An Inspired Chat with Daniel Palladino of New York

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Daniel Palladino. Check out our conversation below.

Daniel, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
Lately, fulfillment for me has come from exploring things completely unrelated to dance. I’ve always loved making things—whether it’s crafts, scrapbooking, or bracelets—and over the past two years, I’ve rekindled my love for Lego. I find so much joy in it. I’ve also started to appreciate being home more than I used to. I once felt the need to be out constantly, surrounded by friends, but now I find peace in staying in—taking hot baths, watching Grey’s Anatomy, and enjoying a glass of wine.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am an Italian-Canadian artist, born and raised in Edmonton, Alberta. I began dancing at the age of nine and quickly found myself completely immersed in it. Growing up, I was fortunate to experience both the commercial and concert sides of dance, which shaped me into a versatile performer. I later pursued my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance at The University of the Arts, where I began to develop a deep love for teaching.
Through my professors, I was introduced to a variety of pedagogical approaches and anatomical principles that completely shifted my understanding of dance. Learning to approach movement from a place of longevity rather than exhaustion was transformative. Today, I strive to merge the athleticism of dance with an educational focus, helping younger dancers understand how their bodies work and how to sustain their practice.
I’m currently in the process of developing an intensive program that brings together professional dancers and artists from Alberta and across Canada who have built successful careers in dance. My goal is to show emerging artists in smaller communities like Edmonton that there are many paths within this industry—while also being transparent about the challenges and realities that come with it. I’ve moved beyond the romanticized view of this career and am committed to sharing honest insights so that younger dancers can discover their true passions sooner and with greater clarity.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
It’s often difficult to pinpoint the parts of myself that no longer serve a purpose. I’ve found it easier to recognize the people, activities, and habits in my life that no longer align with who I am or bring me joy. Lately, I’ve become more aware of how much of my time and energy used to revolve around other people’s perspectives and desires. For a long time, much of my drive to dance and create stemmed from a need for external validation — and that tendency carried into my everyday behaviour.
I’m now working to release that need and to cultivate a deeper sense of internal validation and security. I’ve also realized that certain outlets, like going out and drinking, often acted as forms of escapism for me. As I continue to grow, I’m becoming more intentional about building a life that feels grounded, authentic, and less centered around alcohol or the party culture that once felt so present.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
I’ve had many moments when I wanted to give up. Over the past year, I’ve questioned my career more than ever. Continuously pouring so much of myself into an industry that often perpetuates body dysmorphia, infantilization, and exploitation can feel deeply discouraging. I reconnect with my “why” when I step away from dance—spending time with friends and family or returning to activities that genuinely bring me joy.
I’ve realized how profoundly my environment shapes my sense of fulfillment. When I’m not given space to have ownership over my artistic choices, I often feel creatively trapped, which can limit my motivation to keep moving forward. Balancing the expectations of others with my own artistic integrity remains one of my greatest ongoing challenges.

So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. Is the public version of you the real you?
How often do we truly show our authentic selves in public spaces? How often do we feel safe or welcomed enough to do so? I think most people put on some kind of exterior to protect themselves from outside judgment. For many—especially within the queer community—public spaces can still feel unwelcoming or unsafe. I often find myself hiding certain parts of who I am just to get by or move through the world more easily.
Lately, I’ve been urging myself to care less about how others perceive me. Living in a city like New York has helped with that. Still, I notice how differently I present myself on social media compared to how I am with close friends and family. There’s a whole goofy, eccentric side of me that rarely makes it online. I’m not sure the public version of me will ever be the full version. Maybe, in some way, we’re all masking parts of ourselves—for safety, for acceptance, or simply out of habit.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
I recently had a conversation with a friend I grew up dancing with in high school who also ended up pursuing dance. We both acknowledged that there is a sense of urgency and higher value placed on dancing professionally in the United States. I am realizing that perhaps I didn’t take enough initiative when I was younger to research other dance opportunities globally and locally in Canada. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how, during my years of training, there was a strong romanticization around dancing in concert dance companies. Don’t get me wrong—the stability that comes with consistent pay, health insurance, and other benefits is undeniably valuable—but I’ve realized that the narrative surrounding these companies often overlooks the complexities and sacrifices involved. At times, I wonder if institutional art practices can ever truly provide artistic fulfillment, or how often I want to be someone’s muse. There was immense pressure to find work as a dancer in the United States after graduation, as I was on a student visa and couldn’t just work a regular job. For the longest time, I relied on other people’s perspectives to influence my decision-making. What looks good? What makes me appear successful? What will make my family proud? I still value much of my inner circle’s perspective of me; however, I’m on a mission to discover what truly fulfills me—not just as an artist, but as an individual, a brother, a son, an uncle, and a potential partner. I am slowly defining my path and what that looks and feels like for me. I want to cultivate opportunities that feel right and authentic to my artistry. It takes patience and consistency, and I am learning to embrace the unknown in order to experience what I was born to do.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: d_palladino
• Other: Vimeo – Video Reel: https://vimeo.com/1129709926

Image Credits
Aishia lin
Shawn Bracke
Sofia Opel
Kent Barker