In this regular Sunday feature, we ask people about 10 things that changed their life. This week, Scottish Dance Theatre's artistic director, Joan Clevillé.

1. Skiving

The National: In the background: The Olympic Stadium in BarcelonaIn the background: The Olympic Stadium in Barcelona

I HAD what you might call a conventional upbringing, in a working-class Catholic family in Barcelona. There are no artists in the family and I have two older brothers. However, they are 13 and 17 years older than me, so I’ve always felt like an only child.

When my elder brother left home though, I was about 11 years old and it maybe unsettled me, as I went through a period of not going to school. I have no idea how, but I managed to get away with it – perhaps because I still managed to get good marks in my exams.

For some reason, I became almost fearful of the teachers. Also I had long periods away from school with asthma – going back to school added to the dread and it was quite daunting.

During those times when I was skiving, I was just roaming around Barcelona. I was going to parks, libraries and museums. I was teaching myself and feeding my own natural curiosity, even rambling around neighbourhoods in the city.

It was a time of finding out about myself. I was exercising my own autonomy, making my own decisions, and learning how to be comfortable with my own company. It was a time of searching and discovering and really did set things up for the rest of my life.

2. Books

ALTHOUGH I came from a family where no-one worked in the arts, culture was always highly valued. My mum was always reading something and my dad had wanted to be a priest.

It didn’t happen for him, but he always had a taste for the humanities, with lots of books and a real thirst for knowledge – I would always find encyclopaedias open at different pages at home. Books and reading were always seen as a way to better yourself, and to open yourself up to the world.

Of course, we all think of Barcelona as an amazing city, a cosmopolitan destination, but when I was growing up in the 80s the feeling was that it was a dull provincial city. We thought it was a bit of a dump, really.

I think that shifted around the time of the Olympic Games in 1992. Our confidence in the city really grew.

However, I had opened up my world by reading – from popular authors such as Stephen King to the classics and great Catalan and Spanish literature.

At Pompeu Fabra University, where I studied humanities, that broadened out into a much wider spectrum of literature, including a lot more contemporary writing such as Nabokov, Virginia Woolf, Garcia Marquez.

By that time that I was training to be a dancer.

3. Dance

The National: Clevillé dancing Swan Lake with Catalan Youth BalletClevillé dancing Swan Lake with Catalan Youth Ballet

I DISCOVERED dance when I was about 16 years old. As a child I had watched musicals on television with my mum, but it always felt like something foreign – it was American culture. I didn’t know you could aspire to do anything remotely related to that.

In high school, when I became involved in amateur dramatics, a friend told me about a summer school that lasted two weeks, where they would do ballet and tap and contemporary and singing and drama – and all this was happening two streets away from where I lived.

There I met a British ballet teacher called Elise Lummis, who ran classes throughout the year. She taught some classes herself, but also brought in visiting international teachers. There was nothing official about it in that it wasn’t a conservatoire. She just organised all of this herself.

Elise got very excited when she saw talent and was always encouraging of young men coming in to dance. Clearly she saw some kind of potential in me and gave me a scholarship.

That completely changed my life. Dance was like a physical sensation that struck me like nothing else ever had. I remember watching the national company of Spain for the first time and thinking, “Where has this been? Where has this been hidden?” When I found it, I never left.

4. Moving to Madrid

The National: Clevillé with his friends in MadridClevillé with his friends in Madrid

I MOVED from Barcelona in 2002 when I was 21. To some people that might seem quite late to leave home, but dance training is a lengthy process and I was studying for my degree at university simultaneously. Those years were really focused, there wasn’t much room for anything else.

When I moved to Madrid, it was to join my first professional dance company, Ballet Carmen Roche.

Being in a new city on my own was a bit of a struggle to begin with. For the first year I was living in a really dodgy shared flat and working in McDonald’s, but then I met some life-changing friends and we all moved into an apartment in Lavapiés, a multicultural neighbourhood with a vibrant arts scene, so it exposed me to trying things.

The city is famous for its clubbing scene and that was liberating. It was during that time that I was finally able to come out after a difficult time during my teenage years. I completed the emotional education that I had missed in a way.

It feels like a bit of a golden time for me, even though we were existing on tuna and white rice every day. Nothing really mattered, apart from the excitement of knowing that I was becoming a professional dancer.

5. October 1, 2017

I THINK that was the saddest day of my life. I wasn’t resident in Catalonia, so I didn’t have a vote in the independence referendum, but when I was on a train that day, the footage of police beating people who were trying to vote began to emerge. I was in tears.

