June/"Pride Issue" cover story
THOMAS FORD • June 1, 2021
Nonbinary dancers are moving the dance world—not simply because they're claiming space within it, but because they're creating and entering those spaces unapologetically. Maxfield Haynes, 24, is one of these dancers—or more aptly, a dance star, who's currently bouncing between dancing full-time with Complexions Contemporary Ballet and guesting with the queer ballet troupe, Ballez.
Haynes, who is thriving in a dance world and, more specifically, the ballet sphere, where the gender binary all but defines a dancer's career, is blurring those lines—and with a confidence that could break through any obstacle. In a wide-ranging interview, we talk with our June cover star about the foundation of their self-assuredness, gender as a constant negotiation and the spaces that grant them real emotional safety.
Let's start at the beginning. How were you introduced to dance?
I started dancing after getting injured during a gymnastics practice—I was a gymnast before I was a dancer—and broke both of my ankles, one after the other. So, I decided [gymnastics] wasn't the best choice or path for me. I took a year off from doing anything, until my dad said to me, 'I think you should maybe look into ballet? I think you'd be really good at it.' So, we went to go see a few dance shows: I remember seeing Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company when the company toured through Louisville, KY, my hometown, and I was like, 'I could do that. I'll try it out.'
There was a small dance academy at the University of Louisville called the University of Louisville Dance Academy—it was sort of this little basement studio, and I remember taking class and just feeling like, 'Oh, this works! This actually feels right!' I liked the discipline aspect of dance, too. But, at first, I didn't think dancing was as hard as gymnastics, so I was treating it as a hobby—for about a year. Then, I remember Complexions Contemporary Ballet came to Louisville, and they performed this ballet called Rise. And Desmond [Richardson, famed performer and co-founder of the company] performed his solo Moonlight. I just remember sitting there on the edge of my seat with my jaw on the floor, thinking, 'This is what I want.' From then on, I put my head into my training; my whole body into it.
Can you talk a bit about the audition process for Complexions?
I started doing workshops with the company at Peridance Center [a professional dance studio in New York City] at the end of my second year at New York University Tisch School of the Arts. I was always interested in auditioning for Complexions, but I never felt ready to actually be in the room with the dancers and try it all out—until that point.
I immediately clicked with Dwight [Rhoden, Complexions co-founder] and the movement style during the workshop—everything really started flowing for me. And [Rhoden] said I should consider auditioning for the company. So, I auditioned in August, the year before my senior year at Tisch, and earned a traineeship. They invited me to take company classes, and just train, be in the room and get a feel for their style. At that same time, I had an apprenticeship with Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, because I had always wanted to dance with them, as well. And they were immediately like, 'You're going on tour, like, let's go, let's make it happen.' So, I was balancing those two companies during my senior year at Tisch.
How old were you at this point?
I was actually 20. Trockadero was really helping me feel this fantasy. It was a real family of dancers who all had a similar light and a similar passion and drive. It just finally made me feel at home, and finally made me feel like I had a community and like I wasn't so different. Because, you know, I always felt different up until then. I was always the one adding little flourishes here and there.
I remember when I trained with San Francisco Ballet, my teachers were just like, 'No, no, you have to do it plain.' They wanted me to strip it all down—cut all the flourishes away. ' Just do the technique,' they'd say. And I'm thankful for that because, you know, technique actually liberates you to make those choices, and to do what you really want to do. But I just remember feeling so stifled the entire time. And then, I finally got to a place [at Trockadero] where they were like, 'Oh no, no, no! Give us all of that—everything that you have, please give that.' I worked with "Trocks" for that year, which took me to the Hamptons (NY) and, later, Berlin.
What did your life look like once you returned to the U.S.?
I got really sick. I got the flu, and I was sick for, like, three months. And that was during the time that another Complexions audition was happening. And so I went to the audition, after being a trainee, and they're like, 'No, sorry, cut. You're not where we think you should be.' So, I finished my senior year at Tisch and decided to turn down my job with Trockadero. I just felt like it would have pigeonholed me a little bit too much—and that I'd only be viewed as a dancer who does drag and is a "clown" and all of that. And I didn't want to burry myself into that niche so soon.
But I'd made a few connections in Berlin from when I toured there, so I went there for the summer. And while auditioning around, I got a call from Dwight—I think in July of 2018—saying that one of the company's dancers had fallen through—and how soon could I be in NYC for an audition. I was literally standing in line waiting to get into a club in Berlin. Dwight was like, 'Well, we have Sessions [a workshop] at Steps on Monday," and I'm like, 'I can be there Wednesday.' So I change my flights and am just thinking, 'I've always wanted to do this, and I'm going to make it happen. This is it. They're saying they have a spot. You just have to prove that you can do it.' So I went in for two days of auditions. I had one day with Dwight; one day with Desmond. And after those two days, I had a meeting with Dwight, and he's like, 'Listen: this is a gamble, and it's going to be a lot of work—you know this, right?' I'm like, 'Yes, I'm aware; I see what you guys do.' And three days later, I got an email saying, 'Welcome to Complexions.'
How was your first month or so with the company?
