That is how choreographer Jeremy McQueen, FCLC ’08, a graduate of the Ailey/Fordham BFA in Dance program, describes his response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

As the artistic director and choreographer of the Black Iris Project, the collaborative dance company he founded in 2016, McQueen experienced the kind of upended plans so many in the arts have dealt with since last spring. He had been scheduled to begin a two-week residency choreographing for Nashville Ballet last May when the pandemic forced the company to cancel the rest of its season.

After the loss of that gig and the postponement of several planned Black Iris Project pieces, McQueen focused on a work he had been considering for some time: a ballet film about New York City youth in the juvenile justice system, taking inspiration from Maurice Sendak’s 1962 Caldecott Medal-winning children’s book, Where the Wild Things Are.

McQueen is releasing the film, WILD, in four parts. After premiering on BronxNet television on March 13, the second part, WILD: Act 1, is available for streaming rental until April 11. The first part, WILD: Overture, aired in November.

Taking Risks and Amplifying Voices

As a director and choreographer, McQueen took inspiration not only from Sendak’s book but also from a photograph by Richard Ross that he saw at the Equal Justice Initiative’s Legacy Museum in Montgomery, Alabama. The photo serves as the cover of Ross’ book Juvenile-in-Justice, part of a multimedia project examining the harsh conditions faced by youth placed in the juvenile justice system.

WILD: Act 1 follows a boy, played by Ailey II member Elijah Lancaster, as he seeks to mentally escape from the claustrophobic room he has been placed in at a juvenile detention facility on his 14th birthday. Through movement, along with music, illustrations, video projection, and audio recordings of interviews, the piece explores the effects of isolation and trauma on the young people who are held in confinement.

“I think this is probably one of the most striking works that I’ve created to date,” says McQueen, whose previous filmed ballet, A Mother’s Rite, was nominated for a New York Emmy Award in 2020. “It’s definitely one where I’ve taken greater risks than I’ve ever thought I could take.”

Part of that risk, according to McQueen, involves wanting to make sure he is properly telling the stories of a group of young people whose voices often go unheard. While he says that he has received positive feedback from practitioners in the juvenile justice field—as well as attention from The New York Times—he is staying attentive to the subjects of the work.

“One of the biggest things that keeps me up at night is wanting to make these young people proud,” he says. “It’s less about the accolades or what can come from it, but I’m constantly focused on how I am able to hopefully adequately amplify the voices of these young people.”

Catharsis and Collaboration

While the pandemic prevented McQueen from filming the piece in a juvenile detention center, which was his original goal, he was able to find creative ways to stage the piece safely. He and his dancers rehearsed the piece both on Zoom and in person during a two-week “bubble” residency at Vineyard Arts Project in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, and it was shot without an audience by cinematographer and editor Colton Williams in the black box theater at the 14th Street Y in New York City.

According to McQueen, completing the project was never in question.

“You have to figure out a way to do this, because if you don’t, you’re just going to vanish,” he says he told himself. “You have to continue to have a presence in some kind of way, and to shift your mission to still connect with community, even if that means connecting with them virtually.

“Art has always been so healing for me,” he added. “It was important to me that I continue to let my art heal me in the sense that this project has been incredibly cathartic for me, but also for other artists that [were]so needing of work and opportunities to creatively stay inspired and stay engaged.”

Along with Williams, the dancers, and a number of visual artists who contributed to the piece, McQueen collaborated with several musicians who provided both commissioned and existing songs to the piece’s mixtape-style soundtrack, including the singer-songwriter Morgxn, whom McQueen had originally been paired with for the residency at Nashville Ballet; former Hamilton cast member Phillip Johnson-Richardson, who goes by the moniker Phil.; and R&B artist Brittany Campbell.

McQueen says that he has learned a lot about directing by diving into the work and experimenting, an approach for which he credits Ava DuVernay, director of films including Selma and 13th, as an inspiration.

