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Justin Peck is slumped in a chair along the mirrored wall of a practice room in the labyrinthine warren of offices, costume shops and studios that lies beneath New York City Ballet. He sits perfectly still watching a dancer move across the floor before suddenly standing and exploding into motion. “Try it like this, maybe, ” he says softly while leaping through the air, his hesitant voice at odds with the sureness of his motions. Then, just as quickly as


This story is from Kinfolk Issue Twenty

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