PLAY THE PART Zhurbin, second from right, has his pick of the Jardin.

Photograph: Lois Greenfeld

[Ed's note: This interview has been expanded with online bonus content.]

Roman Zhurbin may be only 24, but he has an affinity for old souls. Perhaps such power is rooted in his pale, moonlike face—how the strong line of his jaw balances eyes that fill with laughter or sorrow in a penetrable moment. Born in Moscow, Zhurbin, a member of American Ballet Theatre’s corps de ballet, began as a folk dancer. But after moving to New York with his family when he was 13, he gave it up for baseball, saying, “If there’s no folk dancing, I don’t want to dance.” When it was time to go to high school, he revisited his decision; since the options in the Bronx didn’t meet his parents’ standards, his father encouraged him to audition for the dance program at LaGuardia High School. (A father who encourages dance!) At ABT, which he joined as an apprentice in 2004, Zhurbin has blossomed into a prominent character dancer: father to Romeo and Juliet, the High Brahmin in La Bayadère, the Pasha in Le Corsaire, Monsieur GM in Manon and—in his first big break—the Moor in Petrouchka. This season, Zhurbin makes his debut in Antony Tudor’s Jardin aux Lilas opposite Julie Kent. ““He has wonderful instincts and is so careful about watching details and learning,” she says. “ It’s great to have someone with a real awareness of those things in the up-and-coming generation. He could be a great Tudor dancer.”

How did you get into dance?
In Moscow, my uncle danced in a folk-dance company. My father put me in a school called something like Rhythm of the Youth, and we did Russian folk dancing. I started doing that when I was six. I continued until I was 13 and moved here. We were all kids and we traveled a lot—we went to Spain and Turkey—and it was a lot of fun. So when I came here, I really wanted to dance. I said, “If there’s no folk dancing, I don’t want to dance.” So I stopped, because there’s not really any folk dancing here and I didn’t know anything about ballet. Okay. [Sighs]< I went to the public high school, and I played a lot of baseball. That was another passion.

What was your position?
[Proudly] Second base. I did well. We played after school and that’s how I became friends with everybody because I didn’t speak any English. I found baseball fascinating. It’s kind of an easy game. You just hit the ball and catch it. And then, when it was time to move to high school, I lived in the Bronx. I still do; I live in Riverdale. The public high school was really bad; there were a lot of gangs and bad things happening there, and nobody wanted me to go there. My dad found LaGuardia High School. He said, “They have a dance program.” I said, [In a hillbilly accent] “Daance? What kind of dance do they have?” He said, “Just try it out. They have ballet and modern.”

How did you find ballet when you first started?
It was pretty scary. The first time I auditioned for LaGuardia, they were teaching ballet class. I’m like, Hello? No idea what was happening. Jumping up and down, turning the wrong way. I felt so awkward. I got a callback, which meant you had to choreograph your own solo. I was like, Oh no.… So I danced to Whitney Houston. [Cracks up] That’s how I got in. Somehow they saw potential in a Whitney Houston solo. And now, as I look back on it, I’m so embarrassed. I remember I started on the floor—it was a slow song, and I came up. [He wiggles his arms.] And right about when I started to dance, they cut me and said, “That’s enough.” But everybody said, “They need boys, they’ll take you.” For our first ballet class, our teacher said, “You have all the ballet attire? Ballet shoes, tights, dance belt?” And everybody said, “Yes, yes.” I had no idea what a dance belt was, so I went to Capezio that same day and I asked for a dance belt; the lady gives me an elastic. So there I was the first day of class: a white shirt, elastic, underwear and tights. And my teacher was like, “You said you had everything!” And I’m like, “I’ve got my dance belt!”

Oh dear.
Yes. And after that, there was a boy there who was just so into ballet. You can see those ballet people from far away: He always watched ballet videos and talked about dancers. At the time, he went to the Joffrey School. I auditioned, and they took me in to take classes after school—technique and partnering—but that didn’t really last. I didn’t really like it there. The atmosphere felt a little too competitive. At the time, I felt it wasn’t very friendly. I left. And I was still playing baseball a lot. I guess it takes you a while to figure out that you want to do that as your career. I didn’t think I was going to be where I am now until I got there. [Cracks up]

What happened?
I was taking class and I liked it and I got a lot of attention. They saw something. Or I was the only boy in my class [Mutters] Yeah. That’s it, probably.

