‘When you try to cultivate the arts, you have to welcome people in’: Courtney Lucius on dance, VMS and media literacy (Part 1)

You’re reading The Alcove, an interview series with artists and scholars affiliated with Duke University, including students, faculty and alumni in the arts and humanities. Inspired by the style and format of The Paris Review. 

Courtney Lucius knows how to dance like nobody’s watching. A Trinity junior, she is majoring in Visual and Media Studies and minoring in Journalism and Media. With an extensive background in ballet, contemporary and hip-hop, she is an active member of Street Medicine and Defining Movement. In our conversation, we discussed the Visual and Media Studies major, the various wonders and complications of dance, and the increasingly pressing need for media literacy. 

The Chronicle (TC): You’re majoring in Visual and Media Studies (VMS). What went into that decision? 

Courtney Lucius (CL): It’s really interesting, because that’s not where I started out or expected to be when I first got to Duke. I thought I was going to be a Public Policy major because I was super into debate in high school, and that was the natural next step for me. I didn’t enjoy the Pub Pol classes much, and I took Child Policy classes and really liked them, but I realized, major-wise, my interests weren’t really aligning with what I thought they would. So then I did Duke in New York Program the summer going into sophomore year. And I was like, okay, this is kind of cool. Fall of sophomore year, I took an individual VMS class as an elective. I still thought I was going to be Pub Pol, to be honest, because I was in Stat 199L. And I really liked how VMS was applicable to multiple things, like marketing, especially as a creative. From there, it was pretty easy to figure out just how I wanted to supplement the VMS major, because I didn’t want to abandon those initial interests either. 

TC: So, if you could give someone an elevator pitch in favor of majoring in VMS, what would that pitch sound like?

CL: You get the opportunity to be creative in this space while learning what goes into the way we view our entire world. We study what encodes our advertisements and how we are being targeted on a daily basis, especially in the age of surveillance and media and a rising crisis in media literacy. This helps you understand your world in a way that I don’t think many people realize, and gives you the freedom to branch out and apply it to your interests as well. I’m really interested in journalism, but I also love the theory of VMS, and now there’s an overlap in some of my coursework, like in DOCST 288S, Editing for Film and Video. We’re learning about characters and how to make them compelling, which is coinciding with my long-form coursework right now. VMS applies in a lot more ways than people realize. 

TC: Was there a specific course or professor from the Duke in New York Program that led you to major in VMS? 

CL: There was definitely a specific experience. We had a mentor and we got to curate our own ad campaign inspired by this 90s throwback of hip hop being in New York. Being from New Jersey, having that connection and combining my interests, I was like, whoa. This is really cool. I thought that when I got to college, I would suffer creatively, because I didn’t really know what that next iteration [of my artistic journey] was gonna look like. Like, I didn’t know if I was gonna continue dancing, which I’m happy that I did. For our final project for the class, I did mine on Black hair and I went out in New York and talked to and photographed a bunch of people. And I was like, if this is what the coursework is like, then I really enjoy it. 

TC: She was the one in [the documentary] First Position, right? 

CL: Yes, she just passed away. She was phenomenal. And I think, also, it was that lack of representation. My mom always supported me. She was a ballerina, but even then you only have two people, which just makes it hard. You have to really want it to continue when the circumstances are like that. I think I just got to a point where it’s like, I want to try something else now. 

TC: When I was in ballet, I had a similar experience. My teacher kept remarking on how dark my skin was, and said things like “if your skin was darker, you would be Black.” Which is really fucked up. And if she was saying it to me, [an East Asian], what was she saying to all the other girls? Body shaming is such a huge part of the culture, and you have all these intersectional issues of race and gender come together, which is all so much more apparent within the environment of ballet. 

CL: I think it’s so sad because so many people love ballet. The fact that our stories are so common, especially when you speak to former dancers who started out doing ballet, is really sad. Because there’s a lot of beauty in ballet. When you try to cultivate the arts, you have to welcome people in, not push them away. 

