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| In Berlin, the balletic strength of Evgeny Ganeev is evident in his expressive contemporary dance. Photograph (above) and cover picture by Jay Zoo for DAM |
A dancer shaped by Russian ballet, Saint Petersburg’s atmospheric beauty and Berlin’s restless creative energy, Evgeny Ganeev moves between dance, fashion and visual art with an instinctive sensibility. His sculptural physicality and fascination with the fleeting nature of performance make him an intriguing figure. Speaking with candour about the forces that have shaped his artistic life, the dancer recounts his experience with Yuima Nakazato, the creative possibilities that emerge encountering fashion and why, for now, he calls Berlin home. Interview by Jeanne-Marie Cilento. Photography by Jay Zoo
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Evgeny Ganeev had stringent Russian ballet training from five years old. |
His evolution from classical ballet towards contemporary performance found an important early expression in The Melancholy, the solo he performed at the 2018 Tallinn International Ballet Competition.
Selected for the Winners’ Gala alongside established artists, the experience marked a quiet turning point: contemporary dance offered Ganeev not simply another vocabulary of movement, but a different way of existing on stage—one in which the performer could express himself directly rather than inhabit a predetermined role.
"Saint Petersburg is an architecture of atmosphere as much as of stone, I was shaped by its museums, its theatres, and its constant presence of art"
Today, his practice extends far beyond dance. Drawing and painting, photography and film, clay and craftsmanship all exist alongside the body as different forms of the same creative necessity. This openness to other disciplines has also led to collaborations at the intersection of contemporary performance and high fashion, most notably with Japanese designer Yuima Nakazato. For Nakazato’s Glacier collection, Ganeev became part of an intentionally ephemeral performance in which unique garments, movement, ink and the human body converged. The result was less a conventional fashion presentation than a fleeting encounter between sculpture, performance and couture.
There is a particular stillness beneath Ganeev’s physical intensity. His relationship with Saint Petersburg’s melancholy landscape remains an “inner weather”; his Russian training has become an echo rather than a constraint; and his interest in the fragility of existence places the living body at the centre of his artistic thinking. Even in an increasingly digital culture, he believes there are things technology cannot reproduce: the presence of a living form in space and time, and the immediacy of bodies sharing the same reality.
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The dancer's work comes from instinct, even before thought. |
What draws me most to dance is the moment when the body enters a state of heightened presence, where freedom and expression become indistinguishable. In those moments, space itself feels almost tangible.
My work comes mostly from instinct, from something before thought. When I work under direction, the mind becomes important first ~ understanding the intention before I can fully respond physically.
2. What are your memories of growing up in Saint Petersburg, and how did that beautiful city shape your early imagination?
Saint Petersburg is an architecture of atmosphere as much as of stone. I was shaped by its museums, its theatres, and its constant presence of art.
What remains most vivid is its grey, reflective light. There is a quiet melancholy in that landscape that many resist, but I always felt drawn to it. It continues to live within my work as a kind of inner weather.
3. Russian ballet training is famous for its incredible, intense discipline. What did those early years of rigorous practice teach you about yourself?
Those years taught me resilience too early. In that environment, you either commit fully or you don't continue. It was difficult to separate life and training, and only later did I begin to understand what that intensity leaves behind.
Today, I return to those experiences as echoes. They continue to transform into new meanings over time.
Perhaps the most important lesson was the necessity of sustaining an inner reason to dance ~ one that survives pressure rather than being defined by it. That love remains both fragile and unyielding.
4. In 2018, you performed a solo called The Melancholy at the Tallinn International Ballet Competition. How did preparing for that performance help you grow from a student into a true artist?
At that time, I was no longer a student, yet still young and in a state of transition, shifting from classical ballet towards contemporary performance.
The Melancholy was selected for the Winners' Gala, and I found myself performing alongside established artists. That recognition gave me a quiet sense of confidence in moving forward.
What made that period particularly important was that contemporary dance opened a different way of being on stage for me. Unlike in classical ballet, where you often perform a role, I felt I could express myself more directly as an artist through movement.
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The dancer's long, balletic lines are the result of many years of training. |
I do not think I ever made this one choice.
Dance remains the main focus, but other forms such as drawing and painting have been part of my practice for many years and exist as parallel extensions of the same necessity to create. I also work with photography and film, and I love clay and craftsmanship. There are things I cannot express fully through the body alone.
For now, dance leads simply because the body has its own timeline.
6. Your movement has a beautiful, long, and sculptural line. Did this grace come naturally to you, or is it something you practiced for years to perfect?
It is the result of many years of work, and it is still something that requires constant training. Some periods are more intense, others gentler, but I have been dancing since I was five years old.
7. What is it like to perform dance for a haute couture fashion show like Yuima Nakazato's Glacier collection, and how does performing for a fashion audience compare to a traditional theatre audience?
It was a truly inspiring experience.
The garments existed as unique pieces, so it was not possible to rehearse with them. The performance could only happen once, while Yuima himself worked with ink directly on fabric and skin. It was not a repeatable moment. I love this kind of impermanence.
When the audience entered, I was already in the space, in a slow unfolding on the floor. The main difference from theatre was the closeness ~ people were very near. I remember cameras immediately beginning to photograph what they saw, but I was already in a different state, simply inside the experience.
8. Which specific person or training do you feel has had the most significant impact on your career as an artist, and on you as a person?
It is not possible for me to name a single influence.
Each meaningful collaboration leaves something behind. I am increasingly drawn to encounters with artists from different backgrounds and disciplines. What matters most is the balance between remaining open and staying rooted in one's own path.
Speaking of training, Wayne McGregor's Mind and Movement programme, which I was fortunate to take part in, has indeed had a significant impact on my artistic development.
As a person, my attention is less fixed on individuals and more on art, culture, and nature.
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Evgeny Ganeev believes technology cannot replace living forms of dance. |
The body remains irreducible.
No technological extension can replace the presence of a living form in space and time. This immediacy ~ the shared reality of being ~ is something that cannot be simulated.
Technology may extend the field of performance, but it does not replace its essence.
I am not deeply driven by digital themes in my own work. I am more interested in the fragility of existence and how the body holds and translates it.
10. Why did you choose Berlin as your home, and does the everyday energy of the city inspire your studio practice today, or does it make it harder?
The decision to move to Berlin was not planned in detail; it happened quite spontaneously. It is a city with a very open and diverse artistic scene that I found attractive.
Its energy is not always easy, but it is alive, and it definitely does not affect my practice negatively. I have met wonderful artists here and built meaningful connections.
I travel a lot for work and I know I will be living somewhere else in the future. But for now, I can call Berlin my home.
See gallery of Evgeny Ganeev using contemporary dance to express emotion and ideas. Photographed by Jay Zoo in Berlin.
