“I have always enjoyed changing my movement vocabulary instantly”

How does movement sound? Sometimes, it resonates as the precise rhythm of classical technique, sometimes as the free-flowing stream of improvisation, and at times, as something entirely unexpected—emerging in the space between form and emotion.

Martin Schonberg is someone who knows how to find music in movement. A native of South Africa, he has journeyed from Johannesburg’s free-spirited energy to the timeless heartbeat of Jerusalem. For over two years, he has been the choreographer of the Jerusalem Ballet under the artistic direction of Nadya Timofeyeva—a company that exists at the crossroads of tradition and modernity. In his work, classical structure intertwines with the dramaturgy of the body, strict forms collide with the raw energy of contemporary dance, and every gesture seems to spark a thought. He treats his own ancestry with the same creative flair he brings to choreography—adding yet another layer of intrigue to his persona. 

We spoke with Martin about how movement is born, why dance is not just about technique but meaning, and why contemporary ballet is always a dialogue.

                                     Photo by Yves Assouline

Martin, considering the fact that your last name is inevitably associated with composer Arnold Schoenberg, I’d love to ask: how does his music or legacy inspire your work as a choreographer?

My family name is something that I acknowledge and am grateful for however it is an act af chance. I have spent my entire life working at my profession and in no way, shape or form has my association with the Schonberg legacy helped, shaped or influenced my life as a person or an artist. 

You trained in many dance styles in South Africa and later at the Princess Grace Academy in Monaco. How did these diverse training experiences shape your approach to ballet and choreography?

My time spent at The Princess Grace Academy was meaningful. Marika Bessobrasova was a formidable figure who had an indelible impact on the ballet world. She will be remembered by everyone in a very different way as she presented a very different face and personality depending on who you were.
My personal experience was that of a Powerful, no nonsense old woman with the most piercing eyes I had ever seen. She was both commanding and demanding and I felt compelled to learn and soak up as much from her as possible. She was uncompromising and direct in her teaching.
When guests arrived her change frightened me, I had never experienced such an instantaneous transformation. One moment barking at us, the next second smiling, charming, gregarious and flirtatious. Knowing full well the true nature would return the second that esteemed guest would depart.
I learned so much from my time there, not limited to techniques but how to survive in the ballet world. I could continue for some time on this particular chapter but suffice to say I am grateful for the opportunity and the lessons learned.

How did your South African heritage influence your early experiences in dance, and do you see echoes of that influence in your work now?

Obviously my early training, life experiences and geographical residency influenced me enormously. Where do I begin? This to be honest is a question that would warrant an entire autobiographical book.
What my training lacked was I believe compensated with  by what we now refer to as cross training. I benefited from a varied amount of extramural activities and lifestyle. From birth I was raised every weekend on the river, swimming, running, playing, skiing, climbing and socializing. My mother was well travelled and opened up the greater world to me from the very beginning.
My identity as a Jew was established and consolidated from day one. I think of myself as Jewish before I consider gender, nationality or anything else which comes from my upbringing. Being an English speaking Caucasian Jew, defined me in the 1960’s which isolated and categorised me as an outsider from the start, something that has become part of who I remain.

When did you first realize that you would become a dancer?

My first Ballet teacher was a dominant force in my life and I am grateful to her for giving me the best she could. Her commitment and work ethic is something that I will always respect. My Spanish dance teacher helped to keep my love for performing, coordination and musicality stoked. By attending the Johannesburg School of Art, Ballet and Music I managed to escape the permanent daily dread of attending school where I was bullied mercilessly. It was there that I managed to experience a taste of what becoming a dancer could mean.
By surviving the challenges that I was confronted with in achieving my career in South Africa, I became equipped to handle many of life’s challenges that were presented later on.

What role does music play in your choreography, and how does it influence it?

Music has always been a source of inspiration for me. The need to express myself physically is innate. I have always enjoyed changing my movement vocabulary instantly, having an ability to hear the character of the music be it quick step, tango, folk or disco. Music and movement for me or inextricably linked and I have always enjoyed changing and adapting to express the music. Learning to perform with technique in the various dance genres helps me to to accurately perform in those styles but lack of training never prevented me as a child to explore and improvise. 

                                   Photo by Yves Assouline

You have choreographed works such as Concertino and Abstract Fragment for the Jerusalem Ballet, set to the music of Shostakovich. How did you interpret this music?

I love how, in Concertino for two pianos, the instruments seem to play like two brothers; it gives me a sense of familial connection. It's wonderful to see how they push each other, support each other, and how precise they are. I’m also inspired by the singing of birds—mainly swallows, to be exact. And, of course, I’m inspired by female dancers. (laughs)  
In this piece, I tried to capture flight—or perhaps even swimming. While creating it, I kept looking at photographs of a ship and an entire fleet. As for the female dancers, I wanted to highlight their strength, their sensitivity—and at the same time, their unity. I wanted to convey their breath, the speed of their turns, to show the antitheses of movement versus stillness, walking versus flight. As for the pas de deux, I was inspired by the dancers themselves. Especially Alexander Shevtsov—I call him Sir Sasha—he is a true gentleman and an aristocrat of dance. He has the ability to earn a woman's complete trust; he is steady, reliable—he is a rock. I structured the pas de deux architecturally, with his personality as the foundation. It is not so much about movement as it is about sculptural forms, like a mobile in space that gradually changes shape, so that the dancers resemble living Rodin sculptures. It’s about a relationship in which a stable man allows a woman to trust him, and this trust gives her the ability to fly.

                                 Photo by Olga Vinogradsky

Photographs from Martin Schonberg's personal archive. All photographs were provided by the Jerusalem Ballet