How did you first learn to dance?

My mother was a dancer, and then she opened a dance studio. Both my sister and I were kind of babysat there. My sister went on to play soccer, but I stuck with it. Soccer was definitely not my specialty – my mom said I used to dance down the field! 

Did you love ballet from the beginning?

Growing up, I was a very strong jazz dancer. We also did ballet, but it was a challenge. But I’ve never liked putting myself in situations where I could already do something, or was the best at it – there’s no fun in that. That’s how I’ve continued in my career – always surround yourself with people that are better. I’m constantly yearning to learn more.

You received a severe injury in 2019 – that must have been a very difficult time?

I suffered a really bad herniated disc in my neck. It was a very traumatic injury – I woke up one morning and couldn’t move my head without so much pain. To hear: “you’re probably never going to dance again”, or “we don’t know if this is going to heal” – that was really hard. I feel my best when I am dancing, so it felt like a huge part of my being was missing. I was invited to make Thousandth Orange for the Vail Dance Festival. I said, normally I do the movements on myself. How am I going to do that when I can’t move? It was a much different process than anything I’d done before because I had to focus on the dancers’ bodies instead of using my own. I love what came out of it.

Photo: Vincent Tullo

You made The Barre Project with the choreographer William Forsythe during lockdown – how did that come about?

William Forsythe and I had tried to work together a few times but our schedules never worked. During the lockdown, I hit a point where I was missing being creative. It felt like a lot of time was being lost. So I texted Bill and said, I know it’s not ideal, but would you want to make something? And he wrote back right away and said, ‘Well, when would you want to start? Tomorrow?’ We never met in person, but spent every day together on Zoom – it was one of the best times of my life.

Why does dance matter to you?

Dance matters to me because I truly believe that it’s healing. Since my injury, I know that it is healing to me. It’s always been the way I express myself and get my emotions out. But I also believe that it’s healing for those that are watching because it has the ability to transport them to a different place for that moment in time.

Artwork: Bex Glendining

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is the RAD’s podcast – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette. The fifth season of Why Dance Matters also includes conversations with choreographers Dame Arlene Phillips and Francesca Harper, RAD teacher and examiner Ana Maria Campos and Tim Arthur, the RAD’s Chief Executive. Please do listen and subscribe.

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Benji Reid

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What do you remember from your first major journey – from South Africa to train in England?

I came to England when I was 14. In those days people mostly came by boat, so we sailed from Cape Town. I lived in Johannesburg, 1000 miles away from the Cape, so we took a train: the first time I’d ever been on a train. Lots of friends and relatives had come to see us off, I saw so many people in tears. And I felt so guilty because I was jumping up and down for joy. I was just so excited by the prospect of coming to London.

The first big international trip you took with the Royal Ballet was to the USA in 1960?

I turned 19 on the day we flew to America, and we did a five month tour of America. We started in New York for six weeks and then we went the length and breadth. There was a tremendous amount of one night stands – completely exhausting because you slept on the train and then had to get off at eight o’clock in the morning. We were expected to dress properly at all times: gloves and stockings with the seams straight up the back of the leg which we had to climb into in these little restrooms on the train.

Monica Mason as a harlot in Romeo and Juliet in 1965. Photo: GBL Wilson/RAD/ArenaPAL

What was it like to travel during through a still segregated America?

I was reminded of South Africa, because it was like apartheid. A member of the orchestra – a violinist, a lovely guy – was Black. And he wasn’t allowed to play in the orchestra in the south. He wasn’t allowed to travel on the buses or eat with us. I remember writing home to my mother and saying, this is like being in South Africa, it’s horrible. Through the 1960s, we went many times, and it got worse, really, because there were the assassinations of President Kennedy and Martin Luther King. There is nothing like travelling for opening your eyes. And at the same time, we were dancing our socks off, night after night.

How was your first trip to Russia in the 1960s?

