‘Little Mermaid’ dancers trade fins for legs, learn to walk for the first time

The long, blue fabric sways like a mermaid’s tail, rippling as much through the air as across the stage. At a rehearsal for John Neumeier’s “The Little Mermaid,” two dancers of the Korean National Ballet swim tirelessly — not in water, but through air and across the floor — in pursuit of the most innocent love.

Cho Yeon-jae, reprising the role she performed at last year's premiere, and Kim Byeol, making her debut after understudying, perform the narrative ballet from Wednesday to Sunday at the Seoul Arts Center.

Like the mermaid struggling to walk on new legs, the two dancers were busy learning to move gracefully while “swimming” in tails during a rehearsal earlier this month.

In an interview with The Korea Herald, the two described walking in their tails — wide pants, long and slippery — as a challenge in itself. They must kick the fabric just right so it flutters freely without tangling or tripping them up.

“I’ve developed this strange new skill for kicking it properly,” Cho said. “Even so, I tripped a lot at first — sometimes stepping on my own tail, sometimes someone else stepping on it, or getting tangled around legs and arms.”

And no matter how careful they are, the pants seem to have a will of their own.

“My legs have gotten plenty of bruises,” Kim added. “There’s always a chance it won’t go the way I want. It’s nerve-wracking.”

Swimming with arms and tail

Based on Hans Christian Andersen’s 1837 story, Neumeier’s ballet follows a mermaid’s yearning to enter the human world for love, a journey marked by sacrifice and profound pain — intertwined with Andersen’s autobiographical tale of unrequited love.

“The story teaches us that no matter how much we may love someone, this does not make the other person responsible (for loving us),” Neumeier said at a press conference in Seoul last year.

The challenge of becoming a mermaid doesn’t end with mastering the long tail. The arm movements diverge sharply from classical ballet’s elegant arcs. Instead, the dancers craft port de bras that ripple and wave as if swimming underwater — delicate, fluid and almost primitive in their muscular expressiveness.

To get it right, Kim went to a swimming pool. “I tried moving my arms underwater to feel the resistance — how slow and heavy it is. I wanted to bring that sensation into my dancing.”

For Cho, the trick was finding the right balance — not quite perfect, but not too sloppy. She said last year’s rehearsals involved constant corrections of her arm movements. So this year, she practiced them in advance, but the directors told her she was moving “too” well.

“I had to keep reminding myself that underwater you wouldn’t move that fast. So I focused on moving more slowly, as if suspended in water.”

One of the most striking scenes depicts the mermaid trading her tail for legs. From that moment, she walks on land with agony.

“I’m imagining a child just beginning to walk, unable to fully control their limbs. I want to bring that awkwardness,” Cho said.

Kim studied videos of newborn calves. “They’re wobbly, unsure. I tried to imitate that. I even thought, maybe getting actual blisters would make the pain more real.”

Riding emotions of dramatic ballet

Earlier this year, both dancers took on major roles in Neumeier’s “The Lady of the Camellias” — Cho as Marguerite, Kim as Olympia and Manon. With back-to-back ballets by the same choreographer, they are fully immersed in the world of narrative ballet.

“In drama ballet, you can’t let the thread of emotion drop until the curtain falls,” Cho said.

Kim agreed. “Your emotions guide your movements, so they change every rehearsal, every night, little by little. I think that’s why I love it. That’s the beauty and the art.”

For Cho, the emotional peaks are unforgettable. “In the pas de deux with the prince in the pink dress at the climax — from the scream to the final scene — everything I’ve built from Act I comes pouring out,” she said.

Kim’s favorite moment comes earlier, in silence.

“After rescuing the prince and moving him ashore, my mermaid sisters call me away. I start to follow but I can’t. I turn back to him. That stillness there … every time, it hits me. It’s the moment I realize I truly love him.”

Cho, promoted to principal earlier this year, has firmly established her name among ballet fans and is mindful of the responsibility that comes with the role.

“I know my weaknesses better than anyone. I want to grow into someone worthy of the title,” she said. “With each role, I learn so much. I can feel changes in my body and technique. I want to keep improving and be the kind of dancer who surprises every time.”

For corps de ballet member Kim, the company’s youngest dancer, this is her second lead role in Seoul after December’s “The Nutcracker.”

“I want to be an artist who moves not just with technique but with genuine emotions — someone who can share that sincerity with the audience and move their hearts,” Kim said.