We were on our way to Leeds but stopped over in Edinburgh where a demonstration was taking place in front of the Spanish embassy. We walked to the European Commission office and were surrounded by Scots and Catalans and others. At least I felt I was doing something, as I felt so helpless not being there. The sense of impotence was devastating.

I think that day changed how I feel about my home country and have come to terms with the democratic system in Spain, or lack of. When I was born in 1979, Franco had died, so I always lived in a country with democracy. Then came this sudden realisation that the system is deeply flawed. This was even aside from the question of independence for Catalonia. This inability of the Spanish state to deal with otherness and using power to get rid of legitimate opponents. Having political prisoners in 2019 is unthinkable. On a positive note, people are more engaged now. When I go back to Catalonia, there is a strong sense of participation, with people finding creative ways to action their dissent.

6. Scottish Dance Theatre

The National: Clevillé in the Scottish Dance Theatre production of Pavlova’s Dog by Rachel Lopez de la NietaClevillé in the Scottish Dance Theatre production of Pavlova’s Dog by Rachel Lopez de la Nieta

AUDITIONING for Scottish Dance Theatre (SDT) changed my life completely. At the time the artistic director was Janet Smith, who was such a nurturing, inspiring leader. I arrived into an environment that had artistic integrity at its core.

This was work that had resonance for the world that we live in – not for a specific elite. The engagement that the company had with the communities in Dundee (above) and on tour was inspiring. My audition was in London and I moved to Scotland without ever having been there before. Arriving in Dundee was something of a culture shock. I loved the company but I wasn’t so sure about the place, but after four years I realised that I didn’t want to leave the city.

The warmth of the people, the size of the city, the vibrancy; I can connect to its sense of being straightforward and direct.

I was also encouraged to start my choreographic journey. Even when I did decide to leave and start my own company, SDT was so incredibly supportive to me. I feel there has always been a connection and now I’m back it feels like being home.

7. Injury

AFTER about five years of working professionally I was in Graz, dancing at the Opera House. But then I had a serious injury. A disc in my lower back herniated and I had to stop dancing to have surgery.

It’s strange, but even at 27, back pain had somehow become associated with the job. This really stopped me in my tracks, however. There was a lengthy recovery and being forced to stop gave me time to think. I realised my body didn’t agree with the pure neoclassical aesthetic I first encountered in dance. It also dawned on me that I was getting more pleasure from studio projects rather than big stage performances.

In the studio, with smaller audiences, I could be experimental. Choreographers enjoyed what I was doing, and my body agreed with it. I had to realise what kind of dancer I was. It put things into perspective in a healthy way.

8. Activism

WHEN I joined Scottish Dance Theatre, through my colleagues and the wider community in Dundee I was exposed to several forms of activism. Social, environmental, feminist … I think it’s the kind of thing that once you are involved, you can’t go back.

It also led me back to books – this time by Rebecca Solnit and Naomi Klein. I started reading about the Occupy movement and The Indignados in Spain, finding out how people are engaging as the world is dramatically changing around us with global warming, economic crises, populism...

The hope is that through art and what I do, people’s eyes can be opened.

9. The North

The National: Clevillé by the Old Man of Hoy, OrkneyClevillé by the Old Man of Hoy, Orkney

WHEN I was a teenager, people would say to me “You don’t seem Catalan or Spanish, you behave almost like you’re German or from somewhere else!”

I always wanted to move on and although there are some things I miss about Barcelona, I’m glad my path lead north to Scotland.

The North is a work of mine that explored a fascination with the atmosphere and the light and the mythical qualities.

There are so many connections between Scotland and Scandinavia and that’s one of the things I’d like to focus on in my new role as artistic director at Scottish Dance Theatre. I’ve always thought that this country is extremely open to the world.

10. Mindfulness

MINDFULNESS – focusing on the present moment – is something I discovered about seven years ago, from a BBC breakfast programme of all places. I bought a book to find out more about it.

It gave me a strong framework to rediscover what I would describe as my spiritual life. Being raised a Catholic, then being a married gay man, it has been a struggle at times. From mindfulness I went on to Eastern philosophies, Zen Buddhism, Quakerism – all helping me to reconnect with that spiritual side of myself.

It has also helped with my practice as a choreographer, as one of the things I’m always trying to do is to make performers stay fully present, which is the key to live performance.