She Keeps ‘The Lion King’ in Motion

If there were a job listing for the resident dance supervisor of “The Lion King,” it might go something like this: Seeking an individual willing to commit to 10-hour days, seven days a week; capable of managing 200 puppets and mastering the art of walking on stilts; responsible for overseeing 52 performers while keeping track of every movement in a two-and-a-half-hour production. The ideal candidate must possess the compassion of a social worker, the discipline of a Marine, and the relentless enthusiasm of a camp counselor to ensure the musical remains as fresh as it was when it first debuted 28 years ago.

While many Broadway productions rely on dance captains to maintain the integrity of choreography, “The Lion King” is unique in having a dedicated resident dance supervisor. The show is a massive, ever-moving puzzle that requires someone to ensure all its pieces align perfectly—not only for the story to unfold seamlessly but also to guarantee the safety of its performers.https://svtoday.org/

For the past 25 years, that responsibility has belonged to Ruthlyn Salomons.

Movement is the driving force of the show, Salomons explains. “It’s what holds everything together. It’s not just the dancers moving—everything in the production moves. Everything dances.” This applies to the smallest five-inch mouse as much as to Bertha, the 13-foot-long elephant puppet controlled by four puppeteers inside her frame.

“The demands of this show are exceptional,” notes Michele Steckler, a former associate producer of “The Lion King.” “Maintaining it requires a different kind of attention.” In the show’s early years, Steckler advocated for the creation of a new position dedicated solely to overseeing movement, recognizing that the sheer complexity was too much for a single person to manage. (The production also employs two dance captains, but since they perform in the show, they lack the external perspective necessary to oversee everything.)

A few years into the production’s run, the team brought in Salomons, now 61, whose dance credentials include performing with Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, Mikhail Baryshnikov’s White Oak Project, and even portraying a Romanian princess in Matthew Bourne’s “Swan Lake” on Broadway.

Each night, Salomons positions herself behind the lighting board at the back of the Minskoff Theatre, her eyes fixed on the performers. Her role is to ensure that every step, every gesture, and every moment of stillness is executed flawlessly. Given the show’s intricate staging, rapid transitions, and the interdependence of its cast, potential mishaps are ever-present. Performers have collided mid-scene; puppets have lost their heads—literally.

“The production is so complex that everything feels as if it’s balanced on the tip of a pin,” Salomons observes.

With such a large ensemble, someone is always absent—whether due to illness, injury, family emergencies, weddings, or simply needing a break. Salomons continuously trains swings, ensemble members, and lead performers while also refining sections of the show that may have lost their sharpness over time. Additionally, she ensures Garth Fagan’s Tony Award-winning choreography remains true to its original brilliance.

While only 16 of the 52 performers are professional dancers, everyone must pass a dance audition. Given the intricacies of puppet manipulation, the crowded stage, and the complexity of group numbers, strong coordination is essential—even for those who aren’t trained dancers. And that’s just the onstage component.

Backstage presents its own set of challenges. Performers must swiftly navigate among a team of 100 people, including stagehands, wardrobe assistants, makeup artists, puppet specialists, and physical therapists, all while executing lightning-fast costume changes. Each ensemble member plays at least nine different roles.

“No two days are alike,” Salomons says. “There’s always something new to learn.”

Inside the Dance Bible
January 6, 11:45 a.m.
Before heading downstairs for a brush-up stage rehearsal, Salomons sits in her office, flipping through what she calls her “Dance Bible.” This massive loose-leaf binder, comparable in size to an old Manhattan telephone directory, contains every detail of the show: casting, performer movements, entrance and exit diagrams, stage layouts, and even schematics for the theater lobby, where Bertha is assembled just before the curtain rises.

A TV above her desk allows her to monitor the performance in case she needs to step away for an emergency. Surrounding her are a maze of notes, charts, and schedules tracking everything from scene lengths to song timings.

Training the Giraffes and Lionesses
January 6, 12:10 p.m.
Salomons works with ensemble member James Vessell, training him to operate the towering giraffe puppet. At 5-foot-2, she cranes her neck to give him a correction from below. “You sense danger in the air,” she tells him. “You’ve caught the scent of a lurking cheetah. Every count matters. Your life is at stake. It’s crucial that the performer understands the story behind each movement.”

The two giraffes in the production each require a single performer who must climb a ladder to strap into custom stilts inside the puppet. Salomons herself learned to walk on stilts to effectively teach the technique. Mastering the giraffe’s regal stride and delicate head tilts takes exceptional coordination and can require up to a month of practice.

1:10 p.m. – Lionesses
Next, Salomons oversees eight lionesses in a hunting sequence. “I had to remind them how important stillness is in this scene,” she explains. “After performing eight shows a week, it’s easy to lose sight of the intention behind each movement. But in ‘The Lion King,’ every motion carries a story.”

Perched at the edge of the stage, she follows along in her Dance Bible while softly singing the lioness chant. “I can’t help but sing along,” she says with a chuckle. Moments later, she crosses the stage, adjusting a dancer’s posture to increase the intensity of her movement. “Stealth is key,” she reminds the group. “Stillness is what prepares you for the attack.”

Dance Rehearsal: One Performer, Eight Roles, 13 Scenes
January 10, Noon
At a midtown rehearsal studio, Salomons works with swing performer Jordan Samuels, who must master eight different roles across 13 scenes—requiring 12 costume changes. Assisting her is dance captain Christopher McKenzie, who has performed in every show for the past three and a half weeks. “While I can analyze the show from the outside,” Salomons says, “Chris provides insight into how things feel onstage.”

Showtime!
January 10, 6 p.m.
An hour before curtain, Salomons makes her rounds, checking in with dancers, answering questions, offering advice, and providing encouragement. At 6:30 p.m., the audience begins to take their seats. By 7:00 p.m., the lights dim, the curtain rises, and the familiar golden sun emerges on the backdrop. As the giraffes stride gracefully onto the stage and Bertha waddles down the aisle, the audience collectively holds its breath in anticipation.

10:45 p.m.
After the final bow and a 45-minute subway ride home, Salomons isn’t quite ready to sleep. “I need to unwind,” she admits. “Even after a full day, my dancer’s energy doesn’t stop. Sometimes, like last night, I end up cleaning my apartment.”

After 25 years, what keeps her going? “Sure, there are tough days,” she acknowledges. “But then something magical happens—especially when I work with a new performer.”

She reassures them that mistakes are part of learning. It’s a lesson she learned firsthand as a student at LaGuardia High School when she fell onstage mid-performance. “For a split second, I thought my career was over. Then I got up and realized—if I can fall and recover, I can be a dancer. I can do anything.”