I almost got fired. Desmond and Dwight were like, 'Listen: You're not giving what you were supposed to have gave.' [Laughter] I was just having so much trouble picking up the steps, because the work is so complex, and it's a deeply integrated system of choreography and of movement that you just have to do until it's really hammered into your body. At one point, they pulled me aside and asked, ''What's going on?' And I had literally just made it into the company, so I told them, 'I promise you, I'm going to get better every single day that I do this. I have to do this at my own pace.' And, thankfully, they were like, 'Okay, let's check back in soon.' And a month later, I was all together—you know, everything was happening. I even got my first review from a publication, saying something like, 'This may be their first season, but it certainly won't be their last.'
That moment was affirming. After busting my ass trying to make sure that I get everything right, it was finally reading offstage, you know? Now, of course, Desmond and Dwight expect world-class excellence every time you step into a studio or onto a stage—wherever you are. So, they've just been pushing and pushing and pushing me ever since. And, you know, things have been progressing.
Has the company felt like a safe space to be authentically yourself?
One hundred percent! I mean, I kind of came in as I was. I walked into class with a sports bra and a pair of tights, and I was just like, 'Hi!' [Laughter] But Desmond and Dwight wanted me to use every aspect of myself in the roles I was dancing. They were like, 'Whoever you are, bring it. Just do you—that's why we hired you.'
You use they/them pronouns. Have you always had that language to express yourself?
Well, gender is a continually developing narrative that I have in my own head; it's a conversation. There was never really one arriving point. For me, it's a constant negotiation, a constant navigation. But, no, I don't think I always had the language. But I always knew that I was not a boy. I always knew that.
I remember after a show with Complexions in Santa Barbara, CA, we had a little lecture-demonstration, and a student came up to me afterwards and asked, 'Do you think about dancing like a man or a woman? Because when I see you, I don't see either. I just see the elasticity and a body in motion.' I was like, 'That's it. That's exactly what I am.' And that's all I'm trying to give. I'm just trying to be myself—and at my core, it's non-gender.
You have called yourself "unapologetically Black" and "unapologetically queer." What does that mean to you?
It means I'm not pulling punches. It means I'm trying not to code switch. It means it is what it is, and what I'm giving you is exactly who I am. I'm not going to dim myself for someone else to understand me. I do think that I am an empathetic person. And so naturally, I do kind of adjust, but I'm not interested in shutting down the way that I express myself—ever.
What does an equitable dance world look like to you?
I'm having a lot of trouble with this right now. Because, you know, we went through this past year, and we're still actively engaging with these structures and systems of oppression that are so inherently rooted in everything that we do. It's literally the foundation of this country—it's America. So, how do we dismantle the "master's house" using the tools that he gave us? How do you do that?
For me—and I can speak most directly to ballet because that's where most of my experience has been—it's about clearing out these gender constructs; not teaching boys to act one way and girls another; opening up the technique. Steps do not have gender. They are muscular activation. You know, your neurons do not have a gender. It's electricity. It's literally just energy. Energy is not gendered. So, I want to see more people like Ashton Edwards [student at Pacific Northwest Ballet who uses she/he/they pronouns and is training in both pointe and in "men’s" classes]. I want to see more people like Connor Holloway [artist with American Ballet Theatre] who uses xin/xins pronouns. I want to see more people like Zachary Torres, who founded the Continuum Community, which is actively working to de-gender the teaching of dance. I also need the directors of dance companies to get it together. [Laughter] And eventually, I don't want gender to have to be this big conversation. I want it to just be. If you're choosing to dance, dance your truth; dance your soul, you know?
But it's so hard. The country was built on traditional conceptions of gender—and so was ballet. So, what do we do? Subtle acts of resistance every single day. Walk into the room knowing exactly who you are, and use it.
Where do you feel safest?
I'm currently working with the company Ballez, and in this community, where everyone is trans or queer or -adjacent, everyone has tried to give a "f— you" to the ballet world. We have Alex Waterbury who sued New York City Ballet—like, that's major. MJ Markovitz is an out and proud nonbinary, trans dancer, as well. We're all kind of operating on a similar level. To me, it just feels safe, and I feel like it's okay to make mistakes. And it's okay to not always be the most amazing. It's acknowledging the wholeness of me—especially coming out of this pandemic. You know, I've been back and forth between rehearsals with Complexions and rehearsals here with Ballez, and it just feels really good here.
What's next for you?
I want to be doing what James Whiteside [principal at ABT] has been doing in my own way. I want to be booking these campaigns; I want to be featured in those same places; but I want to bring my specialness to it. And I want it to be acknowledged and shared, so people can see that it's okay to be Black and be queer and super "faggy." Just be you—and see that beauty, feel that light, feel that joy, you know?
Thomas Ford is a NYC-based dance artist and writer with bylines in Dance Magazine and the Brooklyn Rail. He formerly served as a contributing editor at Dance Spirit. He is a year-round contemporary teacher at the Joffrey Ballet School (NYC), has presented choreographic works at prestigious dance venues, including The Joyce Theater and is currently pursuing his MFA in dance at Hunter College.
