Isabel Paladin participated in the Artists Encounter at Spring Forward 2025

Isabel Paladin is an emerging dancer and creator based in Northern Italy. A graduate of Codarts University in Rotterdam, she returned to her home country during the pandemic. There, she began creating her own work – both independently and with the BASE9 Collective – exploring themes of nature, collaboration, and how to make dance more accessible.

Speaking to Paladin offers a grounded glimpse into the chaotic, often contradictory life of an artist, a vision far removed from the romantic stereotype of dreamers drifting through life untouched by reality. As she navigates the challenges of artistic life in a country with minimal cultural support, Paladin explores how to stay true to her creative vision while seeking financial stability.

You trained as a dancer at Codarts University. How did you transition from performing to creating your own work?

The shift came out of necessity. When I returned to Italy, I didn’t know the local dance scene and needed to start somewhere. I found a call for creation in Treviso – my hometown – and applied. There are more opportunities for creators than for dancers in Italy, so I gave it a try. I had no formal training in choreography, but I drew from my past experiences and just followed a need to explore artistically.

Tell me more about the artistic need that drives your exploration. What themes or questions are at the core of your work?

I have a very strong connection with nature. I grew up in the countryside, surrounded by trees and vineyards. Nature was always a safe space – when I was upset as a child, I would run outside and cry among the trees. It became my way to let out my emotions. My parents also worked the land, and I think I absorbed something from their physical, intuitive relationship to it. I try to bring that into dance – not to imitate nature, but to find a shared rhythm between body and environment. Nature has a healing presence. I hope my work reflects that.

You’ve also started incorporating technology into your work. Can you tell me more about that, and how it relates to your artistic vision?

I’ve recently started working with a device called Playtron, which translates the electric impulses of trees into sound. It creates an audio response to the presence of the tree – something I find deeply symbolic. It mirrors the way our bodies communicate, and I integrate this into my piece Come Verde ongoing (2025). I collaborate with a musician to create soundscapes for my works, though I don’t compose it myself.

Can you tell me more about the BASE9 Collective – how did you start working together?

We’re a group of artists who live and work in the same region. Some of us studied together; the rest met later. Our collaboration began through shared projects with OperaEstate – a performing arts festival in Bassano del Grappa – and over time we decided to support each other both emotionally and structurally. It helps to know you’re not alone in such a tough system. We also formed a legal structure for administrative purposes – to get paid properly and be taken seriously. Working together means constant communication, negotiation, and compromise. It’s grounded in mutual care. We remind each other that while dance is important, our well-being comes first.

A lot of your work takes place outdoors. Why is working outside important to you?

Outdoor spaces invite a broader audience – non-professionals, passers-by, and people who wouldn’t normally go to a theatre. In public space, dance becomes part of everyday life. It’s also where I rehearse, mostly out of necessity: I don’t have a studio or many tools at my disposal, so nature becomes my workspace. Of course, it has its limits: if it rains, I can’t work. But that, too, becomes part of the process. There’s a grounding value in being shaped by the conditions around you.

How else does accessibility permeate your practice?

I also co-lead projects like Dancing Strides, where we guide walks that integrate movement. We invite participants to move with us, without pressure, and not take themselves too seriously. Some walks focus on our connection to nature; others explore how we relate and communicate with one another. The collective also works with people with Parkinson’s, for whom movement offers a pathway where words no longer can. I’m not sure it’s healing, but it’s definitely about presence and well-being.

What does being a choreographer in Italy today mean to you?

It’s complex. I’m still learning how the system works – there’s no clear path. I can’t survive on creation alone, so I also teach dance, often in kindergartens, combining movement with English in playful ways. It’s fulfilling, but juggling everything is exhausting. Creating, organizing, teaching – it’s a constant negotiation of time and energy. I’ve learned to pace myself more than I used to. I used to run on pure passion. Now, I value breath, space, and knowing my limits.