I Interviewed Prima Ballerina Dorothée Gilbert and Somehow Managed To Not Shit My Pants About It

In partnership with Esplanade, 2019

How nervous was I when I was about to speak to Dorothée Gilbert, prima ballerina at Paris Opera Ballet? NERVOUS. There’s just something about the Paris Opera Ballet, an aura of untouchable grandeur and mystery. It’s all very French, to be cliched about it.

”Allo?’ her voice crackled slightly on the phone. It was elegant and soft, the aural equivalent of Chanel No 5 (timeless, iconic, powdery, with top notes of bergamot and ylang ylang). “Hi Dorothée! It’s a privilege for me to interview you. Thank you for taking the time,” I said.

A pause, and then a slightly guarded, “thank you,” she said.

Have I mucked it up already? Did I come off too fangirlish? I pressed on. We chatted about breakfast – baguettes and jamon and croissants.  I asked her about Nutella; I’d read that she liked it. I could hear her voice brighten. “oui, yes it’s true!” she enthused. And then I moved on to my questions. “So you joined the Paris Opera Ballet school at 7,” I said, glancing at my notes. “No, it’s not correct, I was 12.”

Oh God. One question in and I’d already made one of the cardinal mistakes of interviewing – getting a basic fact wrong.

She’d started dancing at 7, I knew it in my head. I’d made a mistake, and I’d made it to  Dorothée Gilbert, prima freaking ballerina at Paris Opera Ballet.

“Oh yes, I’m so sorry!” I said. What I meant was, ‘Please don’t hate me Dorothée Gilbert I swear I did my research also you are amazing how can I be you’. I was mortified.

“No, don’t worry!” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s okay!” She sounded like a cashmere sweater, one of those $500 ones with gold buttons that were probably hand-woven by little old ladies up in the Kashmir mountains – warm and comfortable and unimpeachably elegant.

And for the next 40 minutes we talked about her journey – getting through the Concours! Motherhood! Being an artist! Getting promoted to Étoile – a very charming story. Her speech was punctuated with, “cool!” and “oh lala” and a bright, clear laugh.

When the interview was over, I thanked her for her time. “Thank you very much!” she said, the consummate professional.

“Thank you! Have a wonderful day,” I said before hanging up. What I meant was, “Dorothée Gilbert you are amazing how can I be your best friend”