New Haven Ballet’s The Sleeping Beauty
Captured at the Shubert Theatre
From first position to final bow, young dancers, professional performers, and a thoughtful costume story brought this production to life.
This spring, we had the privilege of photographing a beautiful matinee performance of The Sleeping Beauty at the Shubert Theatre, presented by New Haven Ballet and directed by Artistic Director Lisa Sanborn. It was one of those rare experiences that moved with the elegance of a perfectly held arabesque — graceful, intentional, and full of heart.
What made this production especially moving was the blend of young dancers, seasoned artists, and professional performers sharing the stage together. It was a living portrait of ballet training in all its stages, from first position to fifth position, from quiet beginnings to confident expression. Watching the cast come together felt like witnessing the art form itself breathe — generation meeting generation in one beautifully choreographed conversation.
Set to Tchaikovsky’s timeless score, the ballet preserved the grandeur of the original while remaining accessible and enchanting for families and young audiences.
Every scene seemed to rise and fall like a plié into a graceful relevé — soft, then soaring; grounded, then airborne. That balance is part of what makes ballet so enduring. It can be both delicate and powerful, both story and sculpture in motion.
One of the most memorable behind-the-scenes details came from an interview we held during rehearsal with New Haven Ballet’s costume designer and wardrobe mistress, Kimberly Salsbury.
She shared the story of the Bluebird tutu, which had originally lived its first life as the Snow Queen costume in The Nutcracker for more than two decades. Rather than be retired and forgotten, it was carefully stripped of its decorations, thoroughly cleaned, and transformed into something new. That care for costume — and for tradition — felt emblematic of the whole production: thoughtful, resourceful, and deeply respectful of the past even as it steps boldly into the present.
Knowing that several students had danced in that very tutu lent the performance a tender continuity, as if each generation passed the story forward with a quiet curtsy. The costume’s renewed life — like the choreography that folds history into each movement — was a vivid reminder that art is cumulative, stitched from many hands, seasons, and small acts of devotion.
As Kimberly explained, ballet tutus are precious creations — pieces of craftsmanship that carry both time and memory.
“You never get rid of one unless it’s literally falling apart.”
And even then, there’s often a way to bring it back into the dance. That kind of preservation feels very much like ballet itself: a continual act of renewal, where every stitch, every step, and every performance builds on what came before.
It was especially touching to know that several dancers had worn that tutu before, giving it a history that lived beneath the lights.
From the box at stage left, the vantage is unique and intimate, bringing viewers close to the dancers and squarely into the heartbeat of the production. Photographing the performance requires focus, anticipation, and timing — the same qualities a dancer brings to every plié, turn, and lift of the chin.
With the continual flow of acts and quick transitions, photographers must stay ready at all times, using high‑speed continuous shutter to capture those brief, suspended moments before they vanish.
In many ways, photographing dance is its own performance — on pointe in spirit, guided by instinct and attuned to every nuance. One moves with the stage’s rhythm, anticipating the next beat, the next leap, the next line of the body. That is what makes dance photography so compelling: it asks the eye to listen and the heart to answer, freezing fleeting moments with deliberate precision.
The curtain falls and we ushered through the backstage door.
Families and friends gathered with flowers, joy, and proud smiles, waiting for their young performers after the final bow. It was a beautiful reminder that ballet does not end when the curtain falls. It continues in the embrace, in the applause, in the tears of pride, and in the quiet wonder of seeing a child step into the light. That moment held its own kind of choreography — one of love, support, and celebration.
Overall, it was an unforgettable experience and a true honor to capture. The performance, the artistry, the costume history, and the family joy all came together like a perfectly balanced ensemble. We left the Shubert Theatre with a deep appreciation for ballet not only as performance, but as devotion — a discipline of heart, memory, and motion.
As The Sleeping Beauty reaches its long-awaited awakening after 100 years of sleep, it feels especially meaningful in spring—a season of renewal, light, and gentle transformation. After winter’s stillness, the story’s return to life mirrors the world outside: blooming, stirring, and rising again. In that way, the ballet becomes more than a performance; it becomes a reminder that beauty, like spring itself, is never truly lost—only waiting to awaken.
Step behind the curtain and discover more moments where movement, memory, and meaning come alive through the lens of Lensdoit Media.
Stay tuned for a special release of behind the scenes video real soon.
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