Celestia: A Dance Beyond the Stars

Some stories are grounded in reality, in things we can see, touch, and define. Celestia is not one of those stories.

From the beginning, I wanted Celestia to capture something beyond human experience—the sense of wonder, mystery, and longing that stirs in us when we look up at the night sky. This ballet doesn’t tell a straightforward narrative. Instead, it moves like a dream, inviting audiences into a space where the boundaries between earth and eternity dissolve.

A Choreography of Light and Weightlessness

Creating movement for Celestia meant breaking away from the way we typically root ourselves in dance. I wanted the choreography to feel expansive, lifted, almost weightless, as if the dancers were moving through an atmosphere lighter than our own. Their limbs extend beyond the edges of their reach, their bodies hover between balance and surrender.

In many ways, Celestia is about the tension between reaching and receiving. The dancers stretch toward something beyond themselves, but they are also carried, as if drawn by an unseen force. It reminds me of moments in life when we feel the pull of something greater—when we sense a call to step beyond what is known and step into wonder.

The Music of the Heavens

I knew the score had to feel just as limitless as the movement. The music for Celestia is ethereal, blending orchestral swells with choral echoes that seem to vibrate beyond human sound. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound things in life can’t be put into words—they can only be felt.

A Story Without Words

One of the most challenging and beautiful parts of creating Celestia was allowing the ballet to remain open-ended. So many of our works tell clear, narrative-driven stories. But Celestia exists in the space between knowledge and mystery. It’s a ballet for those who have ever stared at the night sky and felt small yet deeply connected to something infinite.

When I watch the dancers perform Celestia, I see something I can’t fully explain. I see the weight of longing and the lightness of surrender. I see humanity stretching toward the heavens, drawn by something just beyond reach.

I hope that when audiences experience Celestia, they don’t just watch it—they feel it. I hope they walk away with the same question that stirred in me when creating it:

What if the beauty we glimpse in the sky is just a reflection of something even greater?

— Julianna Rubio Slager