It couldn’t have been a greater contrast. Everything was so regimented and people had told us that we would be followed at all times. We were told that we had to keep our opinions to ourselves, not even share them in the rooms, because everything would be bugged, even the bathroom. I remember having somebody who didn’t even hide the fact that he was tailing us. It was such a shock to discover that people lived like this, and that they had so little. But the audiences were absolutely amazing, people with such knowledge of the art form. While we were there, Rudolf Nureyev was defecting to the west in Paris, but not a drop of news got out. It was only when we came back that we discovered what had happened.

Monica Mason in 1964. Photo: GBL Wilson/RAD/ArenaPAL

How did you persuade people to support the campaign for RAD’s new headquarters?

It was my belief in what the RAD gives the world – the importance of young people, understanding and appreciating dance, being well taught, being properly prepared for whatever their career will be. Dance influences them – the ability to communicate, to care deeply about something is so vital.

Why does dance matter to you?

The great thing about dance is that there is no language. It has  taken us to so many places where you can’t really communicate with people: our first tour to Japan, to China, the first time we went to Russia, and then Brazil and Cuba. It’s been such a privilege to be a part of an art form that doesn’t need language. That’s been the great thing, taking it all around the world and discovering that people everywhere seem to understand.

Artwork: Bex Glendining

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is the RAD’s podcast – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you. 

The fourth season of Why Dance Matters also includes conversations with choreographers Akram Khan and Charlotte Edmonds, and the poet Benjamin Zephaniah. Please do listen and subscribe.

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Dada Masilo

Dance Gazette

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What is the biggest misconception people have about dance?

People are finally understanding that ballet dancers are human beings too. We’re actual people! For a long time everybody thought of dancers as unattainable and so glamorous – but actually, we’re just like everybody else. To be relatable is a huge thing in today’s world. Any time you can follow a dancer on social media or see their daily life, you feel: they’re like me, but they’re just a ballet dancer. That’s been a huge thing I’ve seen through my YouTube channel.

How did ballet get its hooks into you??

I started dancing as soon as I could walk. Anytime my parents had classical music playing, I was completely transfixed. My mom tells me that I said, ‘Mommy, I want to be the music.’ Ballet was the only thing I ever wanted to do. The story goes that when I was 18 months old, the Bolshoi Nutcracker was on television. I had a teddy bear with a tutu on, I took the tutu off the teddy bear, put it on me and started dancing. That was it from day one. They tried to put me in other activities at school, but ballet was the only thing that stuck. And it’s still stuck.

Photo: Kathryn Morgan

You went public about the body shaming you experienced at Miami City Ballet. What does that do to a dancer?

Every ballet dancer has something about their body they don’t like. Oftentimes, your weight is criticised, and it’s very difficult to come out of that without some sort of mental struggle or eating disorder. I’ve heard people say to dancers, that was great, if you lost five pounds it would be even better. I don’t know even how this started – because if you look at much earlier dancers like Anna Pavlova, they were never that thin. We’ve switched over into thinking that you have to look like a prepubescent child in order to have the proper lines in ballet. One of the hard things about being a woman is so many of us looked quote, ‘perfect’ when we were 14, 15, 16. You go through puberty and these natural changes and suddenly it’s like, ‘Ooh, now you’re too big.’ I’m just becoming a woman, yet you want me to fight against that? It’s a very worrisome issue in the ballet world. 

What is the one thing that teachers could do to break the patterns that you experienced?

It’s not what you say, but how you say it. I think we need to get rid of terms like ‘Why are you doing this?’ or ‘Why are you not putting your feet like that?’ Why don’t you rephrase it and say, ‘make sure you remember to point your feet.’ You can say exactly the same thing, just in a more encouraging, positive way. I remember the teachers who were encouraging – that’s when I improved. Screaming at students, in my opinion, doesn’t work. You’re damaging them and they’re going to feel like failures, to be quite frank. So when I teach, I find the positive thing, even if I’m giving a correction. What I love about teaching is the mentoring aspect. I like students to walk out of my class happier than when they came in.

Artwork: Bex Glendining

Why does dance matter to you?

