Harper Watters, On his Toes

If ballet and politics were ever a thing, Houston Ballet principal Harper Watters is, perhaps, one of its staunchest advocates. Indeed, adopted at two weeks old by Jan Alberghene and David H. Watters, both English professors until the senior Watters entered government, where he’s been serving as a member of the New Hampshire Senate since 2012, dancer Watters is not only the first queer Black principal at Houston Ballet, but also identifies as a “part-time, high-heeled wearing social media enthusiast.”

In other words: Watters’ talents, including his personal brand of activism, are next level.

Harper Watters. Photograph by Luke Austen

And while his journey is decidedly unique, it’s also one that began like many a Terpsichore’s dream: wanting to dance. Born in Atlanta, GA, but growing up in New Hampshire, the youth became hooked on ballet, and eventually enrolled at New Hampshire’s Portsmouth School of Ballet before going on to study at Walnut Hill School for the Performing Arts in Natick, MA.

After auditioning for and getting into Houston Ballet’s summer intensive at 15, Watters joined Houston Ballet II, where he danced from 2009-2011. Also in 2011, he competed at the Prix de Lausanne Ballet Competition, where he won 6th overall, as well as the contemporary dance award. That same year, he joined Houston Ballet, the fourth largest ballet company in the country, founded in 1965, as an apprentice.

Watters’ rise has been steady: From dancing in the corps in 2012, to demi-soloist in 2016, up through soloist and first soloist, he was promoted to that coveted role, Principal, at the beginning of March, the first such promotion since 2018. Over the years, he’s also performed in a variety of roles, including The Shepherd in Stanton Welch’s “Sylvia,” and Dandini in “Cinderella,” also by Welch, who has been artistic director of the company since 2003, with Julie Kent having been appointed co-artistic director in 2023.

Of a recent performance of Jerome Robbins’ “In the Night,” Houston Press’ Natalie De La Garza wrote that Danbi Kim and Watters “are commanding, dancing with a sense of familiarity that seems almost a boast—particularly during the more dramatic moments, as when Watters holds Kim upside down and ramrod straight.”

And with literally dozens of ballets under his dance belt, such as Balanchine’s “Emeralds” and “Four Temperaments,” Hans Van Manen’s “Grosse Fuge,” and having originated roles in world premieres by, among others, Justin Peck, Aszure Barton and Annabelle Lopez Ochoa, Watters has also performed on several tours, including in Welch’s “Swan Lake” in Dubai, UAE.

So, where, one wonders, do the stilettos fit into the Watters balletic biography?

It began on his YouTube channel, with the groundbreaking web series, “The Pre-Show,” in 2015, where he peeled back the curtain on what it was to be a classical ballet dancer. From there, he and a colleague, Joel Woellner danced in sky-high heels on a treadmill, and the rest, as they say, is social media history: Watters’ Instagram account currently has more than a quarter million followers, while his TikTok videos have accrued more than 600,000 fans, with a mind-warping 17.6 million likes.

He’s also modeled in Ralph Lauren’s limited-edition Polo Pride campaign, as well as being featured in Teen Vogue for National Bullying Prevention Month. And for Elle magazine’s online publication, Watters, now 33, cavorts in pink stilettos, doing arabesques, turns and barre work, all while talking about ballet as an art form.

Fjord Review recently caught up with Watters by phone between performances of Welch’s “Sleeping Beauty,” where the newly-promoted principal danced the roles of, among others, Lilac Fairy Cavalier and Rose Adagio Prince. The conversation ran the gamut from his advocacy and how wearing heels—size 13—can change one’s life, to what it means being Houston Ballet’s first queer Black principal dancer.

Harper Watters. Photograph by Jai Lennard

Was there dance in your family and when did you realize that you wanted to be a ballet dancer?

There was absolutely no dance in my family, but what’s funny is that I was adopted, and the importance of family has been really special to me. When I look back, I feel support from my parents, who have an understanding and importance of the art form. One of the first major gifts my dad got me was that he built me my own balance beam. I was obsessed with the Olympic gymnast Dominique Dawes, and would throw a huge tantrum if they didn’t give me a 10!

