Ballet as a State: Đorđe Kalenić’s Journey Between Stage, Body, and Intuition

Ballet is often viewed through discipline, technique and stage. Less often through an internal process, doubt, exhaustion and intuition that guides decisions. In a conversation with Đorđe Kalenić, a young ballet artist whose professional path led from the first dance steps, through large international projects and intensive work in Russia, until returning to Belgrade, ballet appears as just such a space - not only of work, but also of deep personal experience. In this interview, Đorđe talks about how he found ballet, how ballet shaped him, and why listening to his own body and inner feeling became key to his further artistic journey.

Đorđe , what is ballet for you?

For me, ballet is the most natural way to express what I carry inside. I used to think that ballet was an escape from reality, but today I think the opposite - it is the place where I feel reality most clearly. Not from the outside, but from the inside.
Ballet for me is not really a place, but a state. The state in which I feel the most beautiful, sometimes even as if I'm floating. Ballet is something that really means a lot to me - perhaps the most of anything I have, and I'm sure it will remain so in the future. I get up every morning with excitement because I know I'm going to do ballet.
This is what carries me through life. I am grateful that it exists, that it found me and that I found it. Through ballet, I learned to connect deeply with myself, and I think that this is the greatest value that this art gives me.

When did you actually discover ballet?

Basically, everything started from the game. Even today, I think that dance is the basis of everything, and that later I only turned professionally towards ballet. I started with show-dance and jazz-dance, more out of curiosity - a friend and a friend were already going, so I wanted to see what it looked like. I had fun and that was all that mattered at the time.
People said I had talent, but at the time I didn't know what that really meant. I just felt that the game was interesting and fulfilling to me, and I wanted to explore it further. I listened to the advice of those who had more experience and they slowly guided me.
The turning point happened when Ana Pavlović took me to my first teacher, Ivanka Lukatelli. Soon after, a surprise audition opened at the National Theater for Sergei Polunin's Satori project. I knew who he was, I'd seen the tapes, it was around the time Take Me to Church came out. It was all extremely interesting to me, but at the time I had no idea of the scale of that world.
I went to the audition almost for fun - and it was there that I realized it was going to be ballet. That this is the direction I want to go and the "armor" that I will carry on.

How did the audition go and what happened next?

The audition was in Belgrade and eleven boys showed up. There were three of us left in the shortlist, and Sergey Polunin chose me in the end. It is interesting that later the remaining two from that circle also became scholars of the Polunjin Foundation. To me, it was another sign that ballet itself, in a way, was constantly finding and guiding me. That's when I felt clearly for the first time: that's it, I'm on my own.
After that came my first big project – Satori, which was played in Parma and Modena. For me, at that age, it was an almost unimaginable experience. That such a world even exists. Rehearsals were daily and demanding, but it wasn't difficult for me - on the contrary, I couldn't wait for each new day.
Until then, I had come from a competitive dance background and had a strong need to show off. However, something completely different happened on stage. When the show ended and I went out in front of the audience, I felt for the first time what I feel today every time I go on stage. Applause and energy that circulated between the audience and us - it was an unreal experience. At that moment I just thought that I want to give everything so that I can experience that feeling again.

After that comes the project where you really start to build your name. What did he look like?

That was the Raspucin project. First, a pre-premiere was played in Moscow - although at first I only knew about the planned premiere in London, and later the project continued and we played in Zurich, Uzbekistan and Budapest, and then the younger generations took it over.
I interpreted the role of Tsarevich Alexei. It was a very demanding role, especially acting. From the very beginning, they explained to me that I had to get to know the person I was playing - who he was, what his life was like, how he moved, how he thought. I also researched his disease, leukemia, what it means and how it affects a person.
The most important thing I learned then was the difference between acting and being in a role. Nobody said to me, "Act it." Instead, they helped me understand the character and become him, not imitate him. Today, I often hear: "You are so and so in this role, so just pretend to be excited, scared, and the like." Even then, I already understood that the artistic process is much deeper.
I remember the scene where Alexei is lying on the bed, near the end, while the Tsar and Empress are dancing. I remember exactly those feelings - the pain, the emotion, the moment when the savior, Rasputin, played by Sergei Polunin, comes. These are emotions that cannot always be evoked in the gym. The stage is a special place. I don't know if there is anything I can compare the intensity of that experience to. It was strong, deep and for me groundbreaking - and I managed to get into that role completely.

