Imagine the challenge: crafting a music video that seamlessly blends centuries of art, film, and theatrical history. Think Pre-Raphaelite elegance, Busby Berkeley extravagance, and classic doo-wop energy. And it needs to look perfectly polished yet feel utterly natural. Oh, and it’s for none other than Taylor Swift.
Yet, Mandy Moore faced the creation of the recent “Fate of Ophelia” music video without a hint of fear. After all, she’s the brilliant mind behind the captivating movements of Taylor Swift’s various eras during her record-breaking Eras Tour. Moore’s expertise effortlessly wove the myriad dance influences of “Ophelia” into a cohesive and stunning tapestry.
It’s genuinely difficult to imagine a dance that Moore, at 49, couldn’t bring to life across the vast landscape of entertainment. Her illustrious three-decade career boasts enchanting routines for hit films like “La La Land” and “Silver Linings Playbook,” alongside popular television series such as “So You Think You Can Dance” and “Dancing With the Stars.” She’s choreographed spectacular numbers for major award ceremonies, including the Grammys, Emmys, Golden Globes, and the Academy Awards, notably last year’s unforgettable “I’m Just Ken” performance.
More recently, her talents have expanded to the worlds of musical theater and opera. She choreographed the upcoming Broadway production, “Dolly: A True Original Musical,” as well as “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay” for the prestigious Metropolitan Opera.
Bartlett Sher, who directed Moore for both “Dolly” and “Kavalier & Clay,” raved about her abilities in a recent interview. “Mandy possesses an incredible gift for translating every human experience, be it a struggle or a moment of pure joy, into movement,” he noted. “There’s practically no creative hurdle she can’t overcome, and her contribution invariably elevates any project she touches.”
Moore’s impressive versatility isn’t accidental; it stems from her unique early training. As a child in Colorado, she delved into both classical ballet and dynamic breaking. “The contrasting nature of these two styles profoundly shaped my understanding of dance,” she explained. “It opened my eyes to the idea that dance could be anything—from ballet’s precise, structured forms to a fluid, athletic freestyle that’s purely responsive to the music.”
Despite her widespread influence, Moore remains largely unrecognized outside of professional dance circles—a common challenge for choreographers. Her identity is further complicated by frequent confusion with the actress Mandy Moore; a fact she playfully acknowledges with her social media handle, @nopenother (as in, “Nope, not her”).
Moore is an outspoken advocate for the recently established Choreographers Guild, a labor organization dedicated to supporting choreographers in the entertainment industry. Throughout her career, she has passionately championed improved recognition and fair compensation for commercial dancemakers. Last year marked a significant step forward when she was invited to join the esteemed Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. It’s a notable achievement, considering fewer than ten choreographers are counted among its more than 10,000 members.
During a video interview, squeezed in between demanding rehearsals and meetings, Moore shared insights into her unique approach to choreography across diverse genres. What follows are edited excerpts from that illuminating conversation.
You’ve earned a reputation as a celebrity whisperer. How do you approach teaching stars to dance?
The very essence of this profession often places me face-to-face with individuals—not just celebrities, but everyone—in incredibly vulnerable states. Dance itself is inherently vulnerable, a feeling amplified by the stature of famous personalities. Some of these artists have even experienced past “dance trauma,” which means I frequently find myself taking on the role of a dance therapist.
Much of my process involves simply entering a room and communicating, “Look, I adore this, and you can too!” It’s about instilling a love for movement first, and then introducing the technical steps.
It appears Taylor Swift, especially, has transformed into a more confident dancer since your collaboration began. How did you achieve that?
For a long time, Taylor had faced criticism regarding her dancing, which really affected her confidence. Our approach involved shifting her focus to the movement already present in her body—her natural inclinations. From there, we simply refined it: “Perhaps we adjust the shoulders slightly,” or “Let’s refine the knee here.”
I deeply admire Taylor’s relentless drive. She commits so intensely to her work. Everything I presented, she absorbed readily. I also appreciate her clear vision; it’s something I thrive on. For me, creativity flourishes within certain boundaries. The directive to “just do whatever you want” often feels like utter chaos.
You’ve been increasingly involved in live theater recently. Was this always a long-held ambition?
Coming from a theatrical background—my mother was an actress and director, and my father an actor—I was immersed in that world from childhood. However, I never actively sought a career in it until it began to unfold quite naturally over the past few years.
The creative process in theater starkly contrasts with the commercial realm. The luxury of time is immense! It feels like you have an eternity to bring everything to fruition. I particularly enjoy collaborating with theater professionals who prioritize character and narrative in their approach to dance, rather than merely using dancers as background ornamentation. That intellectual aspect truly appeals to me.
It’s hard to imagine a more profound or intricate environment than the Metropolitan Opera House.
The Met Opera is an extraordinary place, largely due to their very specific protocols. Again, I thrive on structure! They would outline, for example, “Mandy, you have four days, four hours each, to accomplish these tasks.” And I’d enthusiastically respond, “Yes, absolutely”—whether it was choreographing a festive party scene or devising dynamic, comic-book-inspired movements. For the most part, I felt completely in my element.
“So You Think You Can Dance” marked a pivotal point in your career, and indeed, for dance on television. What was that experience like?
I had the incredible fortune to be part of the show’s initial development meetings, where we brainstormed how to showcase the talents of amateur dancers and meticulously planned the format. Witnessing its evolution, I saw how it not only illuminated the dancers themselves but also propelled the term “choreographer” into broader public consciousness.
The mere concept of choreographers being acknowledged by name in the pre-recorded segments before performances, or having the camera occasionally pan to us in the audience—that was truly groundbreaking.
It’s quite uncommon for dance artists to navigate both the commercial and “high art” worlds. How do these environments differ for you?
Occasionally, stepping into a so-called “high art” setting, I can sense a subtle curiosity—a “What’s Mandy doing here?” vibe. However, that apprehension quickly dissipates within the first ten seconds of rehearsal. Once you dive into the actual creative process, the medium becomes irrelevant. You’re always in some imperfect studio, with a slightly odd mirror, surrounded by sweating individuals, all a bit bewildered, and constantly posing questions.
The intricate, sometimes messy, journey of creation is identical, whether it’s an elaborate opera or a sleek commercial. And to me, that shared experience is truly beautiful.
Having now worked across such a diverse range of media, do you find any one environment feels most like home?
I believe I truly feel at home everywhere. My ambition is to savor the entire “pizza” of my career. If I stick to just one slice for too long, I inevitably start to feel creatively stuck.