Martin Milner trained at the Elmhurst Ballet School before enjoying a decade-long career in the Vienna State Ballet, the Bavarian State Ballet, and the Cape Town City Ballet. He then moved into the world of commercial advertising and film as a dancer, actor, and stunt artist, and is now back in the UK studying veterinary medicine.
After a long and exciting dance career, you've returned home to the UK to study veterinary medicine. How did you decide on this somewhat unconventional new career path?
Martin Milner: It was always sort of part of the plan. My idea was to have a dance career and then transition into something different. I always thought that given we live so long nowadays, you can basically have two lives. You can live your dance life, then you can retrain and live your second life.
I didn't want to be stuck in the dance world without actually dancing. So, the question was what to do next. I was always leaning towards something medical, and I contemplated doing paramedic sciences, physiotherapy, osteopathy, and finally, veterinary medicine, which I settled on in the end.
I really like what you said about having two lives.
Having this awareness and realistic understanding of the profession is always a plus in my mind. In the dance world, you often see some people stick around in roles unsuitable for them, like dancers transitioning into administrative roles when they retire without the necessary admin skills or training. They may not do a great job in these roles, but it's their only way to remain connected to the profession. But there probably is something that they want to do and have the talent to do.
When I was leaving ballet, I had to grapple with the question of identity - if I stop dancing, what am I?
Does your new career choice come from a particular love of animals?
Martin: No, not necessarily. During interviews for vet schools, they often ask this question, which is somewhat of a trap. Many people go into veterinary medicine because they love animals and have a deep compassion for them. I do like animals and enjoy caring for them, and I particularly like the fact that you’re caring for creatures that can't advocate for themselves - that’s extremely rewarding. But when you’re applying for vet schools, expressing a love for animals can be a disadvantage. That’s because the veterinary profession involves dealing with a lot of death and euthanasia, so if you love animals that much, it means that you might not be able to function as well in that profession.
Deciding when to move on is a taxing decision for any dancer. How did you handle that process?
Martin: For me, it was quite an organic process. I was with Cape Town City Ballet in South Africa and we moved from a great facility to a poor one. The floor of one studio was concrete, covered with a makeshift dance floor. Dancing on pointe would have been a disaster. Even as a male dancer, I found it unacceptable. When the dancers asked the director to fix the problem, the director didn't acknowledge that there was one.
At that point, I realised that if the staff wouldn't admit there was a problem, it wouldn't be fixed. I was at an age where I was less hopeful and more realistic. I decided to do the last ballet that I liked, and then move on.
Cape Town has a strong TV and film industry. I had always wanted to try those kinds of things but never had the chance. So, I decided to say goodbye to ballet and see what opportunities the TV and film industry had to offer.
So then you ventured into acting, stunt work, and commercials. Did you consider staying on that path full time after your dance career, or was it just a test?
Martin: I was testing the waters, but the idea was that if this works, it would be a fantastic transition. Many of the gigs I got, including adverts, wanted a dancer who was aware of how the body moved, but didn't necessarily require high-intensity dancing. It was a nice way to stay connected to dance without the intensity and physical strain of ballet..
However, I soon realised that this kind of work was quite unpredictable. Unlike ballet, where you have a regular salary, this work involved a lot of casting calls and sporadic income from adverts. The pay was great, but the inconsistency made it difficult to manage finances in the long run.
I did it full-time for about three years, but I quickly realised that it might not be sustainable for someone with long-term commitments, like a partner or a family. So, while it would be nice to make a career out of it, it seems more suitable as a side venture.
What have you gained from these diverse experiences and from living and working in different cultural contexts?
Martin: I would say language is probably the biggest thing; It’s like a real superpower. As a kid, when asked what superpower you want, you might think of invisibility, teleportation, or flying. But the real superpower is language, the ability to communicate. I’ve gained a real appreciation for the power of language.
