Apr 21, 2025 | By: Jason Flakes
Caught mid-sculpture, mid-storm—Audrey coils and releases the art within. Her movement is a whisper wrapped in silk and power.
A modern echo of Degas, this image embodies kinetic sculpture. The curve of her body, the directional pull of the dress, and the intensity in her gaze make it a portrait of energy refined into grace.
Photographing ballet dancers is more than freezing movement—it’s about honoring the beauty of discipline, emotion, and strength. Ballet is a visual poem, and the photographer’s role is to ensure the audience can feel the rhythm and grace even without hearing a single note.
For me, this journey began in the most personal way—at home.
My wife, a former dancer herself, has long collected fine art inspired by dance—especially the iconic works of Harvey Edwards. His ballet photography is legendary, capturing the tension between elegance and grit. His work adorned our walls and sparked many conversations.
But while Harvey Edwards’ work is timeless, I felt something was missing: a reflection of African American ballerinas—their beauty, strength, and presence. I wanted to create art that honored their form, celebrated their stories, and widened the visual narrative around who gets to be seen in classical dance.
So I picked up my camera and stepped into this world—not knowing it would unlock a whole new creative language.
I reached out to an old friend, DaKiya Lamber, owner of Dance Dimensions studio in Maryland, and photographed one of her students en pointe. That first image became my first real work of dance photography. I was hooked.
What surprised most people is that this wasn’t my first interaction with ballet. In high school, while playing football, I was encouraged to take ballet classes to improve my balance, flexibility, and control. And it worked. The discipline of ballet gave me body awareness that few other forms of training could match.
Later, as a student of Shotokan martial arts, I found even more parallels between movement disciplines. Like dance, martial arts demand precision, posture, breath, and intention. They all point back to one thing: deep respect for the human form.
Photographing dancers now isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about honoring what the body is capable of. The way we’ve been designed and created is extraordinary. To witness someone leap, hold a pose en pointe, or turn midair—it’s not just beautiful. It’s sacred.
Shortly after that first shoot, I had the privilege of photographing Audrey Malek, a past member of The Washington Ballet and now a rising force with Pacific Northwest Ballet (PNB). Her jumps were effortless, almost weightless, and every frame held poetry.
I was also fortunate to receive guidance and insight from my friend and world-renowned photographer Antwon Maxwell (Website), who helped me experiment with new angles, lighting techniques, and postures that elevated the work. That shoot wasn’t just documentation—it was creation. It taught me how to see movement through a different lens.
A portrait of poise and power—Audrey holds space like a sculpture cast in movement. In this moment, the red is not just fabric, it’s fire stilled.
This shot is a study in controlled elegance. Her frame is centered and commanding, yet the swirl of the dress injects motion and passion into her sculptural stance. It’s a dancer caught in quiet command.
Suspended in defiance of gravity, Audrey Malek slices through silence—her crimson dress like a flame mid-flight, daring the air to catch her. This is more than motion—it’s conviction in flight.
This image captures the explosive peak of a grand jeté, where strength meets serenity. The fluid motion of the dress exaggerates the grace of her form, frozen at the height of expression.
During the pandemic, I dove deeper. One of my favorite collaborations was with Peyton Lilly Bond (@peytonlilly), a dancer whose spirit, presence, and beauty reflect both discipline and expression. The photos we created together weren’t just portraits—they were meditations. They became art. They became study. They became still stories told in motion.
Suspended in a monochrome dream, she is weightless, with arms outstretched and her gaze serene—dancing in the space between heartbeats.
One hand arches into the darkness above, her eyes tracing its path; below, she remains rooted—an elegant tether between earth and sky.
Poised on the edge of a breath, she lingers in arabesque—her white skirt swirling softly, a moment of grace suspended between motion and stillness.
Photographing dancers requires more than technical skill. It demands empathy, timing, and presence:
Every movement tells a story—and during National Dance Week, we celebrate the power of dance to express, connect, and inspire. Held annually in late April, this week is dedicated to honoring dance in all its forms—from ballet and hip-hop to cultural traditions and contemporary expression.
At its core, dance is storytelling in motion. It’s the rhythm of resilience, the poetry of presence, and a universal language that transcends borders. Whether performed on a stage or in a studio, dance reflects identity, emotion, and the shared human experience.
National Dance Week encourages us to not only appreciate the art of dance but also to support accessibility, diversity, and education within the dance community. It's a reminder that creativity isn't confined to words—sometimes it's found in every step, leap, and beat.
So this week, we honor the dancers, choreographers, and creatives who move with meaning.
Because sometimes, the most powerful stories are the ones we feel before we even hear them.
One of the most powerful things about photographing dancers is how much it expands you:
This is how you evolve as a photographer. You don’t just take pictures—you build perspective. And perspective is everything.
From DaKiya’s studio to Audrey’s jumps to Peyton’s portraits—each collaboration reminded me of the power of motion, collaboration, and shared creativity. These weren’t just photo shoots; they were partnerships. And in every one, I grew.
Ballet teaches us that beauty lies in the smallest moments between movements. Photography teaches us how to honor those moments—frame by frame.
If you’re a dancer, artist, or creative looking to bring your movement to life through timeless imagery, let’s connect. There’s magic waiting in the space between the shutter click and the leap.
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