It’s my form of expression. It’s my form of feeling free. I’ve never felt more like myself and free than when I’m dancing. I was a very shy kid growing up, a child that would never say anything. Then I would get in the studio and my teacher would be like, Where’d that come from? It’s my freedom, and it’s something that I love helping other people with, because it’s so many other people’s passion as well. For me, it’s just life.

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is the RAD’s podcast – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you. 

The fourth season of Why Dance Matters launches soon. Please do listen and subscribe.

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What sparked your interest in dance?

I’d always loved to dance and been a performer in my house. There was an understanding from my parents that this kid had to have attention! There was a New York City Ballet special on PBS, and I became hooked seeing Albert Evans dancing Ulysses Dove’s Red Angels – I had never seen anything like it. Then I got a gift for Christmas of NYCB in The Nutcracker – and beyond the costumes and amazing dancing, it was the snow scene that was captivating to me. One of the snowflakes was Black – she was really good, and I spent the whole time watching her. She gave me permission to say: I could be up there too.

Was it easy to make the decision to pursue a career in dance?

In retrospect, I didn’t know what it meant to be a dancer. My path to pursuing dance and being here at Houston Ballet has always been a search for community. The dance studio has always been a place where I could turn the volume up to 10 on who I am. It’s equal parts wanting to be the best dancer I can be, but also searching for a place where my identity and who I am can be at maximum.

Harper Watters and Charles-Louis Yoshiyama in Come In. Photo: Amitava Sarkar (Houston Ballet)

How did a pair of very high, pink heels and a gym treadmill launch your social media career?

There was a group of openly gay boys in the company at the time – it felt like a golden age, but we were probably so obnoxious! One of the boys was leaving the company and walked into the gym one night with two pairs of giant pink heels. We wondered what would happen if we wore them on the treadmill, and one thing led to another. It was very impromptu – we filmed it, I posted it and turned my phone off. When I reopened my phone there were a lot of likes and comments. It was a wake-up call to the power of social media. I thought, now that I have people watching I want to bring them into my world as a classical dancer.

How have you carried that forward?

One thing I’ve learned through my social media career is that visibility is currency. Not necessarily monetary, but the power to show people that they can do it. What I try to do with my social media is to lean into what makes me happy, and if that inspires other people to take that first step then I feel I’m accomplishing something. The series [about previous dancers of colour for Black History Month in the US] I did on social media is my way of acknowledging the dancers who were doing it first – I feel I owe that to them.

Artwork: Bex Glendining

Why does dance matter to you?

I feel I would have answered this differently a few years ago. But right now, dance is about a legacy for me. It’s so important to be confident, unapologetic, authentic, fabulous in what you do. I’m not just doing it for myself but for so many others. Dance matters because I want to continue that legacy. And it’s also really fun to do!

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is a new podcast from the RAD – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you.

The third season of Why Dance Matters also includes Carlos Acosta, opera star Joyce DiDonato and RAD President Dame Darcey Bussell. Please do listen and subscribe.

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What came first: dance or athletics?

I started dancing when I was two. Mum took me along to ballet class and I did tap, ballet and modern for about 10 years. I loved it. I didn’t experience competition until I was at primary school, and was quite shy and was never confident. But I loved sports day and the fact that you could win or lose – I enjoyed that element of competition. It was how I got more involved in athletics – it was black or white, no grey areas.

How do you deal with winning and losing?

Even when I win, I’m very critical of myself. It’s part of being of an athlete, you’re always looking to do better. I’ve always been prepared to fail, but we don’t really prepare athletes for success. At Rio in 2016, I became a double paralympic champion, I was a world record holder, it should have been the happiest time of my life. I felt relief that I’d actually done it, but didn’t enjoy it. It felt good for five minutes, but I then felt very unfulfilled. I’d always felt like a mentally very strong and resilient person, but was suddenly spiralling into having mental health issues. It completely took me by surprise. People think, when you’ve achieved something you’ve dreamt of your whole life, that you should be happy and grateful. I felt very isolated. I completely lost myself and it took 18 months for me to become even a shadow of myself again. Even now, I’m not the same person.

