It’s been almost five years since Daniel Morres and Sina last met for a C-Heads shoot. Now, they’ve reunited — and the beautiful part? The connection was still there, shaped by all that’s changed in between — a little more grounded, a little more sure of itself. “It didn’t feel like a typical photo or video shoot — more like catching up with an old friend and creating some art along the way,” Sina shares.
We caught up with her to talk about what draws her to the air, how her relationship with her body has shifted, and the moments that matter more with time. A shoot full of lightness, movement, and quietly powerful reflections.
How does it feel to be photographed by Daniel again after five years? (smiles)
It honestly felt a lot like the first time: very natural and safe. It didn’t feel like typical photo or video shoots I do, more like catching up with an old friend and creating some art along the way :D It was also kind of special, because it was the first time that I’ve been photographed on my new apparatus, the Aerial Spiral. I was completely in the starting process of it, still figuring things out with that prop, completely experimenting – but even though it was all so new for me, I never once felt awkward or uncomfortable with Daniel behind the camera.
How has your relationship with your body and your art form evolved over the past five years? What feels more natural now, and what still challenges you?
Over the past five years I have learned to not push myself and my body to the absolute limit anymore. I’ve learned to really listen to my body, and I think that’s something that came with time and getting a bit older. Some things just don’t feel necessary anymore. At the same time, I’m really grateful for all the work I put in when I was younger. All those years of training, creating, figuring out my own movement language. It’s something I can really rely on, and that feels really empowering. Body image stuff is still a bit of a rollercoaster. Sometimes I feel super comfortable in my skin, sometimes not so much. And I do get frustrated when my body suddenly says “no” to things it used to do with ease. But I’m also thankful for that, because it’s part of letting go but at the same time what will allow me to keep doing this art form (maybe in a softer, less physical version) for as long as I can.
What does pole or aerial dance give you that nothing else does?
It definitely gives me a feeling of huge freedom and empowerment, but also somehow that is pretty connected to some sort of pressure. There are no words that can describe the feeling of the high when being on stage, being watched and killing it, having a great performance or also just being alone in a room, finally figuring out a new move or in general clicking on what the hell I’m doing – but at the same time, failing and frustration come very close with that… so yeah, the best of both worlds – nothing else gives me that.
“On stage, a completely different side of me shows up — a very confident, bold, present side. Like a ‘stage version’ of myself.”
Many people see pole and aerial work as purely aesthetic or performative — what’s a layer of meaning you wish more people could feel or understand when watching you?
Honestly, this question was really hard for me. I’m trying to move away from always thinking about what people think of me, or should see or feel when they watch me. I mean, people can only feel what they’re open to, and I can’t force meaning onto anyone. I totally understand that many see pole or aerial work as something purely aesthetic or entertaining and in some contexts, it is. And that’s totally fine. But I always try to sneak in a little piece of authenticity or honesty, something that makes my art MINE and with that unique. And that is something I hope people see or feel. I don’t just want to be entertaining or “the one with the hardest tricks” – even if the aesthetic/elegant side is naturally in me I guess. Recently, someone wrote to me saying they love my kind of expression on the spiral, that it is more than just tricks – that watching me felt healing. That really stayed with me. If anything, I guess that’s what I wish people could feel.
Do you have a favorite move or sequence that always feels like “home” when you perform it?
I used to think I had one specific favorite move, but it’s more a type of movement that always feels like home on the aerial spiral. It’s those moments where it looks like I’m sliding down, but I’m actually not sliding at all. Hard to explain, but they feel super satisfying to watch and they feel pretty natural to my body. Sometimes I don’t even notice I’m doing them until I see them on video and go, “ah yes, that’s it!”
What role does music play in your movement — do you choose it first, or let it follow your mood?
To get into a creative process, I’ve realized I’m listening to less upbeat or tempo-driven tracks these days. I still love uplifting energy, but not in an “upbeat” way, if that makes sense. I’ve always preferred music that’s calm but deep, not too dramatic, not too sad, but with a certain emotional richness. One of the things I feel very lucky about: my boyfriend is a composer. He can either create music completely from scratch or deconstruct existing tracks and rebuild them to match the mood and movements I’m working with. That’s been a total game changer for how music flows into my work.
“I’ve learned to really listen to my body, and I think that’s something that came with time and getting a bit older.”
What goes through your mind when you’re up in the air — is it calm, focus, freedom? (smiles)
When I’m in the air there’s nothing else on my mind. I am just in the moment, within my body. I feel focused and peaceful! No worries, no other thoughts. Sometimes my heart races from the adrenaline, but inside, it’s very peaceful.
Is there a side of you that only comes out when you’re performing?
That question made me smile! First of all: YES, there is a side of me that only comes out while performing. It took me quite a while to really understand or accept that myself. In private, I’d probably describe myself as more introverted, at least compared to how I used to be before I started my professional performance career. But on stage a completely different side of me shows up. A very confident, bold, present side. Like a “stage version” of myself that doesn’t really exist in everyday life. I feel most like that version when I perform, but when I don’t feel that confidence, being on stage can feel really hard. Happily, that is not often the case!
How do you stay inspired in your practice, especially after doing it for so long?
I’ve been earning money with my art for almost ten years now, and I started training in circus acrobatics when I was seven, so that is over 20 years now. What I’ve learned is that I really need to make time to create just for myself, not always for an audience, or a specific show, or performance. That’s helped a lot. Also, trying new things: I recently got myself this new Aerial Spiral apparatus, just for research and exploration. No pressure to perform with it right away, just time to play. It’s been such a balm for the soul. So yeah, taking breaks to recharge and to connect with the art outside of the stage – that’s what keeps my spark alive, definitely.
Photo: Daniel Morres @whatugraphy
model: Sina Brunner @sina_.brunner