TC: What does dance mean to you? 

CL: Good question. All my life, I’ve been a dancer. It’s something that’s core to my identity. I’ve matured with my dancing. My mom was a dancer, and there’s a video of her dancing on-stage, eight months pregnant with me. So before I even came into this world, that’s something that was part of my life. My mom was my first dance teacher, and having that growing up was a point of confidence for me. And then came the ballet struggles. I went to a competition dance studio, and started doing contemporary. I did this tuition-free company called Flight Path dance Repertory Company in New York, and that was phenomenal. 

Dance has been complicated at points, because I’ve really had to fight to find my confidence in it. I took a break from dancing one year, sophomore year of high school, and I was like, “Yeah, I can’t do this. I want to go back.” That was when I got into the repertory company. I was really auditioning on a whim: I saw an ad on Instagram and asked my mom to tape a video for me. I didn’t tell my parents I had auditioned at all. 

In terms of figuring out who I want to be creatively, in that sense, I don’t think I would want to be a journalist if I wasn’t a dancer first. I think dance gave me that ability to put myself out there in that way and recognize, okay, I really like connecting with people. Dance really is a form of connection with your other dancers, and with the audience, you are bringing people stories and joy and all all ranges of emotions. Dance has been really integral in helping me find my creative confidence, but just also confidence as a person. It keeps me grounded. If I didn’t dance at Duke, I’d probably go crazy at this point in time. It reminds me, like, you’re still Courtney. You’re still you in all the craziness of day-to-day life. This is who you are. 

TC: And to the end of connecting with other dancers and the audience, maybe dance also connects you with yourself. I wanted to ask: do you view dance, then, as more of an art, a sport, or a combination of the two? 

CL: That’s a really interesting question, because I’m a dancer, but I’m also an athlete. Growing up, I played basketball from fifth grade to sophomore year, then coached it the rest of high school. Same thing with track. There was an amazing piece that we did with this choreographer, Jacqueline Walsh, and she talked about how she wanted to be super athletic, and it was really hard. And we were in corsets, the outfits were made of silk, and we were doing barrel rolls, lifts, everything. And I love that, because it felt like the perfect combination of athletics and dance and all of that. Which is to say I think it’s really a mixture of both, because you don’t want to lose the fact that it’s an art form to tell these stories. But it is also a sport, because it’s physically grueling. All jokes aside, it is not easy to dance. And I think it’s hilarious because people always find that out. You see athletes realize, “Oh no, it’s important to dance,” because you need the core strength, you need the balance, you need all of those things that we fundamentally as dancers started out doing when we were young, which is why we’re not thinking about them. Even as a young adult, still dancing, it really does keep me in shape. So I think it’s a mixture of both an art and a sport. And I think, it’s a disservice to say it’s not either one or to let dance box itself in. 

TC: I think people also underestimate how much discipline it takes to be a dancer. 

CL: Yes, an insane amount of discipline. Starting out with ballet, appearance, first off, the tights, the leotards, the hair in a bun, you have to look a certain way. Even posture-wise, you can always tell which people are dancing simply based on their posture, with the back straight and the neck always up. 

TC: Yeah. What goes through your head when you’re in the moment, dancing?

CL: Right before I step on stage, that’s the most anxious I’ll ever be. I’m normally not nervous about a performance until right before the moment they’re reading your name, and then I’m like, okay, oh shit. What’s the first move? 

On stage, it’s just fun. I’m trying to think back to the last performance, which was family weekend. If I know my family’s there, I’m always looking for them in the crowd. But normally it feels like a blur, and I really can’t recall what goes through my head onstage, unless something goes wrong. It’s almost like an out of body experience. 

Courtney Lucius is a member of the Chronicle's 120th Volume.

This story has been updated to record that Courtney Lucius is a Trinity junior, not a Trinity senior. The Chronicle regrets this error.

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