Also, living in different places has allowed me to see the diversity of the world. If you live in your town your whole life, you have certain ideals of how the world works. Exposure to different places and people gives you an appreciation for things you assumed were universal. For instance, moving from England to Vienna, Germany, and South Africa, was an eye-opening experience. I learned what works in one cultural context may not work in another. So, I would say, an appreciation for differences is what I gained.
I think dancers who are about to retire don't realise how much they've actually gained from their experiences.
Martin: That's absolutely true. Once you acquire a skill, you tend to forget that others may not have it. It becomes a norm for you, even if they’re quite unique skill sets and experiences. Many people don't work in another country, for instance. It's not a common thing to do and it requires bravery. I think maybe people forget how adventurous they actually are.
In the ballet world, I feel like there is a culture of downplaying accomplishments. Despite having impressive skill sets and ways of thinking, dancers can be almost gaslit into believing that those skills are not that special. Also, when you’re constantly told that the next dancer is waiting in the wings to take over, you work inappropriately hard for the job that you’re doing. I don’t think it’s healthy in terms of work-life balance to be obsessed with this highly niche industry that takes over your life, especially at ages when one should be exploring other experiences.
What were the requirements or the prerequisites for starting vet med school?
Martin: In the UK, we have exams at 16, and then A-levels at 17 and 18, which are pre-university exams. However, I didn't have those. As a mature student, I could take an access course, which I completed in one year, studying chemistry, physics, and biology, as required.
I held a national diploma in professional dance and a Pilates qualification from ballet school, which I was told would be valuable for university admission. However, when I presented these qualifications, the universities didn't consider them relevant. They were primarily looking for age-appropriate students with traditional qualifications. So many university websites say that they value mature students and their life experience, you still need to somewhat fit the mould. I found that quite challenging because I was led to believe that my unique ballet background would be valued higher than it was.
So that was a bit of a glitch, but then when COVID-19 hit, many access courses went online, which was lucky for me. I was able to continue working while studying, balancing commercial shoots with my online access course. I think I was playing a zombie on Resident Evil, doing night shoots and then going home to get through my chemistry subject material. That worked really well for me because I could stay employed, doing some really cool work, all while preparing for this next possible career.
What's it been like being back in full time education again?
Martin: I really enjoy the schedule. I'm looking forward to graduating to get my licence, but not so much the nine-to-five routine that comes with it. Much of my time is taken up by placements; I'm on an equine placement at the moment, which runs from 8 AM to 5 PM. We drive from farm to farm or horse yard to horse yard, so it often extends into 6 PM.
I prefer university life because it gives me more freedom. I can wake up whenever I want, and all the lectures are recorded so I can work through them at my own pace. If someone asks me to do something, I can usually say yes. For example, going to the gym during peak hours after work is crowded. But if I go in the middle of the day when fewer people are there, it's perfect.
So, in response to your question about how I'm finding education now, I'd say I love the schedule.
How did you mentally adjust to the academic workload?
Martin: The workload is immense, it’s absolutely massive, but I think that obviously comes with the degree; you want your doctor or vet to know their stuff. In my first year, I had no feel for the examination structure, and they don't allow students to review past papers. I found some lecturers vague and confusing, and it was very hard to pick out which information was relevant. Then you’ve got this massive body of notes and textbooks, and everything seemed like it was examinable. I definitely overworked in my first year out of fear of failing. If you fail, you can't progress, which makes sense in a medical field. However, failing is costly as you would have to retake the year, which costs £10,000 in the UK.
So my first year was intense. I studied so much that I far exceeded the passing threshold for the exams, which wasn't necessary. In veterinary medicine degrees in the UK, you either pass or fail. There's no ranking system. The workload was very intense in the first year, and it felt like there was little guidance. But once I understood the system, my second and third years were much better.
The transition can be uncomfortable, but the way forward is to recognise that you are capable of so many things and that your job is just one aspect of your identity.
