Jasmine Cammarota dances her life

Jasmine Cammarota : Yes, I’ve always dreamt of it. My Nonna, who used to do ballroom dancing, would often take me along with her, and I’d find myself dancing with very elderly gentlemen or ladies. I loved it. I was hyperactive; I danced all the time until the day my mum – an extraordinarily strong woman who brought me and my two sisters up on her own – decided to enrol me in a dance school.

I had a little notebook in which I used to draw. It was something nobody dared touch, and I took it with me everywhere I went. I often drew a scene with huge curtains. I could see myself dancing in a grand theatre one day, like a prima ballerina.

I had a wonderful childhood because I was lucky enough to be able to pursue my dreams. At home, I’d finish my homework quickly and and set off on my own, walking to the dance school. When I got home, I was tired but happy: I could have carried on dancing forever.

No, I wasn’t born with a body made for dancing, but I trained very hard. I remember a sentence that one of my Russian dance teachers used to repeat. She’d hold me up as an example and would say to the other pupils: ‘Look at Jasmine, she’s got no bread, but she’s got teeth’. It’s difficult to translate into English. It meant that I didn’t have the physical attributes or technique of some of the other girls, but that I had an iron will. As I didn’t have a dancer’s arch, I’d sleep at night with my feet under the bed frame so that I’d wake up in the morning with a more graceful arch. I wanted to improve. In fact, after a few years, I told my mum that there was nothing left for me to learn from this school.

I was 10 years old. I had to leave home to go and study at the Academy in Rome. I cherish the memory of that little Jasmine who sometimes needed comforting, far from her family’s hugs: I lived in a boarding school run by nuns where I attended both school and dance classes. After a few years, I once again felt that there was nothing left for me to learn there.

Yes, after completing my classical dance training at the Academy, I came to study at the Ecole-atelier Rudra Béjart Lausanne for two years. And straight after that, in 2010 – I was 18 at the time – I joined the BBL company. It’s been 16 years already! I’m actually in the process of applying for naturalisation. I feel Swiss too, so why not go all the way with it, since I intend to stay? I’ll never give up Italy because it’s my country, but here I’ve found my place. You can wake up in the morning and say to yourself, ‘I’d like to do that’, and this country makes it possible. I feel at home in Switzerland.

There are no ‘stars’ as there might be at the Paris Opera. With Béjart, nobody has a specific label: everyone is part of the corps de ballet and has to learn all the roles. On the same evening, you might be part of the corps de ballet in the first act and a soloist in the second. But it’s true that I dance soloist roles more often.

‘Tous les hommes presque toujours s’imaginent’. It was a choreography by the former director of the BBL, Gil Roman. A very beautiful ballet that he created around me, my body and my personality. It allowed me to be myself from start to finish. It’s a very powerful experience. He also has many ballets by Maurice Béjart that I adore. *Dionysos*, for example. It’s sublime! When you dance it, you feel as though you’re in Greece. That’s also part of Béjart’s beauty: he explored so many different worlds.

Absolutely! You can’t dance a ballet thinking you’ll do it just as you did yesterday. Every day I experience the story differently on stage. Before I dance, I visualise every performance, right down to the applause. It’s a fleeting art, it’s true, but I can always hold on to the emotion I’ve experienced. I danced at the Paris Opera, where I had a leading role; and even today, if I want to go back there and recapture that very powerful emotion I felt, I can do so thanks to my imagination.

Dance is a unique means of communication. Dancing allows me to express myself without words, and to convey inspiration, faith, joy, and those indescribable emotions that the body knows how to express.

A great sense of pride. There are, in fact, very strong connections between the world of Bvlgari and dance. When someone comes to see a performance, everything is perfect, everything is beautiful. They don’t see all the work that goes on behind the scenes – the craftsmanship, the discipline, the precision. The same is true of fine jewellery and watchmaking: behind every piece, whether it’s a hand-set necklace or a in-house movement, lies invisible, demanding and impeccable expertise. Ultimately, what we seek at BBL, just as at Bvlgari, is beauty, elegance and a level of craftsmanship that can only be achieved through immense hard work and passion. In fact, I realised some time ago that my mum had owned a Serpenti watch when she was young. She’d received it as a gift and treasured it dearly, like a precious treasure. When I received one myself, I rang her straight away. Life is made up of these kinds of coincidences that aren’t really coincidences at all.

The Boléro! There’s the rhythm, the structure, the precision and that red floor that carries you, supports you and gives you strength. I see this ballet as a volcano that slowly builds up heat before erupting. A bit like Bvlgari, which never ceases to surprise us with jewellery and watch creations of a boldness that no one had dared to attempt before.

During the Covid pandemic, I set up Jazymoves; initially I was giving online classes, but the concept has since evolved. It’s a training method I’ve developed based on all my experience as a professional dancer. It stemmed from my desire to pass on everything that dance has taught me, far beyond the stage. Today, Jazymoves has become a real community of women where movement is a way to regain self-confidence, reconnect with one’s body and find balance. I offer a subscription giving access to weekly online classes, pre-recorded videos and personalised support. My aim isn’t just to offer workouts, but to provide tools that everyone can keep for life, to look after themselves, regain confidence in their bodies and reconnect with themselves.

No, I also organise in-person workshops and retreats dedicated to women. This year marks the fourth edition. I’ve created the experience I’d always dreamed of but never found: heading off to a peaceful place where I could rest, look after myself, let go, eat well and meditate, whilst continuing to train according to a bespoke schedule alongside people who share my values. Sharing is important. Through Jazymoves, I want to help women become the most important project in their own lives once again.

It’s funny because I actually wrote a letter to that little Jasmine, telling her: ‘Can you see where I’ve got to today? Do you remember those times when you used to walk all by yourself, in the rain, to get to your dance class? Well, today you can be proud!’ My mum often used to tell me, when I was unhappy with my situation, that opportunities only come round once and that when you’ve got one, you’ve got to hold on tight. I learnt that at a very young age and I’ve never given up on my dreams.