Alysa Liu: Riding a Sunbeam

Alysa Liu is just cut from a different cloth.

She astounded the world when she did off-the-wall things like land a triple Axel, then a triple Axel-triple toe loop when she was a 13-year-old junior.

At a Junior Grand Prix in Lake Placid in August of 2019  – when she was only 14 – she became the first American female to land a quad Lutz at a competition. If you are doing a quad, why not do one of the most difficult? Why dally with a quad toe loop? Or mess with a mere quad Salchow?

She rocketed up the skating world by winning two U.S. senior titles at age 13 and 14, then took a bronze medal at the 2022 world championships. She was 16 and on the verge of so much more. She made it to the Olympics as the team’s youngest athlete  that year and finished 6^th.

Then she quit. On her own terms, on a high (that could have been higher). Saying she had satisfied all her goals. She announced her retirement on Instagram on Aug. 9, 2022. People gasped. She had been on the cusp.

Two years later, she returned, on her own terms. Announced she was back on the ice in March of 2024. She said she missed the adrenalin rush. Just for the fun of it, she tried a double Axel and landed it, first time back on the ice. It was for the fun of it.

After a few non-medal finishes at Grand Prix events, Liu stunned everybody by winning silver at he U.S. championships 10 months ago, without the thought that she would win a medal at all. Then she won the world title, displacing three-time world champion Kaori Sakamoto. It was pandemonium in the Boston rink that day.

Those lofty marks that went up on the scoreboard? She wasn’t even sure what they meant, how they had worked. She was 16 when she had left. She’s now still only 20.

She now has her driver’s license and she’s free. You can see it in her face every day. She radiates smiles now.

And she’s not like anybody else who competes out on the international (or domestic) scene.

She doesn’t get anxious or nervous. At the same time, she says she’s never relaxed. She hates to be bored. She just might stay up all night before she leaves for a long flight so that she’ll sleep better on the plane and arrive without jetlag. She packs at the last minute, to stay awake. Apparently, there’s method to her madness.

“I don’t have too much to fret about,” said the woman who will be one of the favourites with the Milan Olympics coming up in February – and also one of the favourites at Skate America on home soil this week in Lake Placid. N.Y.

“Of course there are times when I’m upset but by things that have nothing to do with skating,” she said. “Life is great. I don’t have much to complain about.”

Since she has returned, she has so much more control over her life. She’s gone back to the coaches that her father fired after she lost a couple of Grand Prix in years past: Phillip DiGuglielmi and choreographer Massimo Scali, who allow her a lot of creative and training freedom. It’s all rather collaborative. Their minds are on the same plane.

She thinks most of her newfound freedom comes from being able to drive herself anywhere she likes, without having to depend on her father, Arthur. She doesn’t live on his timing any more. She’s on her own and can drive to see friends when she likes. In days of yore, she would be training at any number of other places, with various coaches. But now she’s centred in California where she goes to university, studying psychology. She’s at home. So are all her friends.

“It’s like a time right now,” she said. She gets to plan her costumes. She gets to talk to costume designers. “That’s really cool,” she says.

For a person who has now accomplished so much so quickly, and with the Olympics coming up, Liu just doesn’t worry about it. She could easily stub her toe on the notion that now people expect her to win everything.

“One thing about me, which is just irregular in general, is I really don’t have any kind of anxiety,” she said during a conference call. “I have none. In my normal life, nothing. I just can’t. I just don’t have it. “

In order for her to feel any anxiety, it would mean the situation is something she is really counting on or depending on. Yes there is meaning in a good result, but she finds meaning in the art of it all. “And there’s no way to go wrong with that,” she said. “Even with mistakes, art can still be beautiful.”

If she misses some technical thing, there is still a story to her movement. She can appreciate that. “If say, I’m at the Olympics and I mess up on a jump, or a few jumps and I totally do bad, it doesn’t matter about the placement. It doesn’t seem like a horrible situation.”

Who on earth in the skating world thinks like that? Could others learn from her? Drink from the same cup? Easier said than done.