Another gift they gave me was a VHS tape of New York City Ballet’s production of “The Nutcracker,” starring Macaulay Culkin. I was seven or eight, and don’t know why they got it for me, but it introduced me to dance and the theater of it all. It inspired me to create a one-man version of “The Nutcracker” in our living room, and I used my mom’s high heels.

You joined Houston Ballet as an apprentice in 2011, and have been with the company ever since. Why Houston?

I first auditioned in 2009 with a teacher we’re celebrating this year, Claudio Muñoz. It was the only audition I’d ever taken for ballet where I laughed, and it was the only place I had the idea of ballet being more than just steps. He changed my perspective of what I thought being a dancer was, and his class was so different than any I had ever taken before.

At the time, the company was in season during the last week of summer intensive, and I could see the company through the windows. I had a foot in the door, and they offered me a contract with the second company that summer. So much is timing and being in the right place. The contract came and I thought, “This is a moment. I have to take this.”

I did two years, then was given a contract to be an apprentice. It felt so right. Every milestone has always come at a point where I ask myself: “Am I doing the right thing in my life?” Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with the amount of work I’m doing—that this is too much. Then they would recognize that work, and with each promotion, it felt natural, and I never felt the need to leave.

That speaks to the support I felt here, and the ability to be myself. I acknowledge and say how special that is—to find a place where I can do the theatrical things that I do outside of dance, and how I’m so embraced by everyone here. That, in turn, made my ballet better. Houston Ballet has never given me a reason to leave.

Harper Watters. Photograph by Jai Lennard

That’s so great, Harper. But even before your promotion to principal, you performed the Prince in “The Nutcracker.” What was that like?

For the majority of what I’ve seen, it’s a dancer’s first stab at a big leading role. We do almost 40 shows here, and [Houston Ballet] can spread the love and give opportunities. When I went up on casting, I was extremely terrified, because it’s an indication of the future. They see you can do this, now show them you can, and use it as an opportunity to open up more possibilities when it comes to roles you want to dance.

“Nutcracker” will always be difficult. I think I’ve danced the Prince six or seven years, and it’s always challenging. It’s so revealing, because it comes back every year and you check in with your technique. But every year I become more confident. The first time it was shedding the idea of what I thought I had to be, and finding what the Prince meant to me, truly.

Not long afterwards came your promotion.

I was caught off guard by it. Principal promotions are really special, and they do them onstage. You could be doing the most comfortable role, but it’s still a performance. It was a mixed repertory, “In the Night,” that were three one-act ballets. I danced Welch’s “Maninyas” that weekend, and at the end of the ballet, we bow, and I was responsible for bringing the violinist [Denise Tarrant] on stage. Then I see my two bosses [Welch and Kent] and thought, “That’s funny, they’re normally not there.”

When we took our final bow, they walked out, and Julie said, “We’re so pleased to have you all here. It’s a very special night, because something like this doesn’t happen very often.” That stuck with me. It’s such a rare thing and special to call yourself a ballet dancer, but to step into the legacy of being a principal is even more special and rare to me.

I’m so pleased that my directors saw my work ethic and have acknowledged my work—14 seasons of dedicating myself to this. Being ready, knowing the material, showing up for class. I had ankle surgery a year ago, and felt very honored to step into this role and join the ranks of dancers I’ve idolized for a long time. Calvin Royal, James Whiteside, Royal Ballet principals reached out to me, and it put into perspective what this elite level means.

To that end, what does it mean to be the first queer Black principal at Houston?

The career of [the late New York City Ballet dancer] Albert Evans will always mean a lot to me. Seeing him dance “Red Angels” was somewhat life changing in that it was the first time I connected with someone beyond just the dance.

Who he was as a queer person resonated immensely with me, now being the first queer Black principal at Houston Ballet. I just hope to perform to the same level of confidence and authenticity that Albert did. If I can do that, that would mean everything to me.