I've noticed you also do some gymnastics, including competitions. Is it beneficial to keep up the physical side of things that way?
Martin: Yes, I really enjoy doing something similar yet still distinct from ballet. If you've practised ballet professionally for a long time, there will be aspects you enjoy and others you don't. For instance, I personally dislike some steps in ballet, particularly double tours.
Doing gymnastics allows me to explore physical activities that share many parallels with ballet but are still new and exciting. For example, a recent gymnastics challenge involved a move called a giant, where you hold the high bar and swing 360 degrees over it. It's such a high when you get it. So it's been really nice to dip my toe into that gymnastics world.
Aside from being able to create your hilarious Instagram videos with farm animals, what are some of the skill sets that overlap between dance and vet medicine?
Martin: That was wild - I've always wanted my social media to go off in some way, but I never expected veterinary medicine to be the thing that was popular.
I remember being on a dairy placement, and on these placements there’s usually a lot of downtime, because you’re just starting and can't contribute much. I remember just hanging out with a cow and I thought, “I’m going to do some ballet with this cow.” Then I posted it and went from around a thousand followers to like ten thousand followers over three days. People really love animals, and people really love dance, and that combination seemed to really tickle them.
Occasionally, while in the yard, I'll do a bit of ballet. It sort of keeps it in my life a little bit. But to answer your question about overlapping skills, discipline is the most obvious one. You have to be highly disciplined to be a dancer, which also applies to any high-level tedious tasks, like studying for an exam for hours. However, a skill I didn’t expect was coordination. During procedures like suturing, intubating, or drawing blood, I noticed that some people have quite poor hand-eye coordination. Dancing has made me adept at learning new physical skills just by watching someone else do it, which I hadn't recognised as a valuable skill until I saw others struggling with it.
So, I'd say if there is an underappreciated skill, it's having a relationship with your body from the neck down. Most people don’t have that same kind of understanding. Ballet dancers, on the other hand, have a keen awareness of their bodies. So I guess the main overlapping skills between dance and veterinary medicine are discipline and coordination.
How has your passion for your goals in life now morphed?
Martin: I’m not sure I ever had just one singular passion as my focal point. You often hear about people dreaming of dance careers or working with animals as children, but I didn’t really have that burning desire to be a ballet dancer or vet as a kid. However, I did know that what I'm truly passionate about, across the board, is doing cool, interesting, and stimulating stuff! Ballet is cool and it just happened to be one way that my passion manifested. You get put in a class, get told you're good, and then you move on to the next level. They suggest you audition for something, you get accepted, and go to a full-time school. Suddenly, you're in a slipstream. Obviously, I enjoyed it, but my real passion involves doing unusual things. It’s unusual to do the splits, it’s unusual to perform onstage - they’re not normal, everyday things. Despite the tedious aspects of any job, a lot of ballet experiences are incredibly cool. I remember performing as the jester in Swan Lake and being carried on stage in the splits, elevated above everyone else. That was a very cool thing to do with your Wednesday evening.
This passion is also present in my veterinary work. Being in a surgical gown and gloves, looking into a body, knowing what to do, that's a cool and unusual thing. So I would say I'm not particularly attached to any one thing. I think I could have been happy pursuing gymnastics or a different science-related career. My core drive is to do cool stuff.
I think that's a really healthy instinct - to hone in on finding that thing that makes you tick. Because if you think your only passion is dancing on stage for other people, then when that has to stop, people might feel a bit lost.
Martin: I think that decisions are often made for us, which isn't necessarily bad. With a career like ballet, which requires an early start, it's a blessing to be placed in the right environment early. But at the same time, it can't possibly have been entirely your choice because you were too young to be making those sort of massive career choices.
However, when your job and identity are intertwined, it can be challenging to separate the two, especially if your job has been a significant part of your life for so long. When I was leaving ballet, I had to grapple with the question of identity - if I stop dancing, what am I?
