Harper Watters Is Embracing What Makes Him Happy
I read on Houstoniamlife.com you grew up in the dance studio. What or who inspired you to start dancing?
I grew up in New Hampshire. I was adopted. So I grew up in a very predominantly white space. My mom would get her hair cut at this shopping center, so she put me in a dance studio next to it because I had a lot of energy; I was like a crazy kid. But both my parents at the time were college English professors, and I'm grateful for that because they had a knowledge and understanding of what the arts can do for anyone. That's not always the case for families with young black men displaying things that might not be the gender norm, so she put me in dance. At first, it was a space of community. It was where I could feel like I could turn the volume up to 10 on who I was. And so, even though I had rhythm, I could kick my leg, and I was musically inclined, it had much more to do with the girls in the studios and this comfort and this safe space. I was hungry for that. That was what fueled me to continue to want more classes. It's just the classes helped me become a better dancer. Then I discovered people and companies like Alvin Ailey and the New York City Ballet. This idea of having a career as a dancer was so foreign to me growing up in a family where my parents did eight year years of schooling in college. That's where it started, and I'm so fortunate to have been in a supportive environment that allowed my wings to spread and fly. I grew up in the dance studio, and the community element supported that.
Have you only received training in ballet?
I would say yes. I don't know if you're familiar with the show Dance Moms with Abby Lee Miller. That was very much my studio. We would do competitions every week. So I would do modern, jazz, lyrical and hip hop, and we would meet the dancers and compete on the weekend. But ballet was required by every teacher and company to get into the company. It was a ballet audition. Ballet is at the root of so many forms of dance. That's why I pursued it the most. I'm 12 seasons into my career with Houston Ballet, but looking back, I never believed I could be a classical ballet dancer. I thought I had to do modern or hip-hop, which are equally challenging and respected. There's this challenge knowing that I probably wasn't fit for it [ballet], but it was right at my fingertips, and that challenge made me want to pursue it. This idea that it's not meant for me to prove people wrong was enticing to me. I stuck with it, and every opportunity, summer intensive, getting into performing arts high school was just another step in the right direction to making that a reality.
When did you realize that ballet could be like a professional career?
Oh, gosh. When I got the contract. It didn't feel real until I walked in at 18-years-old at Houston in 2011. On my first day in the company, I was like, 'Oh gosh, here I am.' I think I was riding the wave of life and taking opportunities for classes. I got into the second company of Houston Ballet, which is like the minor leagues of dance. Everything was leveling up for me. And it didn't feel real until I got the contract, signed my name and was on stage with Houston Ballet in 2011.
You're the First Soloist for the Houston Ballet and the first black, gay person to hold that position. What does being a first soloist at a ballet company mean to you?
That's an interesting and tough question because when I started dancing, it wasn't like I said, 'I'm gonna be the first black gay soloist at Houston Ballet.' It's so specific. But to have that title and to be able to say that I'm so proud. It's a testament to my work ethic. It's a testament to my family and my chosen family of people who have supported me. But it's also evidence that I trusted myself. I am so proud to have that title. I don't want to get so philosophical, but it's crazy that that's political, and that's a form of protest to say that right now, so it holds more weight. I'm lucky to have Lauren Anderson. She was the first black principal of a major ballet company in the world, the Houston Ballet, and she is still there in the education and outreach program. She is like my ballet fairy godmother. And people like Albert Evans of New York City Ballet, may he rest in peace, Arthur Mitchell and Alvin Ailey and Bill T. Jones, I stand on their shoulders. I'm so proud to have a title like the first gay black First Soloist of Houston Ballet to be in those ranks, but I wouldn't have that without their careers.
Do you have any standout career milestones that just instantly come to mind?
The first time I danced the prince in The Nutcracker was a big deal because I never saw myself as a prince. You think of Disney. I never saw any prince that looked like me or was going after a boy. When this fairy tale classic ballot of The Nutcracker, which we do every year, came around, I said, 'What do I have to change about myself so I can do this?' When it was, how do I embrace everything I am to do it well? Beyond the technical feats of the turns, the jumps and the leaps, how I offered my hand to my partner and how I walked were just as important., It was a real challenge because I thought I had to walk or be a certain way until I shifted my perception of that. My dancing got better, and that role became better. It was a real milestone for me to say you don't have to be the prince you think you are. You can be the prince that I am, so that was a big one.
Ballet is one of the most segregated art forms in the world. What challenges do you face being a black ballet dancer?
There are 60 people in my company, and when I joined at the time, I was [the only] one. It's interesting to walk into spaces and not see people who look like you, accept that as fact, and then say, I will still try and work to do my best. I don't think I realized that when I was 18 years old. I was like, 'Oh yeah, I'm the only one.' But the pressure and stress I'd feel when I'd get into the studio and have to execute something difficult and struggle with it. I thought that was just a physical thing when it was also a social thing. That one has been difficult, but I'm so fortunate to be in a company that has championed diversity, equity, inclusion and access into its walls. There are many more black dancers now, and being the highest-ranked one is a real honor. I think ballet is changing. If I can play a small part in that, that's huge, and being on the cover of this magazine is helping that. You're playing a role in advocacy by championing marginalized art forms and marginalized people. To be up here in a heel and a Marc Jacobs swimsuit is powerful, so I value and appreciate the opportunity to be on the cover.