Harper Watters. Photograph by Roman Varlamov

What’s also resonating to the ballet world and beyond, are your social media posts. When did you first begin wearing heels and why?

It started because a dancer in the company at the time was one of my closest friends, Joel Woellner. It was also season four or five of “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” and Joel was leaving—he’s now a principal at Queensland Ballet. But before he left, he said we needed to do a drag night.

I said, “I don’t know about that.” But it’s very like Joel to be persistent and push, so after work one day, we were in the gym, and he walked in with three boxes of pink heels and said, “We’re doing this, and how funny it would be if we threw this on Instagram,” which was more a place for posting your food.

But to post a video of dancing in heels on a treadmill? Of course, I had this mentality that I need to do this again. I have to give people what they want, so we would find different ways to incorporate wearing heels. We were just young dancers who loved pop culture. We loved fashion and we loved media. When we started getting all these views of us on the treadmill, we increased the visibility of people who were seeing us.

We were connecting with photographers, with fashion. We were two ballet dancers in heels [and] wanted to maintain this momentum. It was like a natural progression of rising through the ranks here—we were taking opportunities that came from these videos; capturing people’s attention and using it to our advantage.

You once said, “Put on a pair of heels and it will change your life.” How so?

To a certain degree it changed my life in the way that it increased exposure, visibility and traffic on my channel. There’s a certain way you have to hold yourself, the way you walk. It’s similar to how you walk on stage, you’re upright, and on your toes, and the balls of your feet. There’s a way you have to carry yourself. You can’t walk in this barbaric way; you have to be more regal.

RuPaul said, “We’re all born naked and the rest is drag.” Anything you put on is a form of drag, a costume, to make yourself more comfortable. A pair of heels is like that. When you put on a nice fitting tunic, you have to hold yourself a certain way. It’s all the same.

Donning stilettos aside, what advice do you have for aspiring ballet dancers?

I have words of wisdom that have been given to me. One is, “Vision strengthens work and work strengthens vision.” That has been a big mindset for me and is an important piece of advice for young dancers. Whatever you want for yourself and see for yourself, requires a lot of work, but the more you do, the closer to your vision you’ll become.

Debbie Allen said, “When you do the work, that’s when you get to be beautiful.” That’s resonated with me, as well. Focus on yourself until the focus is on you. It’s very, very easy in this discipline to be so aware of how other dancers are performing, their trajectory—comparing yourself to others—but the more you can focus on yourself and your own work, you’ll be surprised how that turns the focus on you.

And drink a lot of water, and show up for class!

Where do you see yourself in the next five to ten years?

In five years, I better still be dancing; I want to still be a principal here. It’s funny how when I joined the company, I was 18, and all I wanted to do was make all older dancers my best friends. Then I blinked and here I am.

I want to turn what I have created as far as a platform and the work I’ve created as a dancer offstage, turn those opportunities to bigger opportunities—whether it’s a book, speaking engagements. I also don’t mind doing guest teaching.

Your father is a politician. Any thoughts on getting politics and ballet to merge in some way?

I am the politics. I am advocacy. Just by simply existing, that’s political in itself, especially nowadays. Who I am as a person, to say that I’m a principal, is quite the merge already. If I advocate for myself, to be the best dancer I can—especially for the next generation who are motivated and outspoken—is political in itself.

Victoria Looseleaf

Victoria Looseleaf is an award-winning, Los Angeles-based international arts journalist who covers music and dance festivals around the world. Among the many publications she has contributed to are the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, Dance Magazine and KCET’s Artbound. In addition, she taught dance history at USC and Santa Monica College. Looseleaf’s novella-in-verse, Isn't It Rich? is available from Amazon, and and her latest book, Russ & Iggy’s Art Alphabet with illustrations by JT Steiny, was recently published by Red Sky Presents. Looseleaf can be reached through X, Facebook, Instagram and Linked In, as well as at her online arts magazine ArtNowLA.

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