Dr Merritt Moore Fold Woman
Posted by marie@thefoldlondon.com BigCommerce on 20th Feb 2024
EVERY FOLD WOMAN HAS A UNIQUE STORY TO TELL
EVERY FOLD WOMAN HAS A UNIQUE STORY TO TELL
‘DREAM TO DANCE ON THE MOON.’
HER STORY
DR MERRITT MOORE
Dr Merritt Moore has shattered stereotypes by pursuing a dual career as a professional ballet dancer and a quantum physicist. Next stop: (hopefully) the moon.
ON HER CHILDHOOD: I grew up in Los Angeles and had a very carefree and creative upbringing. My father was an entertainment lawyer and didn’t want my younger sister and me to be brainwashed by commercials or moulded by the movies. We had no TV. No Barbie dolls. No Disney. Instead, my parents encouraged us to wrestle, make potions and play American football. When I was 11, I begged my parents to let me join gymnastics. I loved it but I was too gangly and small-boned to take it any further.
My mum suggested I take up ballet instead to fix my slouchy posture. I resisted at first as I thought it would be too “girlie” but, within weeks, I was hooked. I was a quiet kid and ballet became a way for me to express myself. When I was 15, I did a school year abroad in Viterbo, Italy, and met Irina Rosca, a former prima ballerina with the National Ballet of Romania. She took me under her wing. Every weekend, I’d travel to Rome to train with her, and would sleep on her kitchen floor. She was more than just my ballet coach, she was my mentor. She would say, “Merritt, stop trying to be perfect. Perfect is replaceable. Do things your own way. Being unique and different is irreplaceable.”
ON COMBINING SCIENCE AND ART: In 2006, I was accepted to Harvard to study physics. I assumed I’d have to quit ballet but there were so many performing opportunities at Harvard that I ended up being able to continue dancing at a very high level. During my sophomore year, I auditioned for major ballet companies around the world. As a Harvard physics student, competing with people who had spent their entire lives at ballet school, I felt very out of place, but I wanted to be able to look back at my life and say, “I gave it everything I had”. I made sure I took something positive out of every rejection, scribbling down notes and feedback. Each audition was like a mini masterclass, and I improved immensely after each one.
After 24 “nos”, I finally got accepted by Zurich Ballet and, two years later, I joined Boston Ballet. I worried because I kept having to ask Harvard for time off, but they were extraordinarily accommodating and encouraging. After graduating with Magna Cum Laude honors in 2011, I began a PhD in Atomic and Laser Physics at Corpus Christi College, University of Oxford. I wrote my dissertation (“Investigating Large Quantum States of Light with Telecommunication-band Integrated Photonics”) in between performing Swan Lake and The Nutcracker with the English National Ballet.
ON JUDGEMENT: I was told over and over again that it wouldn’t be possible to combine physics and ballet; I’d have to choose one or the other. My fellow physics students would hang out at the pub after lectures, yet if I was at the other type of “barre”, I was somehow seen as disloyal and less committed to physics. I often felt like I had to hide what I was doing. Very few people knew that I was waking up at 5am so I could train for four hours before arriving at the lab, and doing ballet exercises in my lunch breaks. The arts and sciences should not be mutually exclusive. Sci-artists should be celebrated, not scorned.
ON HER CURRENT ROLE: After my PhD, I performed with the Norwegian National Ballet and, at the beginning of 2020, I became an artist-in-residence at Harvard ArtLab, exploring the future of robotics and AI. When the pandemic hit and all my ballet performances were cancelled, I thought, “Well I suppose I’ll dance with a robot instead”. I programmed Baryshnibot, a Universal Robotics industrial robot, to perform short duets and I uploaded the videos to social media. They were viewed more than 20 million times and I was invited to appear on America’s Got Talent.
HER STORY
DR MERRITT MOORE
DR MERRITT MOORE
Dr Merritt Moore has shattered stereotypes by pursuing a dual career as a professional ballet dancer and a quantum physicist. Next stop: (hopefully) the moon.
Dr Merritt Moore has shattered stereotypes by pursuing a dual career as a professional ballet dancer and a quantum physicist. Next stop: (hopefully) the moon.
ON HER CHILDHOOD: I grew up in Los Angeles and had a very carefree and creative upbringing. My father was an entertainment lawyer and didn’t want my younger sister and me to be brainwashed by commercials or moulded by the movies. We had no TV. No Barbie dolls. No Disney. Instead, my parents encouraged us to wrestle, make potions and play American football. When I was 11, I begged my parents to let me join gymnastics. I loved it but I was too gangly and small-boned to take it any further.
My mum suggested I take up ballet instead to fix my slouchy posture. I resisted at first as I thought it would be too “girlie” but, within weeks, I was hooked. I was a quiet kid and ballet became a way for me to express myself. When I was 15, I did a school year abroad in Viterbo, Italy, and met Irina Rosca, a former prima ballerina with the National Ballet of Romania. She took me under her wing. Every weekend, I’d travel to Rome to train with her, and would sleep on her kitchen floor. She was more than just my ballet coach, she was my mentor. She would say, “Merritt, stop trying to be perfect. Perfect is replaceable. Do things your own way. Being unique and different is irreplaceable.”