“I would still be okay,” she said. “If it were a movie, I’d watch that movie still. And also there are other things I have in my life that keep me good.”

There’s also another chance to perform better, she reasons. Never mind that four-minutes-mean-all thing. “I guess the worst part of that would be people seeing me do bad, and then not see how a good program looks.”

But in her mind, there is always a solution. She can always record herself doing a good program and then post it and hope more people see that. That’s her mental backup.

Her other mental backup is her circle of friends, some of them formerly part of the skating world, others not. “But to me, human connection is so important,” she says. “My friends are really great and I love being a good friend. That fulfills me in a way.”

She does talk about skating with them at times. Or she talks about whatever is on her mind.  She loves to talk about costumes with them, or listen to music that she could use. “I just need confirmation from them. Is this good? What should I change?”

Her friends are like an audience, so their perspective is valuable. And she trusts their input. “They really do keep me grounded,” she said.

Any time she doesn’t feel grounded, she hangs out with them. “Everything is good in my life,” she said. “Everything is fine.”

A few days ago, when she and her friends were “going through a mid-life crisis” (hilarious for twenty-somethings), they got together late at night but by the end, they were laughing, “having the time of our lives.”

And so, she could see maybe everything was okay. She and her friends are on the same wavelength, with the same values and passions about something. “It’s really perfect,” Liu said. “And we’re still all very childish.” They talk about their dreams.

If she has no anxiety, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about doing well on the ice. She’s actually quite picky about her work. “Of course, I want to do well,” she said. “I want to do a clean program, with my choreography looking good, and the spins and no mishaps. I want to be fully proud of my performance. Would I post this on my Instagram? “

There is so much to be grateful for, she says. Like her programs. “I’m given my space and my creative freedom,” she said. “So I’m really able to have my programs be really personal. That’s what I want. I want my programs to feel personal for myself and for my fans, too. It’s just more enjoyable.”

A case in point is the short program she’s bringing back from last season, to “Promise,” by one of her favourite artists, Laufey. Laufey is cut from a different cloth too. There are so many similarities to Liu. They seem to be two peas in a pod.

Laufey used to figure skate. She’s from Iceland, with a Chinese mother who is a classical violinist, the daughter of a man who taught violin at the Central Conservatory of Music in China.

Laufey has also performed as a cello soloist. She writes music in the jazz vein, with lyrics that make Liu weep. And Liu met her last summer at a Laufey concert. She was in the audience and up the stairs to the stage she went. They embraced.

When Liu skates her short program, she is skating to these words:

I made a promise

To distance myself

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn’t think about

How we didn’t say goodbye

Just “See you very soon.”

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing

With you.

So I didn’t call you

For 16 long days

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose

I’ve done the math, there’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy

Who looked just like you.”

This is who Alysa Liu is. “It would be weird to do something that isn’t really me,” she said. “That wouldn’t be fun.”

Music is so important to Liu. She’s not just a quadmeister. (She really wants to bring the triple Axel back ; “It’s such a satisfying jump,”)

“If I really love what I’m listening to, my body just moves,” she said.

At Skate America this weekend, she will compete her free skate from last season: the epic “MacArthur Park” sung by Donna Summer.

Then she will switch her free skate over to a Lady Gaga medley whose musical cuts are still being made. The choreography for it is done. When this program launches, the triple Axel might come with it.

The issue: she initially used an orchestral cut for “Bloody Mary” that was actually made by “some random Youtuber” quite some time ago. But with licensing requirements now, the Liu camp worried: How could they ever find this Youtuber? “I don’t think it’s allowed because someone made an edit of her music,” said Liu who admits she doesn’t quite understand all the issues. They gave up on using that version.

So they are going back to the original Lady Gaga music.

As for Laufey, Laufey will allow Liu to use her music, no problem. Skaters have been told to reach out to the original artists themselves to make the licensing easier.

Indeed, Liu has some fascinating weft and woof to her that is just not like anyone else. Skate America is just the next chapter.