet. It wasn’t until I was in New York on my own that I finally started making choices and realized that this was the career I truly wanted to choose. Finding myself as an artist with the help and guidance of other inspirational artists and choreographers that I have gotten to work with helped me see that my love and passion for dance wasn’t just a habit that I had acquired, but a profession that I could choose. Seeing the abundance of art in NYC, watching incredible dancers in creatively abundant shows and performances, witnessing the different artistic communities and their cultures come together and create spaces in which people are valued and can be their authentic selves—all of these factors influenced me and my decision—my active, conscious choice—to pursue dance as my career. And it’s been the best, most fulfilling choice I’ve ever made.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

As I said before, I began dancing at two and a half years old in Coquitlam, B.C., Canada, where I was born and raised along with my younger sister by my two wonderful parents. My first dance class I ever took was a “Mommy & Me Ballet Class,” and it only grew from there. The next year we added jazz, then musical theater, then eventually hip-hop, and lyrical, contemporary, pointe, and tap. I went from doing 4 classes a week to 4 classes a day on average. My one year-end performance per season turned into a minimum of four competitions per season where I would compete in multiple group dances, duos, and solos, as well as travel to conventions on the weekends, dancing in workshops all day and then competing in the evening. But, even with my already packed dance schedule and, of course, school, I still wanted to do more. I did extra conventions and competitions and competed in at least two solos or duos each year, plus extra group dances too. I sought out outside training when I found a love for street dance styles including popping, locking, and hip-hop and competed with them as well. Thanks to the support of my parents, I traveled all over Canada and the USA for intensives and competitions, even competing in Denmark as a part of Team Canada Hip Hop. I truly could not get enough of dance, loving every aspect of it. I loved the intense technical training in ballet, jazz, and contemporary. I loved the raw and community-based atmosphere of hip-hop and popping. I loved taking classes and the concept that there is always something to be improved. And, of course, I loved performing. When I moved to NYC after graduating high school, I was given the platform to explore myself as a creative, which I also fell in love with. My undeniable drive and determination to be better than I was the day before, mixed with my versatility and unique movement style, really help me make my authentic mark in the industry. I have always taken pride in my individuality as well as my ability to make something my own without completely changing the outline of the choreography or given concept. My growth not only as a dancer but as an independent artist and person has given me the opportunity to uncover the depths of who I am and what I want to share with my movement, and my courage to stay authentic is intrinsically tied to the success I’ve experienced.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

Something that I believed when I was a young dancer and that I continued to believe up until recently was that pushing through exhaustion and consistently doing “extra” is the key to growth and success. I was told by teachers and mentors that when you feel tired, you have to work your hardest and that doing the bare minimum isn’t enough. This thought process isn’t necessarily harmful; in fact, it’s the truth; however, as a young, impressionable student who was a natural worker as well as slightly competitive, I took this approach to my craft to extreme lengths. Not only would I continue to work when I was tired, but I wouldn’t give myself the time to recover afterwards. I wouldn’t only do more than the minimum; I would pack my schedule with anything and everything I could. I was motivated to be the best out of fear of falling behind, and my need to dance was tainted by this fear. I spent the vast majority of my dance life stuck in a cycle of doing extra, getting tired, pushing through until my breaking point, getting injured, and then starting it all over again because I didn’t want to risk falling behind from taking a break. It wasn’t until halfway through my first year of my post-secondary program in NYC that my body couldn’t take it anymore. It was the first time in my life where I was in actual pain, not discomfort, and extremely limited in movement and mobility, unable to touch my toes, lift my left leg, or climb stairs without wincing and having to majorly compensate. I was consistently hurting, no matter what I did. Sitting, standing, lying down, dancing, walking—everything. Having basically just entered the program, though, I couldn’t take a break and had to finish my 2-year program struggling with my body and its limitations. Once I graduated, I was able to go home and see someone about my back, where the initial injury had started and where the pain was most intense, and after doing some mobility tests, the chiropractor told me that a disk in my back had shifted and that the only reason it wasn’t more debilitating was because the strength of my back muscles was holding it in place. I scheduled three more appointments and was ordered to rest for the rest of my time at home, which I finally did. I did absolutely nothing for the next week and a bit and had no feelings of laziness, guilt, or worry. I just wanted my body back, and I knew that if I didn’t rest now, that might never happen. After my break and combined with the sessions I had with the chiropractor, I returned to New York feeling so much more relief, but not 100% back to normal yet. Even though I had to continue taking classes to fully finish out my program, I only did ones that were easy on my body, such as conditioning classes, yoga, pilates, gyrokenisis, or simple beginner-level classes. Because of my new-found ability to really listen to my body, to be gentle with myself, and to allow myself to rest, my pain ceased to exist, and the disks in my back relaxed back into place. I look back on my time in the Certificate Program with such gratitude and joy, but also with some regret, as I wasn’t able to dance at my fullest due to my refusal to step back and sometimes do less; however, this incident reshaped my way of thinking and my approach to dance in relation to my mind and body. It only took 20 years, but I am now able to be gracious to myself and know when to push and when to rest. Sometimes I do still feel some negative feelings, but I realize that these feelings aren’t necessarily valid.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

There are so many rewarding aspects of being an artist that it’s really hard to choose just one. I have to say, though, that I have always admired and enjoyed how intimate a connection is between artists and how quickly it develops when working on an artistic project with others. Interacting with people and the development of relationships isn’t always the easiest thing for me personally, and talking to others can sometimes make me nervous or anxious, but when sharing the space with fellow artists and moving with them, the bond that forms is so much more immediate and personal than one formed with words. Not only am I able to discover things about myself through my art, but I can also learn about someone else through theirs. The kind of connection between all artists, whether they’re a dancer, singer, painter, musician, or anything else, is full of passion, vulnerability, and compassion. It’s free of judgment and insecurity. Some of my most sacred and strongest friendships have been built from working on dance projects together, rehearsing in company rehearsals, and even meeting in classes. It’s so incredibly rewarding to gain these connections and develop meaningful, deep, and, in some ways, spiritual bonds between people from all over the world with entirely different backgrounds and upbringings than me, and to learn some of the most intimate aspects of a person in such little time. I am always so grateful for these connections.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @_denise_chan_

Image Credits
1. Zani / Alma Collective 2. Kuoheng Huang 3. Cein / Sun Kim Dance Theatre 4. Jordan Ryder and Peridance Center