The transition can be uncomfortable, but the way forward is to recognise that you are capable of so many things and that your job is just one aspect of your identity. Without it, you don't cease to exist. You can still move forward. I think with dance, just like with other very youth-focused careers, it’s going to be very hard for adults to separate their identities from their professions.
When dancers who are moving on into a different career, maybe one that doesn't involve performing, they might struggle with a lack of external validation. Was this the case for you?
Martin: Actually, I would say it's slightly reversed. In ballet you enter the field perhaps seeking external validation, and crave performing and applause. However, I think ballet is often lacking in external validation. Many times, there's no encouragement. Your good work might be ignored while your flaws are highlighted, which on the one hand can be useful as it moulds you into what you need to be, but on the other hand, that means there isn’t actually a lot of external validation. This means you either start desperately craving it in an unhealthy way, or you reach a point where you build a system of internal validation for what you want and appreciate, and what you get out of performing.
What I've noticed in veterinary medicine is that there's actually more external validation. For example, I was drawing blood from a horse's neck for the first time yesterday, and the first time you do anything it’s probably not going to go too well. I struggled, but the person supervising me was very encouraging, using praise as a way to help me. I think for dancers of my generation, criticism was often used as a teaching tool, so for us it can feel odd when praise is used instead. I feel there has been a slight overcorrection in teaching styles in recent years which renders praise a little less meaningful. I tend to think that a nuanced combination of the two ends of this teaching spectrum might be the most effective way to create skilled individuals. However, this could just be the particular teaching style for vet med in 2024.
Regardless, I think dancers have a pretty good idea of their own capabilities and that will assist them when moving on to a different career.
How would you help a dancer face that irrational fear of having little to offer aside from their pliés and tendus?
Martin: I'd suggest sitting alone in a quiet place, free from judgement. I think you’ll very quickly come up with a list of things you’re good at - write them down. A lot of the time, we know we’re good at something but are afraid to vocalise it for fear of dismissal. But I think in that sort of self-reflective environment, you’ll see that you have more to offer. Or it would at the very least highlight the beginning of a path of exploration.
When I decided to pursue a medical career after ballet, it surprised many people in my life. I was met with some doubt, maybe because I’m sort of clownish in the way that I go about things and interact with people. A lot of people who were quite close to me didn’t see it for me, but I was quite happy with what I wanted to do.
I think the people who think that they only have pliés and tendus to offer don't really think that. I think that that's the thoughts of other people. So if you were to sit down with yourself, I think very quickly you find out what it is that you want to do.
Do you think companies and organisations could do more to sort of foster a more helpful attitude towards career transition?
Martin: I don't believe it's the responsibility of a ballet company to help dancers find their next job. A ballet company's job is to put on good ballets. However, it could be useful if there was a resource for those seeking career transition help. The issue for me was that there was a lot of conflicting and misleading information, such as the university entrance issue I mentioned before. The information needed to transition is out there, but it was challenging for me to figure out exactly what I needed. A resource that clearly outlines the inputs and outputs needed for transitioning would be valuable.
Do you have any other advice for dancers who are considering a career transition or are about to embark on this journey?
Martin: I do. The advice I have is the advice my brother gave me when I was undecided between paramedic sciences, physiotherapy, osteopathy, and veterinary medicine. I had applied for osteopathy at University and got accepted. I felt I should go since I had a place, but wasn’t sure if I really wanted to do it. I remember my brother telling me to take the time to make the right decision now. You can't get two, three years into a path and then realise you've made the wrong decision. It would be a massive waste of time. So, my advice is to take a breath, decide what you want to do, and then embark on the path. Don't rush.
However, don't take too much time either. There's a limit because we're all ageing. I was considering a seven-year medical degree in South Africa or a five-year one in the UK. That choice was pretty clear. Making that decision is sometimes the hardest thing, but it's easier to go down a path if you do it with intention.
Top image by Michael Groenewald