Libby Clegg. Photo: Adidas

How did you enjoy Dancing on Ice?

For me, ice skating is ballet on ice. When I did Dancing on Ice it was so good for me. I was terrible – but had a new-found appreciation for dance. The ice dancers are incredible. You’ve got the logical structure of training and preparation, but you’ve also got the whole artistic and performance side. Since starting athletics I’d never gone back to dance, so it was awe-inspiring. Blind people don’t necessarily have good spatial awareness, and I’m no good at facial expressions, so I knew [professional ice dancer] Mark Hanretty was nervous about working with me. We had a really good conversation: I said, I’m an athlete, I’m very coachable. We absolutely clicked, I completely trusted him and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way.

What difference has your guide dog, Hatti, made to you?

It took me a while to decide to get a guide dog. I was getting very bored with explaining to everybody that I couldn’t see very well and asking if they could help me. I hated using a cane. Hatti gives me confidence: that I can go anywhere and not be judged, because all people want to do is stroke her. Disability can be awkward for other people – having Hatti there makes people more comfortable and feel that they can ask me any questions they want. Hatti’s an amazing dog, she’s been there through a lot of ups and downs.

Why does dance matter to you?

Dance is an expression of yourself, it gives you a sense of freedom. I’m terrible at dancing – but I do like to have a little dance in the kitchen!

Artwork: Bex Glendining
Libby Clegg. Photo: Adidas

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is a new podcast from the RAD – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you.

Our new season includes Carlos Acosta, American opera star Joyce DiDonato and RAD teacher Barbara Peters. Please listen and subscribe to Why Dance Matters.

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Where did the name Rowdy come from?

When I moved to England, I started going into the underground hip-hop scene, but there weren’t a lot of girls. I felt I had a lot to prove, to show I wasn’t scared of no boys. I would be overly confident, very cocky and self-assured. It was all a façade, but the rumour started spreading about this girl that was rowdy and over the top, thinking she’s all that. I started to get self-conscious – but then I thought, I haven’t come all the way to another country to feel small, so I decided to take on the name as a badge of honour. You think I’m too rowdy? Yeah, I am rowdy, and you can’t tell me nothing!

You were born in Colombia but grew up in Sweden. What was your experience of school?

I went to a strict, elitist Swedish school. It was very old-fashioned – they were still beating kids, we had to curtsey to the teacher. Me and my brother were the only black kids in the whole school. This was not an era when neurodiversity was noticed. From an early age I struggled when it came to anything mathematic or science-based. I was told: you’re not working hard enough, make much more of an effort. I tried, I really tried. I excelled in anything creative. I couldn’t work out why I was struggling in maths.

Photo: Robert Alleyne

How did you discover dyscalculia?

When I was 17, I happened to come across a news article about this girl who couldn’t see numbers the same way as normal people could. I thought, this girl is describing how I see the world. I’d never heard of ‘dyscalculia’ – but it was like a stone dropping from my chest. It took a while to convince my parents and school, but it completely changed my world.

When did dance come into your life?

Dance was always there. When I was three years old I was moving around the house. I loved watching dance videos and would practice by myself. It was natural to me. I’d been to a dance class where the teacher said, ‘You’re really terrible – you shouldn’t come back.’ He said that in front of all the students. Then I went to another dance class – and there was this tall Black man, in baggy clothing, playing music I’d heard on the radio, with the biggest smile. It was such a change. How could I not go back?

Artwork: Bex Glendining

You’ve taught a lot, including on the RAD’s Step into Dance programme. Do you ever recognise your younger self among the young people you teach?

I would recognise myself in kids that would struggle, or were shy, or maybe aggressive because they felt embarrassed. And I would find a way to reach those kids on a level that they would find a safe space. You don’t know about their life at home – dance might be the only relief or safe space for them. So don’t ever turn away a kid or make them feel unwanted in the space. That is my main goal in teaching.

Why does dance matter to you?