ON COMBINING SCIENCE AND ART: In 2006, I was accepted to Harvard to study physics. I assumed I’d have to quit ballet but there were so many performing opportunities at Harvard that I ended up being able to continue dancing at a very high level. During my sophomore year, I auditioned for major ballet companies around the world. As a Harvard physics student, competing with people who had spent their entire lives at ballet school, I felt very out of place, but I wanted to be able to look back at my life and say, “I gave it everything I had”. I made sure I took something positive out of every rejection, scribbling down notes and feedback. Each audition was like a mini masterclass, and I improved immensely after each one.
After 24 “nos”, I finally got accepted by Zurich Ballet and, two years later, I joined Boston Ballet. I worried because I kept having to ask Harvard for time off, but they were extraordinarily accommodating and encouraging. After graduating with Magna Cum Laude honors in 2011, I began a PhD in Atomic and Laser Physics at Corpus Christi College, University of Oxford. I wrote my dissertation (“Investigating Large Quantum States of Light with Telecommunication-band Integrated Photonics”) in between performing Swan Lake and The Nutcracker with the English National Ballet.
‘Perfect is replaceable. Do things your own way. Being unique and different is irreplaceable.’
‘Perfect is replaceable. Do things your own way. Being unique and different is irreplaceable.’
‘Perfect is replaceable. Do things your own way. Being unique and different is irreplaceable.’
ON HER STYLE: I’d describe my style as a fusion of arty and classy, feminine and empowered. My go-to outfit is a flowy dress that I can throw a lab coat over or a leotard and tights under.
ON HER ROLE MODEL: My mother was a rebel in her own way, who shocked her family of Korean academics by marrying a white guy from America. She was tiny – barely five foot – but was super-sharp and a double black-belt in karate. I can’t think of anyone who was kinder or more generous. She was my number one fan, flying out to watch my performances and sewing my pointe shoes late at night while I studied.
When she passed away in 2013, during the first year of my PhD, I was heartbroken. I put all the walls up. People saw me dive into my work and thought I wasn’t grieving and that I’d moved on, but the reality was that the pain was so intense, I was afraid to properly think about her for fear that I’d crack.
ON HER AMBITIONS When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut and used to identify constellations at night with my dad, so I was thrilled to take part in BBC Two’s “Astronauts: Do You Have What It Takes?”. Col. Chris Hadfield, the former commander of the International Space Station, put 12 of us through a series of physical and psychological tests, such as escaping from an underwater capsule and hovering a helicopter five metres above the ground with just 15 minutes’ tuition. It was stressful and intense but I loved it! I’m getting my private pilot’s license, applying to NASA and I’ve been shortlisted to join Yusaku Maezawa’s dearMoon mission on SpaceX’s Starship rocket in 2023. My dream is to dance on the moon.
ON HER MOST POWERFUL
PIECE OF ADVICE FOR OTHER WOMEN:
‘It only takes one person to make the impossible possible. ’
ON JUDGEMENT: I was told over and over again that it wouldn’t be possible to combine physics and ballet; I’d have to choose one or the other. My fellow physics students would hang out at the pub after lectures, yet if I was at the other type of “barre”, I was somehow seen as disloyal and less committed to physics. I often felt like I had to hide what I was doing. Very few people knew that I was waking up at 5am so I could train for four hours before arriving at the lab, and doing ballet exercises in my lunch breaks. The arts and sciences should not be mutually exclusive. Sci-artists should be celebrated, not scorned
ON HER CURRENT ROLE: After my PhD, I performed with the Norwegian National Ballet and, at the beginning of 2020, I became an artist-in-residence at Harvard ArtLab, exploring the future of robotics and AI. When the pandemic hit and all my ballet performances were cancelled, I thought, “Well I suppose I’ll dance with a robot instead”. I programmed Baryshnibot, a Universal Robotics industrial robot, to perform short duets and I uploaded the videos to social media. They were viewed more than 20 million times and I was invited to appear on America’s Got Talent.
ON HER STYLE: I’d describe my style as a fusion of arty and classy, feminine and empowered. My go-to outfit is a flowy dress that I can throw a lab coat over or a leotard and tights under.
ON HER ROLE MODEL: My mother was a rebel in her own way, who shocked her family of Korean academics by marrying a white guy from America. She was tiny – barely five foot – but was super-sharp and a double black-belt in karate. I can’t think of anyone who was kinder or more generous. She was my number one fan, flying out to watch my performances and sewing my pointe shoes late at night while I studied.
When she passed away in 2013, during the first year of my PhD, I was heartbroken. I put all the walls up. People saw me dive into my work and thought I wasn’t grieving and that I’d moved on, but the reality was that the pain was so intense, I was afraid to properly think about her for fear that I’d crack.
‘I wanted to be an astronaut and used to identify constellations at night with my dad.’
‘I always have regular body massages and facials. I don’t feel any guilt when it comes to self-care!’
ON HER AMBITION: When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut and used to identify constellations at night with my dad, so I was thrilled to take part in BBC Two’s “Astronauts: Do You Have What It Takes?”. Col. Chris Hadfield, the former commander of the International Space Station, put 12 of us through a series of physical and psychological tests, such as escaping from an underwater capsule and hovering a helicopter five metres above the ground with just 15 minutes’ tuition. It was stressful and intense but I loved it! I’m getting my private pilot’s license, applying to NASA and I’ve been shortlisted to join Yusaku Maezawa’s dearMoon mission on SpaceX’s Starship rocket in 2023. My dream is to dance on the moon.
ON HER MOST POWERFUL PIECE OF ADVICE TO OTHER WOMEN
‘It only takes one person to make the impossible possible.’
‘Don’t be afraid of change. Life never stays the same.’