You practically entered the profession "by the big door", and only then did you start formal education. What did it look like?

The people I worked with very quickly directed me to the fact that I had to study, probably abroad. In between those projects, I went to a competition in Vienna, where I performed my choreography and was part of a gala evening with selected performances. I was accepted to school there.
I have to say that coming to Vienna, after everything I've already been through on stage, was a big shock for me. Suddenly I entered a system where artistic impression and creative process are not in the foreground - everything is based on form and discipline. Ballet schools, in fact, put us in a very precise framework that is necessary so that the body can later perform the artistic process in the right way, to be physically ready and reliable.
My path, however, was reversed. I first learned how to get into a role and how to build an artistic expression, and only later did I understand how necessary the base, technique and discipline are. That's why it was difficult and unusual for me at that moment. But today I think that such a path directed me towards always searching for artistic freedom and further exploration of myself through ballet.
I see that this is not the primary focus for many in this profession - often it is only important to play, to go from play to play. However, it is important for me that each role challenges me, moves me further and through it I discover what else I can become. Because I believe that artists discover their own possibilities precisely through their roles. On stage, if we succeed, we really become the roles we play.

The experience in Russia is often described as extremely intense. What was your biggest challenge there?

The real challenge was the system and pace of work. After studying in Stuttgart, I went to the Mikhailovsky Theater in St. Petersburg, knowing that I was going there primarily for the experience. In the beginning, the rhythm gradually built up, but very quickly I was faced with a pace that, in my opinion, does not exist anywhere in Europe.
We played between five and seven shows a week, and every week I appeared in at least two or three different roles.- With such a rhythm, there is almost no time for recovery. It happened that I couldn't fall asleep in the evening because the music from the play still echoed in my head and I was still attached to the character from that play, and I had to get a good night's sleep and renew myself because I would already have one or two plays tomorrow with completely different roles.
-I get that it's durable for a while, but it's not healthy in the long run. Emotions are extremely strong, adrenaline is constantly present, hormones are constantly stimulated. I began to wonder how older artists managed to live such a life for many years and began to observe them.
Over time, I've noticed that many artists in such a system don't really step into the roles, but just "play" them to get the job done. Especially when it comes to roles that are not precisely defined characterologically - for example, when you play "the people". Instead of a specific character, e.g. The Spanish people, the artists would just "play" if they were any other people without going deeper into the character.
I tried to do it myself. After the show, I got the usual comments, but my feeling inside was completely wrong. When I watched the footage later, everything was technically just as good as when I got deeper into the role – but the inner satisfaction wasn't there like it was then. In that situation, I realized that for me as I am, that game system doesn't seem to be compatible.
From the moment I first felt strong emotions on stage, it became a standard for me. I believe that the scene should be nothing but that space full of emotion. So it became a challenge for me how to stay healthy in such a rhythm - how to go through all those performances, to give my body sleep, food and recovery, and at the same time to keep the meaning for which I do this work, which is that strong feeling on stage every time.
It happened that I had a rehearsal for the second act of the play during the intermission after the first act, which I spent the whole time on stage. In such a rhythm, I noticed that the artistic process slowly disappears. There was no time to discuss the role, the meaning of the gesture, the expression and the emotion. It was all about getting the show done and moving on. Even with new productions, which were rare, a lot was learned from the videos, and the corrections were mostly technical. There was no room for a deeper understanding of the role - partly because of the situation in Russia, where there were very few choreographers in that period, especially contemporary choreographies.

How did you start to become aware of your body and not only perceive exercise as physical fitness?