Dance was the one guiding light through everything for me. If I didn’t have that, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I wouldn’t have found my voice. I wouldn’t have found a place where I can call myself a trailblazer for young kids. I would have just been a scared little kid, believing she was stupid. Dance really saved my life.

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is a new podcast from the RAD – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you.

Other guests in our new season include the star dancers James Whiteside and Leanne Benjamin, choreographer Ashley Page, the Paralympian athlete Libby Clegg, Hannah Martin who won a bronze medal in The Fonteyn this year and RAD Artistic Director Gerald Charles. Please listen and subscribe to Why Dance Matters.

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Fonteyn 2021

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How did ballet first get its hooks into you?

That would be my sister’s fault! I was into everything sporty. But one day – I was eight years old, I think – I saw my sister Demelza dancing and turned to my mum and said, why is Melzie on stage and I’m sat watching her? It looks fun. Little did I know! Literally the next Monday I went to ballet classes with my sister. On that very day there was an audition – Hull New Theatre was doing The Pickwick Papers with Sir Harry Secombe, and they were looking for kids to be extras. I was cast as a street urchin. I was actually a shy kid. I had a stutter, I couldn’t get the words out, it was awful. I was terrified of performing. But there was a freedom about performing, not with words but with physicality.

When did you first experience the RAD syllabus?

The RAD holds a special place in my heart – it’s a wonderful thing. White Lodge [home of the Royal Ballet School] was very intense, but on Saturday afternoons we had Frank Freeman for RAD classes. He was a marvellous teacher. It was very different to what we were used to. He was much more relaxed with us, and gave us great freedom to express ourselves within the combinations. I wasn’t one of the strongest dancers in my year by a long shot, but Frank always encouraged me – he let me dance and be free.

Xander Parish at the Mariinsky Theatre. Photo: Darian Volkova

Things weren’t working out at the Royal Ballet – how did you end up in St Petersburg?

I was frustrated beyond belief with the walk-on roles I was doing. It was really draining. I put in a lot of extra hours trying to improve and get noticed, but nothing was happening. Then a young Russian ballet master turned up – he was inspirational, gave a really energetic and exciting class. On his last day, I thanked him, and said, before you go, can I show you a few more jumps? I had a half an hour masterclass with this guy, it was really inspiring. Six months later that same man, Yuri Fateyev, became director of the Mariinsky Ballet, and gave a friend of mine a message: tell Xander to come to Russia and dance here.

What did he see in you?

I’ll tell you – because I asked him! I was like, why me? He said, I didn’t offer you the job because you were the best dancer around – but because you wanted it. I could see you were hungry to learn. He liked my attitude, as simple as that.

What would you say to a young dancer in the same situation you were in, feeling they have more to give?

Never give up. Dance for yourself, enjoy what you do. If you have a hunger to learn and grow and conquer your art, you will. Just don’t give up. Sometimes the chances will find you. If you’re working hard and doing your best, believe that it will work out for your good.

Artwork: Bex Glendining

And why does dance matter to you?

Dance matters to me because it’s an expression of the heart. Dance can’t be separated from the person doing it. Sometimes you’ll come across teachers or choreographers who think ballet is just a physical thing, to be beaten into a student to do exactly as they say. But I disagree. Ballet is an expression of the person doing it, and has to be interpreted through the filter of the person who’s feeling and performing it. I dance, not just to execute the steps as they were created 100 years ago – I respect that, but every dancer is a different living, breathing organism of individuality. It’s an expression of who I am.

Why Dance Matters

Why Dance Matters is a new podcast from the RAD – a series of conversations with extraordinary people from the world of dance and beyond. We hope these insightful personal conversations – hosted by David Jays, editor of Dance Gazette – will delight and inspire you.

Other guests in this first season include the film director Gurinder Chadha, choreographer Cathy Marston, ballerina Céline Gittens, doctor Guddi Singh, activist Phil Chan, RAD teacher Victoria Trevino and Luke Rittner, the RAD’s Chief Executive. Please listen and subscribe to Why Dance Matters.

LISTEN The full interview with Xander Parish on Why Dance Matters

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Kathrina Farrugia-Kriel

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