“The best way to learn is just to start, and that’s one thing that I’ve really held close to my heart from her teachings,” he says. “Don’t worry about not having the degrees or the credentials, just start playing. A lot of these things I’ve learned how to do out of necessity—figuring out how can I do this and what creativity can I bring to the table to truly diversify the industry in such a crowded dance market.”

‘Bringing All of Myself’

McQueen’s plans for the remaining two parts of WILD speak to his ambition and creativity. For the third part, Entr’acte, he is staging a socially distanced bike excursion throughout the Bronx, where audience members will travel to five locations. At each one, a dancer will tell the story of a young person from the borough who has been impacted by the criminal justice system. And in the fall, he will premiere the final part, Act 2. McQueen says that when he is able to tour the piece, he plans to stage the Entr’acte bike excursion prior to the stage performance in each tour city.

And once all parts have aired, McQueen has even bigger plans for WILD.

“Our goal is Netflix or HBO or Amazon Prime, some sort of worldwide streaming platform,” he says. “That’s one of our goals for this package of WILD with all four parts: being able to see and experience dance on those platforms in ways that we haven’t been able to do. There are TV shows about dance. There are dance documentaries. But there’s not really a dance film of this caliber or nature yet, and we’re hoping to be one of the first to do that.”

Regardless of where WILD takes him, McQueen makes it clear that he will continue to tell the stories he feels are important, even if they have not traditionally been given exposure on ballet stages.

“One of the things that I have to stand very firmly about is being able to bring all of myself,” he says of how he will choose future projects and collaborations. “I feel like in the past, only parts of my Blackness, only parts of my being, were accepted or allowed to be brought into the room.

“I understand that you have to understand your audience, but I also think that it’s important to push boundaries. That’s the only way we can really grow as individuals and as an artistic [community], is to strip away the veil and talk about what’s really happening in our country.”

FORDHAM magazine caught up with the Ailey/Fordham BFA graduate fresh off three Black Iris performances for schoolchildren at the Town Hall in Manhattan in early February. He’s currently at work rehearsing Garden of Dreams, an original piece featuring young dancers from the American Ballet Theatre’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School that will premiere on Ballet Across America’s opening night.

Tell me about the new piece you performed at the Town Hall. How did the young audience react?
Every year, the Town Hall does a Black History Month program that enables public school children from all five boroughs of New York City to experience the arts for free. I created a ballet that outlines the story of five influential artists from the Harlem Renaissance: Langston Hughes, Nina Simone, Augusta Savage, Dizzy Gillespie, and Arthur Mitchell. Most had some connection to Town Hall. I collaborated with a poet named Savon Bartley, who created amazing narration about how these artists were able to express themselves and find solace and comfort. And how they inspired others.

We also took some time to introduce the students to ballet. We taught them some pliés and some physical exercises as well as the language of ballet. I taught them a little about theater etiquette. I told them if they liked something, they could clap, and I said if you see something that you really like, you can shout “bravo.” I was not expecting it, but anytime a big lift happened, those kids were shouting “bravo!”

What was the inspiration behind the Black Iris Project?
Shortly after my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art with a friend. I fell in love with this painting by Georgia O’Keeffe called Black Iris III. Around the same time I had this application for the Choreographer of Color award due at the Joffrey Ballet. I decided to take the combination of everything that was very strong in my life and incorporate it into a proposal for a piece I called Black Iris. When I won, I got to produce it (in 2013) with the Joffrey trainees in Chicago. It ended up being in tribute to my mother, my godmother, and my aunt—three really strong women.

In 2015, I unexpectedly lost my job as a dancer at the Metropolitan Opera. That was what really propelled me to light the fire. I set a goal to produce a new ballet that is rooted in black history—which became, specifically, a ballet about Nelson Mandela.

I also wanted to see how this could become an education tool. We’ve been doing free performances, we did one at Summer Stage in Central Park, and we did a panel discussion at the Schomburg Center where people were able to come and see a preview and hear more about the history of Nelson Mandela. I developed a MADIBA curriculum that I teach in schools. I combine ballet with gumboot dance, which was started in the mines in South Africa—teaching students the idea of expression and communication through movement, and giving them some context as to where these movements come from.

