For Abigail Oliveiro, rough patches always lead to beautiful things
During quarantine, Abigail Oliveiro has been exploring choreography, including a piece she and Mark Sumaylo performed in the virtual recital of the Lisa Macuja School of Ballet.
By Jv Ramos
“Do I go home?” This was one of the big questions that Abigail “Abi” Oliveiro faced when things began to take a different turn in 2020. In the early weeks of the enhanced community quarantine, this principal dancer thought that the 14-day period would be nothing more than a nice break from work; but when the lockdown kept extending, which meant the Ballet Manila studio being completely inaccessible, Abi seriously considered going back to Australia. “I remember that the other foreign dancers in the company were gone in the next 24 to 48 hours, so I thought of flying home too. It was only when I spoke to my parents that I changed my mind and decided to stay.”
Principal artist Abigail Oliveiro, working at home, is determined to be a better and stronger dancer through the pandemic. “I don’t want to just give up,” she says. Photo by Mark Sumaylo
Her family had pointed out that the situation was no different back home. To prevent the spread of coronavirus, her home country was also placed under lockdown and many businesses, including those in the performing arts, had stopped operating. “Who knows when I could get a job there? Also, when I thought more about it, my situation here in the Philippines was more convenient, even with the lockdown. There are convenience stores when you go down from the building; there’s food delivery even late in the evening. And when the studios open, I don’t have to drive 45 minutes to get to one, so it made sense for me to stay.”
Due to the suspension of live performances, Ballet Manila’s principal dancers and soloists were tasked to help out at the Lisa Macuja School of Ballet, which filled their days with classes to teach and demo in, choreographies to create for student recitals, and of course, hours of figuring out technology and how to best translate the learning experience virtually.
“I’ve always loved to teach,” claims Abi, who before entering the world of professional ballet, would tutor in Math and English to support her own dance training. “Back then, I remember that I really enjoyed the problem-solving aspect of it. Like, as the teacher, you would have to understand what you’re teaching and your student and figure out how you can best communicate the lesson, so your student can easily understand. It’s like a puzzle that I really enjoy figuring out.”
Abi (center) takes on the role of Violetta, a courtesan torn between love and material comfort, in Lisa Macuja-Elizalde’s La Traviata (2020). Photo by Giselle P. Kasilag
With ballet lessons presenting the same puzzle, this dancer naturally enjoys the task of teaching, but admits that being distant from one’s students poses a huge challenge. “It’s not just about not being able to physically adjust their bodies. When you teach ballet digitally, you cannot feel the aura of your students, and understanding how each one learns – remember that every child has their own way of learning – takes time.”
The twenty-eight-year-old notes that in order to establish rapport among her young students, she had to reflect on what she liked while dancing as a kid. She figured out that since it was always the music that drew her in, she would look for music that inspires feelings to make the classes and choreographed pieces exciting for the children. And since she’s musically inclined, often adding tracks to her Spotify playlist for melodies she’d like to do choreographies for, Abi has a vast collection of songs from different decades, soundtracks, and composers to choose from.
For Abi, being able to take the lead in the full-length Giselle in 2019 – after so many uncertainties – was the chance of a lifetime. Photo by Jojit Lorenzo
“Music brings out so many emotions for me… It even has a way of hitting me. Before, Mark [her boyfriend, fellow principal dancer Mark Sumaylo] and I would always have music playing at our place. But in this pandemic, there would be long periods wherein I won’t play music, because it makes me feel down,” expresses Abi. It’s pretty much like that time in her life – back when she didn’t know yet of Ballet Manila – when she would hear Swan Lake constantly being played and all she could do was handle the class assigned to her. “I badly wanted to be in the next studio, dancing Swan Lake, so the music tormented me so much at that time.”
Playing the villain is something that Abi enjoys to the hilt, just as she did channeling Maleficent in Lisa Macuja-Elizalde’s Sleeping Beauty (2020).
Abi considers teaching both fulfilling and fun. “I actually am more confident with my teaching than with my dancing. The teaching just becomes really difficult when it hits you that what you really, really want to do is dance.” The whole situation of teaching one class after another and hardly performing basically reminds her of that time when people were dancing one of her favorite ballet classics, and all she could do was listen and attend to her students.
So, how does the ballerina keep moving forward? First, she and Mark always acknowledge all that they’re feeling. “And then, we make it a point to really figure out how we can get each other outside of this funk.” What worked for them was engaging in activities outside of teaching and company classes, such as renovating their entire space (which involved seeking the expertise of Mark’s Cagayan de Oro-based father when it comes to repainting the walls and shelves and getting live instructions from Abi’s father in Melbourne in installing dimmable lights), coming up with an art project that involved painting Abi’s old pointe shoes, taking long walks together, and looking out for artists whom they can commission to come up with unique pieces for their newly painted walls.
One of Abi’s last onstage performances was as the divine being Agape who must help an earthly kingdom repel evil in Rudy De Dios’ Carmina Burana (2020). Photo by Giselle P. Kasilag
“To keep going, each day, I make sure that I do something for myself, even if that’s as simple as ordering food I really like using Food Panda, buying something from Shopee, making a microwavable cookie, or watching Ru Paul in Netflix, which I like because it’s an exaggeration of life.”
It’s no surprise therefore that her advice to growing dancers, who are being dragged down by the pandemic’s restrictions, includes to always make time to do something that you really love each day. “Because even if that thing just takes 10 minutes, your day becomes so much better after doing something that truly makes you happy,” she reasons. “I always, always find the time to dance here, even if I’m alone and it’s just for me.”
Since dancing is what Abi really wants to do, she embraces every opportunity that comes her way. For instance, whenever studio time was allowed, she would book and pack early for it, and would make sure that no minute in that particular time frame was taken for granted. And whenever Gerardo Francisco, Ballet Manila’s resident choreographer and also a principal dancer, needs a stand-in while composing a dance, she would enthusiastically volunteer.
Abi, seen here in the Living Garden scene in Le Corsaire (2018), declares: “My purpose is to dance… so I’m going to do all I can to keep dancing for as long as I can!” Photo by Giselle P. Kasilag
“With all the teaching, things can be hectic, but that doesn’t really matter to me. If I’m needed to dance in a video shoot, to be a stand-in, or like perform the dance of the Black Swan the following day, I would gladly do it. I don’t want to think any more about the fact that I found it hard to dance the Black Swan despite rehearsing it every single day in the past. I just really want to dance, so no matter how difficult the role, I’m going to find a way to perform it the best way I can.”
No longer able to hold back her emotions while being interviewed, a teary-eyed yet still determined Abi voices out, “It’s been hard. Things have been really taxing on me. But I’d like to come out of this pandemic okay. Not just okay, but I’d like to be a better and stronger dancer after all this! I don’t want to just give up. There were so many moments in the past wherein I felt that things were going nowhere for me. I’ve been through so many rough patches before, but what came out of those rough patches were truly beautiful things. I’d like to think that something beautiful would come out of all this.”
Having been able to reflect more during the lockdown, this ballerina puts forward, “My purpose is clear; my purpose is to dance. I’m so far from done, so I’m going to do all I can to keep dancing for as long as I can!”
Abi wears Abi! This On Pointe mask is a collaboration between Arts & Letters and MarBi Photography, featuring a photo of pointe shoes that the ballerina herself painted and modeled.
