Queer The Ballet is made up of an amazing group of people, who work to make mainstream visibility for all LGBTQ+ artists a priority in the world of ballet. They work through live performances, groundbreaking dance on film, and education, to create diverse queer representation and evolve ballet’s future.
We were lucky enough to sit down with their founder, Adriana Pierce, to chat about navigating the world of ballet as a queer woman, Queer The Ballet’s pioneering work and her vision for a more inclusive world.
Can you tell our readers a bit more about your experience of the dance world, and at what point you thought, “I need to queer this shit up a bit”?
Well, it’s interesting because I came out when I was at The School of American Ballet. I was maybe 17 at the time. I don’t want to say I felt powerless then, but I definitely felt like I was always pushing against these walls. Instead of being like, “I’m going to change everything”, I turned it inwards, and it was more like, “I’m not good enough.”
I think a lot of my early career there was a lot of self-loathing, instead of being active or actionable about my frustrations. I think it took me a little bit of time to feel like I was empowered enough to make changes.
All the things I say and advocate for now I’ve been saying for years. Back then, everyone around me in the ballet company would kind of be like, “Oh, she’s just being sensitive” or whatever. But the ideas have always been there.
When you’re in the middle of that world it’s hard – it’s like you’re trying to ascribe to what’s expected of you just to survive. It was outside of the studio where I was doing most of the exploring in terms of my identity, my body, and my expression. Coming into the studio was like, “Okay, I’m going to put on my lipstick and survive”.
Honestly, for me, it took the pandemic, which is crazy to say, but it took wiping everything away. I lost years of work in one fell swoop. I was at the height of isolation and quarantine, and it took that to enable me to look forward and say, “No. There’s so much change, there’s so much work to be done, and I think I’m the person to do it.” I felt ready to do it.
So much of what you say about Covid as a turning point is familiar to so many. A lot of people were forced to slow down, step back and take the time to reflect, with no distractions…
But I’m also impatient. Covid meant that I now know what it’s like to not have my life and my work – to not be able to create and express, to connect and have community.
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I spent so long in professional ballet, thinking I was the only openly queer woman in that world, and that is so false. But I was never allowed to think that I was part of something larger than myself. I was never allowed to feel a sense of community and a sense of strength in that. The pandemic made me decide that I wouldn’t accept that anymore.
Especially in my work – my work as a choreographer has always been queer. I’m, like, so queer, and you can see that in all my shit. I think I was ready to step into my full self and bring my full self into the studio in a way that I hadn’t before. The pandemic brought a sense of urgency, for me at least – what kind of art are we going to make? How are we going to make artists fucking comfortable in creating that work? How can we lean in for the artists and the audiences, and have some higher stakes with what we’re creating?
What you’re doing is pioneering, in the truest sense of the word, for queer and non-binary people in the dance world. Breaking new ground is never easy. What was the response like when you first started Queer The Ballet and has it changed over time?
I get all sorts of messages from people all over the world. A lot of it is, “I’ve been waiting for this” or people saying, “I had to leave ballet because I didn’t think there was space for me there.” Now young people say that it’s exciting and they feel like there’s a space for them to come into the dance world, and that really keeps me going.
When I put out a queer work, I do get a lot of comments – like people need to qualify the work in certain ways. What type of queerness? Or is it queer enough? And I think that has, recently, started to really bug me. You know we shouldn’t read reviews, that’s not what the work is about, but it is an interesting litmus test to see where the world is at and how people are perceiving the work.
There’s this claim that if I have two women dancing, who have a sensuality between them, and there’s an affection that might not be overtly sexual, that men might think that those women should be sexual with each other. That somehow it isn’t queer enough. But I think that I’m trying to push this idea of queerness and ballet, not just two women making out, that’s just one part of sexualization or exploration of identity on stage.
Anything that exists outside the normative binary of what we’re used to seeing two people do on stage is also queering the ballet. Take the physicality of it – what can two people do in pointe shoes with each other on stage that’s different? Even if it’s not romantic, it can still be queering the ballet.
It’s been interesting to get that feedback of like, “Well, if they’re not making out or if they’re not being overtly sexual, then it’s not queer enough.” It’s just such a narrow view of what queerness is when my understanding of queerness, or my expression of queerness, is that it’s a profound questioning: of identity, expression, love and the way you interact with the world. And that should look like so many different types of things.
You’ve spoken about how ballets are traditionally gender stereotypical – not just in terms of the stories but even the steps that women and men perform. When you think about breaking those traditions, do you think it’s a matter of retelling traditional stories in a different way or do you want to throw tradition away and start completely new?
I think we need to attack from all sides.
Like, there’s a company in New York called Ballez, which was created by Katy Pyle, who mostly take old story ballets and reinvent them. Personally, I’m excited about creating new pieces and new stories. I still like to work within the technique that we have as ballet dancers, but I think the actual steps don’t need to be gendered – there’s no reason for that – but I don’t feel that I need to throw away the actual technique in order to say new things with it.
That’s why I do like to work in pointe shoes with dancers, and I think that there’s a way for that to be empowering, and not this kind of harmful or narrow gender qualifier. Specifically with Queer The Ballet and my team right now, we’re talking about new creations and narrative. How are we pushing narrative? What types of stories can we be telling that weren’t written in the 1800s? And specifically, stories that weren’t originally written by men. How are we creating stories for the stage, and telling them in a brand-new way, that gives authenticity to the dancers who are dancing?