In addition to shining a spotlight on black history, you wanted the Black Iris Project to offer roles for people of color. Why was that important to you?
When I was young I went to a magnet school that was very diverse. But when I went to my after-school ballet class, I was one of very few black kids. I felt very alone sometimes. When I attended summer ballet intensives, I felt the same thing. I found myself really connecting with the one or two black students that were in the program with me. And I would hear things about black [ballet]students in other schools. I dreamed of this social network that would bring all of us together in one room. I wondered how we could make that dialogue even greater, and talk about how we work through challenges and how we can change the narrative.

And it’s been awesome. We’ve worked with 25 dancers from different companies. And not only black dancers. We keep our narrative true to the story. Like in the Nelson Mandela story, in order to see that racial segregation, you have to see the white voice present as well.

One of the reasons I didn’t want to create my own company (the Black Iris Project is a collaborative) was that I didn’t want to take [black dancers]away from their companies and create my own bubble. It’s important for them to stay where they are and create that diversity. If I take them, all we do is segregate ourselves.

The Black Iris Project is appearing in the Kennedy Center’s Ballet Across America, a program celebrating diversity that is curated in part by Misty Copeland, the first African-American principal ballerina with American Ballet Theatre. How has she played a role in in your success?
All of this [the creation of the Black Iris Project] was happening at the same time as Misty Copeland got promoted to principal dancer. Everyone wanted to talk about ballet and diversity, and why it had taken so long for Misty to be promoted. It was a hot topic. I felt like that momentum just kept pushing me forward.

I’ve known of Misty since I was a child. I trained at ABT for a summer so I always kind of knew who she was. As I started to develop the Black Iris Project I reached out to her. She and her team were immediately supportive. She’s been so gracious about using her platforms to elevate others and bringing awareness to those who may face challenges similar to hers. For the Kennedy Center program, she got to pick three ballet companies to be featured, and she selected our collaborative as one of those. It’s very surreal.

How did you come to create a ballet about Nelson Mandela? What aspects of his life do you convey in the piece?
I stumbled upon a piece of music called Madiba, about Nelson Mandela, written by a black composer for a full symphony orchestra. I reached out to the composer to see if we could collaborate, and the next thing to do was see how I could make it a ballet. The composer had various landmarks within the score, what he believed were inspirational moments in Nelson Mandela’s life, but I created more of a narrative. That took a lot of work; to simplify the legacy of Nelson Mandela into 22 minutes is extremely hard!

We focused on his whole life, from his birth to his death, including aspects in the middle that show the division of the classes and the division of the races. We show that fight, that struggle for freedom, for equality. We show how at one point, he did become violent. We show those 27 years he spent in prison, in isolation, and how he continued to write. And we showed him as still hopeful, how he still dreamed of the day that a black man could become president of South Africa.

How did your time at Fordham inspire your work?
Fordham inspired me in the sense that it provided me the educational platform that I stand on. It’s one thing to just be a dancer, but to be a dancer who is knowledgeable about the world—that really empowered me to create work that has an impact on all sorts of people. Dancers tend to live in our own little bubble because dance requires so much discipline and focus. Fordham really helped make me a little more well rounded in terms of seeing the bigger picture, globally, and that is something that has really stayed with me in creating this collaborative.

In today’s world, where race played such a big part in the presidential campaign, and minorities and immigrants continue to face new challenges, how do the arts play a part in making statements about these issues?
With the Black Iris Project, we are standing on the shoulders of people who have done this before—so many artists and civil rights activists, so I feel like we are continuing to build on a legacy. I feel like it’s a huge undertaking, but it’s completely necessary. Art is a medium that makes such an impact. I also think it’s extremely empowering for artists to express themselves during this time. For me, I’m not the type of person to go to a rally—I use my art to express my frustration or my protest.

One of the great things about the Town Hall program is that all the students who came could enter a poster contest about what they saw and write a short essay about it. Right now, especially, people are really finding inspiration from artists, with Instagram and other social media to share art forms. That can impact so many people very quickly.