I found it quite confusing at first. After all the experiences on the stage, I came - to the ballet academy system, where there is a very clear base that must be followed. There they teach us that this base is the basis of everything - that we keep coming back to the discipline and that the movement must look a certain way, often at a very intense pace.
After Vienna, I decided to change schools and go to Stuttgart. It wasn't a quick decision - I put a lot of time into it. I signed up for an audition for the John Cranko School, and after entering the school I had a performance in Belgrade with the Polunjin Foundation. That's when, in fact, my path and the path of Clik for Serbia crossed, for which I am very grateful.
In that school, which is considered one of the most prestigious, - I accepted how important it is that all movements are correct. However, as I continued to discipline myself with that approach, at some point something stopped working. I became too obsessed with how everything looks, precisely for the love of ballet, to the point where I neglected the inner feeling, although I always strived for it.
I had to find that inner feeling in myself again. Coming to my hometown helped me a lot in that. I was in pain from the injury, and it was that pain that made me look more inward and learn about myself. Then the feeling of proper movement from within became more important than what was seen in the mirror. And paradoxically - as that inner feeling returned, the image became better.
I learned a lot through that process. I realized that it's all about the feeling and that the most important thing is what is conveyed to the audience from the inside. Regardless of how something looks, if the emotion doesn't come from within, the audience will feel it.
I needed all that in order to get even deeper into my profession and to be able to convey to the audience what I really want through the stage. That process is directly linked to intuition, which I have always followed. I had it before - when I decided to leave school in Vienna, when I was choosing my next steps, and even when I was looking for a job. Although some places logically seemed better, I always followed what drew me at that moment.
It was the same with Russia. I felt that I should return to Belgrade, although I ignored that feeling for a while. When I saw the audition for the National Theater in Belgrade, I knew I had to apply. Coming here, I started to devote myself completely to that inner feeling and I believe that now I can build my career honestly, from myself.

And after all that, you decided to return to Serbia?

I am extremely grateful that my engagement in Russia was my first professional job. I knew that I was going there primarily for the experience, and I really got that experience. During that period, I performed more than 200 performances in a year and a half, in over 15 different productions, and almost all of them were classical ballets.
I honestly think that I would have to spend at least five years in Europe for such an experience. That pace and amount of work gave me a huge professional base and it's clear to me that the experience was invaluable.

And what gives you energy when there is no performance and applause?

I always come back to that love I have for ballet. It often happens that I am tired and need to go to the gym in the second half of the working day, and then, quite by chance, some ballet video appears on social networks. At that moment I think: this is why I'm doing all this. And it makes me want to get up and do the workout, even when it's hard.
I am also inspired by other people, art in general. I like to watch podcasts, from the world of ballet, but also more widely, often with athletes. Although ballet artists are not athletes in the classical sense, we have to be physically extremely fit, and I find many similarities in that. I also find inspiration in actors and singers when they talk about their art and how they enter their world.
But in the end I always come back to the same thought: stage and ballet. Everything I do, I do because of the ballet, and the thought alone gets me going again. Somehow I feel like I don't even have to look for inspiration, but it constantly finds its own way and comes to me.

Is there a role you've always wanted to play?

Yes, my dream is Albrecht in Giselle. Giselle is my favorite ballet. It is interesting that, while I was in Russia, I constantly went to see every ballet I had the chance to see, whether it was at the Mikhailovsky Theater or another one, except the Giselle ballet. It's the only ballet I couldn't watch at any time.
The reason is that this ballet puts me in a special state. I know how powerful it is and how much it affects me personally, and that's why I always felt that I wanted to approach it with full readiness.

How did the support of Click for Serbia affect you?

Without that support, none of this would be possible. The very fact that someone, through the whole process, believed in me, and showed it with a scholarship, was extremely motivating. It is a certain pressure, but pressure that drives me.
Through your support, I also learned responsibility. But perhaps the most important thing is that at the end of the day I know that there is someone who believes in me, who knows that I am here for a reason and who supports me based on gut feeling and judgment, even though you didn't know me before. I experienced that support as something that came to me for a reason, and it really meant a lot to me.

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