That’s kind of where that’s where I’m at, but we honestly need everyone to be doing everything. It all has value.
You focus a lot on giving previously underrepresented people a voice and an opportunity to put on their own work. Could you talk a bit more about that? Why is it important, and what did you find when you listened to people who weren’t previously heard?
I mean: more voices, more choices. We just need more people telling stories and more people listening to them.
I’m so interested to see how the art form can grow and how it can be challenged when we have more people sitting at the table. As Queer The Ballet grows, I’m interested in producing and commissioning works from other artists. It’s something that’s been a part of our mission from the beginning. It’s never just my choreography, we’re always trying to bring in others.
There’s just no reason that we should rely on one perspective when humanity is so varied and so vast. I think it’s exciting to see how we can challenge the art form.
Is there a particular project or voice that you’re really excited about at the moment in the world of ballet?
Well, I think within my own circle there’s a dancer and choreographer I’ve been working with for Queer The Ballet called Lenai Wilkerson – I’m really excited to see where she goes. I think she’s incredible so I will sing her name to the rooftops!
A friend of mine, Alyah Baker, has an organization called Ballet for Black and Brown Bodies. She does a lot of amazing work in community building, choreography and teaching. I love learning from her.
There are a lot of artists right now working in the mainstream sphere that are exciting. Caili Quan just did a piece for New York City ballet. She has a lot of work right now, like everywhere, and I’m pretty excited to see what she’s going to do.
Kyle Abraham is doing really cool things as well. He’s just had another commission for American Ballet Theatre.
Oh, you know what – this is not like queer women or non-binary, but Chris Wheeldon is doing a big Oscar Wilde ballet in the UK as well. Honestly, there are a lot of people who are emerging right now that are doing something different and interesting. I think in general, things are starting to kind of percolate.
We saw that you’re creating a Queer The Ballet community…
Yeah, we’re working on it. We have our community classes and we’re building that. Eventually, we would love to have a place, like our website, where people can come to network and meet people. That’s something that we’ve been working on, but it’s been a little bit put on the back burner just so that we can keep our performances and live programming coming through. It is something that I really want to build more, but no concrete updates…yet.
You’re based in New York. How important do you think New York has been for Queer The Ballet? Does that context lend itself better to being challenged and modernized in a way that other cities might be more resistant to?
There’s definitely a convenience factor in New York because it is kind of a hub, and that’s been integral in launching things and getting dancers because everyone is here.
But I will say that one of the things that we’re working on right now is applying for grants and trying to get funding to tour. Dance in general, but especially queer dance, has a built-in audience here. I think that where we can really have an impact is going to be outside of New York, so it’s something that we’re focusing on. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always pushed to dance on film, especially with queer work, because it’s more accessible to people who are outside of New York who wouldn’t be able to see this otherwise.
Foundationally, New York is so important for us, but we’re trying to tour and that’s a main focus for us at the moment.
That’s sick. Are there any plans to take Queer the Ballet international? Could we see you in London sometime soon?
I would honestly love to and we’ve actually gotten some requests, so the odds are good. We’re going to focus on the US tour at the moment and then we’ll see…
What are your hopes for the future of ballet? What does a world in which Queer The Ballet has had a big impact look like for you?
I think the way that professional ballet is structured right now makes it difficult for big companies to take risks. Most of the commissions and ballet that people are watching exist because these large companies have these endowments. That’s not an environment where they’re going to take risks, and I think that they should.
They hold a lot of power with what the rest of the ballet world is seeing, so, in my ideal world, I want to see even these bigger, mainstream companies being bold – welcoming people in, taking chances on people and having rosters that look more like the communities that they should be bringing in to experience the art.
I want to see more diverse storytelling and less emphasis on these 18th or 19th-century full-length ballets. I think that people should be making actively bold choices in programming, casting and commissioning. That’s what I want to see.
Outside of the mainstream, there needs to be a more financially stable way for smaller groups to be able to make content. At the end of the day, Queer The Ballet can push to do genre-shifting, boundary-breaking shit that The Met or American Ballet Theatre aren’t necessarily always going to do. But there needs to be a legitimate way for those projects to get off the ground – whether it’s an easier path to fundraising or even a sharing of resources.
I think the sort of monopoly on money, specifically, in the ballet world within these large companies is hurting its ability to grow and progress as an art form. A lot of it has to do with money, because, to be honest, there are so many people who are doing such amazing things but who ends up seeing it if you don’t have the resources?
Thanks for taking the time to talk to us today. Are there any final thoughts that you wanted to share with the Nonchalant faithful?
I would just encourage people to get online. You know, it’s crazy, because when we started Queer The Ballet, if you googled queer or lesbian ballet nothing really would come up. But now it’s not just even Queer The Ballet, there’s so much more going on in just, like, 3 years. It’s so cool. So, I would say, go online and enjoy – look and see what’s out there and join the community, because I know what it feels like to think you’re alone in your identity.
Even if you’ve never thought that you’d enjoy ballet or that it had anything to do with you, maybe there’s something there for you now because there are new stories being told. It’s worth checking out because a lot of people are doing a lot of really cool stuff.
If you want to know more about Adriana’s story head over to the Queer The Ballet blog to read about her experiences in ballet and being a queer woman in the world.
And don’t forget to check out our chat with the amazing Pixie Lott as she talks about her new album and the importance of allyship.
Big love,
Team Nonchalant x
By day Maz lives in London and works in marketing, by night she’s writing for Nonchalant Magazine, and by early morning she’s in a bar making questionable life choices