Interview conducted, edited, and condensed by Nicole LaRosa

Dancing Through It: My Journey in the Ballet

In the final pages of this memoir, Jenifer Ringer quotes the Book of Samuel: “And David danced before the Lord with all his might.” The biblical passage resonates with Ringer, who during a 23-year career with the New York City Ballet, strove mightily to endure the demands of the job. For a time, in her desire for perfection, she struggled with an eating disorder—something that came to national attention after a New York Times reviewer critiqued her performance in a 2010 production of The Nutcracker, writing that she “looked as if she’d eaten one sugar plum too many.” But Ringer, who was raised in South Carolina in a close-knit Christian family, used her faith to face the ensuing media attention and rise above the internal and external critics. During her roller-coaster career with the New York City Ballet—she retired in 2014 as a principal dancer—Ringer earned a bachelor’s degree from Fordham, married fellow dancer James Fayette, and had two children. Her memoir is a charming, candid, and inspiring tale of perseverance—and of triumph over the kind of body issues that plague too many young women.

– Rachel Buttner

As a corps de ballet member of the New York City Ballet (NYCB), she possesses an innate sense of craft that shows in her gestures, however small. It’s a craft she’s worked on all her life.

But Dutton O’Hara, like most dancers, understands that her chosen path has physical limits. Just as her career is beginning to flourish, she is preparing for life after dance and she’s doing it at Fordham.

Given Fordham Lincoln Center’s proximity to the ballet, it’s not entirely surprising to learn that a quiet relationship between the two institutions was forged several years ago through Fordham’s School of Professional and Continuing Studies (PCS). The relationship does not have the imprint of Fordham’s Alvin Ailey partnership, but nearly half of the current NYCB dancers have taken classes here and 26 are currently enrolled.

As a young ballerina, Dutton O’Hara went to the School of American Ballet and could see Fordham’s campus from her dorm. Despite the fact that her family is based in Maryland, she could safely lay claim to the title “Upper West Sider.”

“My mother also did her undergraduate degree here, so Fordham is in the family,” said Dutton O’Hara, who now lives in her mother’s old apartment.

Rene Dutton O’Hara, FCLC ’87, was a media studies major and went on to become a director of advertising and promotion at NBC. She said the Lincoln Center location was convenient while she continued to work and get her degree, much as her daughter is doing right now.

“I liked that it was in the middle of the city and in one building. I worked full time so I didn’t have time to walk a mile to my next class,” she said.

The demands of a career, for both mother and daughter, did little to dilute their Fordham experience. For Rene, the spiritual dimension sets the University apart from other continuing education programs.

“It gives a nice balance and it makes the school more grounded as a community,” she said. “Some may be deeper into it than others, but it’s always there.”

Meaghan said the campus’s proximity to the Koch Theater makes it possible for her to fit in class and library time with a tight performance schedule. The program also offers an intellectual respite from the rigors of practice and performing, though she said the commitment is no less intense.

“As a dancer you know that it is going to take an extra-long time for you to complete your undergraduate degree,” said Meaghan. “It’s really something that you have to be committed to, especially since we’re going to be at Fordham for eight to 10 years.”

Glen Redpath, associate director for admissions at PCS, said strong ties with the School of the American Ballet and the Professional Children’s School, both of which sit within blocks from Fordham’s Lincoln Center campus, helped foster the program. High school graduates from the Professional Children’s School enroll at Fordham during their “gap year” as they await an apprenticeship with a ballet company.

“With Fordham on West 60th Street, we’re at the heart of the dance community,” said Redpath, adding that the benefits are reciprocal. “Most of the dancers are extremely detail-oriented and highly motivated and they bring those qualities into the classroom.”

While Fordham has made its presence felt within the dance community, it’s harder to gauge whether the dancers have made their presence felt within Fordham.

“Our schedules are so hectic that we don’t have time to get up to Rose Hill and be like ‘Go Rams,’ but we’re just as much a part of the Fordham community as any other student,” said Meaghan.

For her part, Rene has no doubts about her own contribution to the University.

“It’s nice to have a legacy kid,” she said.