“I wonder if it's a bit weird for me to think this about myself,” Marcelino Sambé prefaces, “but I always look at my story as quite a cinematic story.” It’s not grandiosity that sees the 30-year-old ascribe filmic qualities to his own life’s trajectory. But, rather, a mere pointing out of what’s gone before him.  

When the biographers inevitably do come calling, the logline will be simple – boy from underprivileged Lisbon suburb ascends to the pinnacle of one of the arts’ most traditionally elitist worlds: ballet. In his role as Principal Dancer at the internationally renowned Royal Ballet, the industry’s crest is where Sambé’s resided for five years, since his promotion from First Soloist in 2019, having risen through the ranks since joining the company in 2012. His appointment made him only the second Black male dancer to hold the title, following Carlos Acosta’s monumental tenure in the noughties.

It’s from The Royal Opera House, the company’s home in Covent Garden, that Sambé connects to our call. He’s stationed at his laptop, in his dressing room, the ambient commotion from final rehearsal days for the season’s first offering, Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, playing out in the background. “They’re calling for an egg [to the stage],” he smiles when a tannoy announcement infiltrates our chat. Rehearsal fatigue or not, he has a knack for holding attention in conversation, similar to the expressive depth with which he transfixes audiences on a nightly basis. It’s perhaps driven by the quiet elation he exudes at, these days, simply getting to live out the reality he’s worked so long for.

Paço de Arcos, a village 25 minutes’ drive from Lisbon, is where the opening scenes of a Sambé biopic would unravel. “[My neighbourhood was] mostly inhabited by immigrant people from Africa,” he explains. “Angola, Cape Verde, Guinea, Mozambique – the colonies of Portugal. It had a feeling of almost being a bit segregated.” African music was present every day. “Because African music is joyous, even when you're going through a hard time,” he says. Community gatherings were plentiful. “There would be singing and music and you'd dance.” His neighbours would serve as the first audiences for the seed of Sambé’s talent. They were taken by his rhythmicity but lacked the means to conceive a way of harnessing it.

Marcelino wears vest & trousers WALES BONNER

That was until he joined The Little African Stars, a dance group teaching styles from the continent, comprised primarily of local girls, with the addition of Sambé as its sole boy. “We all just did these mini little shows for the village,” he explains. It was here that a scouting, of sorts, took place – not by the group’s leader, but the psychologist at the community centre within which it was held. “She was like, ‘Wow you have so much talent, you're the only boy, you love dancing, you don't like playing football. Why don’t you go to a school where you can be trained to become a dancer?’”

“It was such a foreign concept to me, so I wasn't really interested in that idea,” he admits. But one element of attending auditions at the National Conservatory, the institution she recommended, did entice – it would involve a trip to Lisbon. “I had never been [to the city],” he says. “I was 10, so I was really curious to go. I had heard about the colours, the trams...” And, so, minus the attire of his fellow candidates, including simply a pair of ballet shoes, he appeared before the application jury. “I was just standing there, this tiny little creature in a tracksuit getting measured and having my flexibility [assessed],” he says. But, his talents prevailed. “I don't really understand how I did it, how I convinced them that, although I had no [ballet] experience, there was something they could do with me.” He would later dance with The National Ballet of Portugal, before arriving in the British capital, aged 16, to attend The Royal Ballet School, elevating into the company a year before his graduation.

The highlights reel since has been extensive, not least following his ascent to Principal Dancer in the years that followed. He’s led the Sir Kenneth MacMillan classics – playing Romeo after becoming known previously for assuming the secondary Mercutio role in Romeo & Juliet;  as well as Crown Prince Rudolf in a 2022 run of the seminal Scottish choreographer’s psychological period piece Mayerling, taking Sambé to Vienna for research to understand “one of the darkest pieces of repertoire we have.” And then there was Manon, MacMillan’s romantic tragedy that saw Sambé embody the corrupted Des Grieux, one of the most intricate he’s played. “The Macmillan repertoire has been really special to me,” he says.  

The career standout, so far, however, was Like Water For Chocolate, a modern entry in the ballet canon, created specifically around Sambé and his fellow principal Francesca Hayward in 2022. Choreography giant Christopher Wheeldon OBE’s story ballet looked to the magical realism of Mexican writer Laura Esquivel’s 1989 novel of the same name. Esquivel was, herself, involved in the two-year development and, naturally, Sambé was at the heart of the process every step of the way. “I wasn't even aware that a ballet took that long [to devise],” he laughs, “because I do ballets that were created in the 80s or 90s. I was like, ‘Jesus…’ There were no days off. I could barely get out and go wild because I was afraid to get sick. But, it was such an amazing process.”

When career greatest hits become as synonymous with everyday life as a morning barre warmup, taking stock of the broader reverberations of his work, and his mere visibility, could be sidelined in favour of simply scaling the next mountain of choreography. He’s mastering three of the season’s repertoire concurrently when we chat. “It’s mayhem at some points.” So, “I get really shocked when I get letters from kids saying, ‘Oh I took a ballet class because I came to see The Nutcracker’ or 'My son never thought that he could be a ballet dancer because he has a big afro,’” Sambé says. “I’m like, ‘My god, I do make a difference.’ There's nothing more valuable than when I feel like I sparked something in someone else.”
 
That potential is integral to the career aspirations that remain within him, despite, notionally, having reached the company’s apex. “When you get promoted to principal, it's almost like you realise that dreams do come true and they can happen in front of your eyes,” he explains. “But then a new journey starts – you want to get new repertoire, connect with a wider audience, start showing a bit of your story. And my story is a complex one.”

While many of his peers have found homes in either the classic or contemporary realms of their craft, Sambé’s technical identity has continued to diversify. “At the beginning of my career, what excited a lot of the directors and the choreographers was my virility,” he says. “But what has been the most exciting part is that I started as this virtuoso technical, but I’ve become more of a creator, more of an original. I’ve found myself in such dramatic depths and more dramatic roles, where I really shed a lot of emotion.” MaddAddam, one of the three pieces occupying his days when we speak, is a case in point. The Wayne McGregor adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian trilogy, “is probably the highlight of my season,” he says. He plays Jimmy, tasked with navigating the semblance of civilisation that remains when a human extermination pill wipes out most of the species. Sambé’s currently bookending rehearsal days by acquainting himself with the character via Atwood’s audiobooks. “To have at least a minimal knowledge of what you’re trying to portray is so important. I don't like flat performances. But I also like the idea of trusting what [Resident Choreographer at The Royal Ballet, McGregor] has done and letting that speak for itself. He’s developing the art form at a speed which is unparalleled.”

Leaning into vulnerability in his performance might bolster Sambé’s portrayal of the Des Grieux and Jimmy characters of contemporary works, but it’s also aided his philosophy in the rehearsal studio. The most surprising lesson of his time as a Principal? “The vulnerability that is required to become a better artist,” he says. “There's a historical idea that ballet dancers are almost perfect humans who can deal with all sorts of difficult situations and always keep their heads high. I’ve been on a journey of dismantling all of that.”

Marcelino wears knit & trousers ETRO