Your TikTok videos of you showcasing your athletic ability running a treadmill in heels always go viral. What inspired you to start creating that content?
At the time, there were a few other gay guys at the company. One of them decided to leave the company. He wanted to do a night of drag before he left. I was like, 'We can't do that.' At the time, it just felt so wrong to do. I thought that would make me seem a certain way. Social media and Instagram were starting, but he got the shoes and brought them up into our gym. And we were like, could you imagine if we just put these on and then went on the treadmill? And we did it, and we posted it. I was scared to post it because I thought my boss would see it. I thought my teachers would see it; what would that mean for me at work? But we did it, and I closed my phone. I think I opened it a few hours later and had triple the likes. I was like, 'I'm a celebrity. I'm famous,' and it was an incredible feeling. It was the first time I experienced being seen by people who were not just my friends or my little circle of people. I thought it was such a powerful way of reaching new people, and this idea that visibility can be a form of currency was new to me. I thought, wait, I have all these eyes on me. If I continue to do this, I can use this as a way to bring people into my world for what I want to do or what excites me. And it was fun. It was freeing, so I continued to make the videos for entertainment and to bring people into my world. It gave me this feeling of being a superhero. It was this energy that I'd never tapped into, and I wanted to bring more of that into my dancing. I always say I didn't bring the heels into my ballet class, but I tried to channel that energy. That's when I saw a change in my dancing. It's crazy to look back at that first video of me with my friend doing "Fergalicious" in six-inch pink platform heels to now be sitting here doing an interview for the cover of Kolor Magazine in six-inch pink platform heels is wild. I think that path and that trajectory are connected. I'm not saying to run on a treadmill in heels because that's scary. But tap into the things that bring you joy, and make you feel like a superhero because it's incredible what you can achieve.
What does pride mean to you?
Pride has meant so many things over the years. I saw my first Pride parade when I moved to Houston at around 16-years-old. I was like, 'Oh, I put glitter on and run in the streets with my friends.' That was the celebration vibe. Over the years, elements of education have come into it, and it's an opportunity to educate ourselves and understand why there is Pride month, where it started and understand the people who fought for our rights to be able to wear pink heels so freely. Right now, pride is taking ownership of myself and taking pride in who I am so I can be the best dancer I can be. So I can show up every day and work my butt off in class to make art and content I believe in. That resonates with people. Taking care of myself is a form of advocating for myself. It's a form of advocacy. That's what pride is for me this year, and maybe a little glitter here and there.
Who are your favorite designers? What do you like to wear when you're dressing yourself?
Last night, I attended the Pride 50 Awards for Queerty. I wore K.NGSLEY. I love him [ K.NGSLEY], Kenneth Nicholson and Christopher John Rogers. Those are people who resonate with me. It's funny because I feel like I'm Beyonce, meaning she has Sasha Fierce. Her unapologetic, glamorous alter ego that comes out on stage, but that isn't always Beyonce. I'm wearing a tracksuit, a T-shirt and Reeboks as we do this interview because this is one aspect of me when I'm comfortable. But again, I had no idea that putting on a dress would be so political and would make such a statement. It's something that is deemed feminine. This feminine and masculine thing is interesting to me because what is femininity? Are there other words we could use to describe feminine, like softness? Is it [femininity] being vulnerable? Is masculinity showing strength? Is it power? Is it being aggressive? When I put on a dress or a heel, the feeling that it gives me is my Sasha Fierce. I welcome any designer or fashion element that allows me to transform, take on a character and be my Sasha Fierce. Then when I take it off, I'm in the tracksuit, I'm in the t-shirt, and that's kind of my neutral. I love a mood board. I'm a ballet dancer. I dress up and put costumes on for a living. That's my job to transform. Fashion is an element that gives me that as well.
What advice do you have for young black, young LGBTQIA+ youth as they are pursuing their dream in dance and performance and possibly thinking about a career in this space?
I did a solo once, and I referenced this a lot. My teacher at the time said you're never going to get the perfect wave. It's about riding the wave you're given. That always resonated with me because our struggles as black queer people will often be more than others. That might be our wave, but it's about how you ride it, how you approach your work and your life, and how you embrace your identity is how you ride that wave. I think that unapologetically going about life in a way that you can say, this is me, this is who I am, and I belong. I would encourage the next generation of young people, artists, dancers, and young, black, queer youth, to keep going, be visible, and embrace what makes you happy. I feel like I'm a testament to that. And I remember sitting in my room watching Destiny's Child "Survivor," watching TRL, watching Miss J on America's Next Top Model, seeing myself in them and saying, okay, maybe I can take a dance class, I can put on the pink Lacoste polo shirt. Those little steps are freeing and powerful. They lead to being on the cover of Kolor Magazine.
Art Director & Photographer: Ammar Thomas @iam.ammarjamal | Fashion Director & Interview: Nigel Isaiah @nigel_isaiah | Grooming: Walton Nunez @waltonsworld for See Management @seemanagement | Location: The 9 Studios | Special Thanks: Chris Rengifo @chrisrengifo1 Kenneth Courtney @kennethcourtney Courtney Creative PR @courtneycreativepr