What was easy for you and what was difficult?
Oh, everything was difficult and still is, but there’s a feeling I get when I’m dancing that is indescribable. I just like the feeling of dancing.

So even though you were learning all this impossible stuff, you still had that?
Yeah. I really enjoyed it. And I found out later I wanted to dance because of that. I was enjoying what I was doing even though I probably looked a mess. I’m sure I did. I started wanting to take more classes and to get better, and, at the time, my friend was going to Studio Maestro. And that’s when I met François Perron. He was teaching a partnering class and I guess he saw me. I couldn’t do one single pirouette. I couldn’t do a press lift. In the first class, they had the girls standing in arabesque; you got behind them and you tried to lift them all the way up while they’re in arabesque. I couldn’t do it. I was really tiny. I wish I had a picture of me. Europeans have a different kind of look. Now, I’m Americanized, but when I first came, I had hair parted that way [He sweeps his hand along the side of his head.], tight jeans and a shirt tucked in—I was very proper. It was very funny. I was so small and pale and I probably looked like I was six.

How did you build strength?
I just kept doing it over and over again. Partnering is all timing too. It’s easy once you get it. And that’s when I started realizing that I really liked partnering. I like to partner better than to dance. I enjoy dancing, but to be in a duet with a girl—and maybe because I wasn’t as strong as the other boys who were dancing, I took to partnering more and it became my favorite.

And you worked with Perron?
Yes, I started my sophomore year. He took me under his wing.

Why did he do that?
I don’t know. I guess he saw potential? I really wanted to dance by the time I met François; I was thinking, I want to be an artist. I got my first Nutcracker gig and I told my parents, “I don’t want to go to college; I want to be a dancer. I’m a professional dancer now,” and my father told me I wasn’t. [Laughs] So, in a way, I wanted to prove him wrong, too. He said, “You’re not a professional dancer—you don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, “I am a professional! I got paid for what I did!” I was very proud of my first gig. I kept on dancing. I would take classes at Studio Maestro after school. They opened a big studio now under a different name: Manhattan Dance Center. It’s a beautiful place now. I remember not jumping at Studio Maestro because the ceilings were so low. A lot of times, I banged my head. But that’s not important. A lot of people didn’t like Studio Maestro because the space was bad; to me, the coaching was good. And I still see it; the technique could be taught without big jumps. He taught it very classically.

How was the teaching at LaGuardia?
As I look back now, I think my first year was pretty bad. It was a big group and it’s more about modern. I think I was the only ballet person in my class. It’s more based on modern to me because a lot of people go to Juilliard after.

And in most cases, if you’re going to have a serious ballet career, you’re already going to a place like the School of American Ballet.
Exactly. But SAB didn’t take me. I auditioned for the year and it didn’t go well. I auditioned here, too, for the summer program. They didn’t take me. [Laughs] Surprise, surprise. I went to Boston Ballet. Met a lot of good people there. So I graduated high school with a dance diploma. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it, but I have a little sticker that says dance on it. And you had to choreograph a dance with two other students and showcase it, and you had to perform in the concert. I did Don Q, and it was awesome. My parents came to see it. They said, “The partnering was really nice, but when you start dancing, you get lazy.” And at first I was like, “You don’t know what you’re saying,” but it was true. I graduated and took a year off. I didn’t really want to go to school, because I knew that if you wanted to be a ballet dancer, you danced. If you want to be a doctor, you go to medical school. I stayed with François for a whole year and I took baby classes with six-year-olds. I was 17. It’s very slow and very basic, so I got a little stronger and then, in February, I auditioned for ABT’s summer program and I came here. I knew about the second company and how John Meehan took some people from the summer program based on the final performance; there’s always that chance or hope, but, as I went to see the classes, that hope disappeared. In class, there were the top guys and I wasn’t really one of them. It was about halfway through that they cast you in a solo; if you have a solo, that means people are going to see you. Usually, the best dancers get solos. I didn’t have one and I was really bummed out about that. But the director of the Sacramento Ballet came in and offered me a contract. I was stunned. He said he liked my “sunny atmosphere.” What about my dancing? [Laughs]