The premiere of the short film Following Enchantment’s Line offered a poignant glimpse of Diné and Puerto Rican ballet dancer Jock Soto, his form fluid beneath the vast New Mexico skies, marking the sole on-screen moment of his performance. As the lights rose within Santa Fe’s historic Lensic Performing Arts Center, a dramatic summer monsoon unleashed its fury, with thunder echoing the classical music played live by his friend Laura Ortman, accompanying a spirited rehearsal led by Soto with dancers from Ballet Taos. This evening was a powerful testament to Soto’s enduring desire to share the profound rhythm and grace he cultivated over a remarkable 24-year career with the New York City Ballet.

Soto’s artistic path began not on a polished studio floor, but in the vibrant tradition of hoop dancing with his mother. "And I continued hoop dancing until I discovered ballet," Soto shared, his voice resonating with the passion of a lifelong devotion. "Ballet was just my life. That’s all I wanted to do." The pursuit of this dream necessitated significant dedication from his family. "My mother and father found the only local ballet school in Phoenix, Arizona, which was hours from my house," he recalled. "So my dad would drive there every day, and I got a full scholarship because I was the only guy in the class." This early dedication and the sacrifices made by his parents underscored the extraordinary distance he would travel, both geographically and culturally, from his Arizona roots to the demanding world of New York City ballet.

The son of Josephine Towne and José Soto, a Diné and Puerto Rican man, his journey was far from ordinary. Music played a crucial role in shaping his artistic sensibilities. "My dad loved salsa. He loved the Beach Boys, all that kind of stuff. That’s what I remember listening to," Soto said. "And I always got a warm feeling when I heard salsa or drums from the reservation. My heart jumps when I hear thump, thump, thump. And I always felt like, oh, God, I want to do this. I want to do this." This deep connection to rhythm and sound, a fusion of his diverse heritage, foreshadowed the expressive power he would later bring to ballet.

The narrative of aspiring artists leaving small towns to chase grand dreams, particularly in the highly competitive realm of classical ballet, is a familiar one. For Soto, this departure came at the tender age of 13, when he left school to embark on his New York odyssey. Now 60 and retired from the professional stage, Soto has committed himself to a new mission: sharing his unique story and artistic legacy across the nation’s tribal communities.

As the premiere concluded and the rain subsided, Soto and his husband, Luis Fuentes, prepared to return to their home in the northern New Mexico mountains. Before departing, they posed with friends beneath the illuminated marquee of the Lensic, which proudly proclaimed: INT MUSEUM OF DANCE & CD: AN EVENING WITH JOCK SOTO. "I’m liking the marquee saying my name," Soto remarked with a smile. Joel Aalberts, executive director of the Lensic, responded warmly, "We can arrange that anytime," acknowledging the profound impact of Soto’s presence.

From Stage to Digital Cloud

In the theater lobby, shortly before the screening, I had the opportunity to speak with Soto. Preparing for our conversation, I found myself reflecting on the significance of his name and identity. Soto, a figure of immense grace and strength, stood in stark contrast to any notion of being a "nerd." He was, unequivocally, the Jock, a testament to his athletic prowess and the physicality demanded by ballet.

Soto himself is clear about his identity and heritage. When his name was inadvertently misspelled in the Navajo Times art section, he took a black Sharpie and transformed the "A" into an "O," a subtle yet powerful correction that honored his Diné roots. He kept the corrected newspaper, cherishing the sense of local recognition despite the typographical error. The article highlighted the International Museum of Dance’s initiative to build a digital archive of his career, aptly titled "Jock Soto: The Dancer and His Life." This project aims to preserve and celebrate his immense contribution to the art form.

Observing Soto walk, I was reminded of the enduring physicality of legendary athletes like Bill Russell and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, whose movements carried the weight of decades of athletic achievement. This physical toll was something Soto openly acknowledged. "It’s not an easy career at all," he told the audience from a chair on stage. "You know, it’s often painful. Like, I can’t even get out of this chair if I want to right now." These words underscored the profound physical sacrifice inherent in a career dedicated to ballet and illuminated the urgency behind his partnership with the International Museum of Dance.

The museum’s efforts to create digital archives are crucial for preserving dance legacies and educational programs. A similar collaboration with the Dance Theatre of Harlem resulted in a significant history book chronicling the company’s influence on Black ballet dancers. The museum harbors an even grander vision: the establishment of a physical space, slated to open in 2026, which will serve as a hub for artist residencies, performances, and public events. While a definitive location is yet to be secured, the digital archives are currently housed in the cloud, managed by the nonprofit arts organization ChromaDiverse. This organization diligently sifts through vast online resources, unearthing forgotten photographs, videos, posters, press clippings, and other ephemeral materials that document the careers of dancers like Soto. The digital archive offers an immediate and immersive pathway into Soto’s extraordinary life as a dancer. It also hosts the Moving Memories Fund, which established the Jock Soto Scholarship, the first recipient of which is Chickasaw dancer Heloha Tate.

The Ripple Effect

Soto’s journey to international acclaim began at the age of 12 when he received a coveted full scholarship to the School of American Ballet in New York City. There, his exceptional talent quickly distinguished him within a cohort of dancers vying for the limited male roles in ballet. "I felt amazing, because (in Phoenix) I was in the class with all girls," Soto recounted. "And when I got to New York, I was in a class with all men – 40 men. That was my competition, or the way that I evolved." This shift provided him with a new level of challenge and camaraderie.

At 16, Soto received an invitation from the legendary choreographer George Balanchine to join the New York City Ballet, a pivotal moment that set him on a trajectory toward unparalleled success. Just four years later, he ascended to the rank of principal dancer, a pinnacle achievement that represents the zenith of any ballet dancer’s career worldwide. "I became an adult very quickly," Soto reflected on his early years in New York. "I became very good friends with a couple of the guys. We lived in an apartment together. We had no money, but we would go buy hot dogs on the street or eat pizza and stuff like that. We lived three blocks from the school, so we spent all day till 7 every night, dancing. That’s all we did." This intense focus and shared dedication forged deep bonds and a singular commitment to the art form.

Soto’s most celebrated performances often occurred when he partnered with ballerinas, embodying the masculine role with a powerful yet supportive presence. He was renowned for his ability to lift and guide his female partners, ensuring they remained the focal point of the performance. His innate talent earned him the reputation of a "natural partner," a quality he attributes to the foundational lessons from his mother. Dancing, for him, was a way to move with inherent beauty and grace.

As a teacher, Soto remains steadfast in upholding the traditional gender roles essential for a successful ballet performance. This commitment stems from his early experiences in Southwest powwow circles, where his mother led and he followed, learning the significance of each dancer’s role before taking the lead himself. This understanding of partnership and responsibility informs his teaching today. "I try to teach the dancers that a man is a man onstage," Soto stated. "And if I see anything other than that, I correct it right away. And I’m like, ‘No, no, you’re behind a ballerina, you’re a man. Don’t act like the ballerina.’ So that’s what I try to teach. Masculine is masculine. It’s not that hard to teach, but it can be a lot."

Soto’s Diné heritage traces back to his mother’s clan, Tłʼááʼhí (Tódích’íi’nii), meaning "water flowing together," a phrase that also lends its title to a 2007 documentary about his life. Born in Gallup, New Mexico, just 90 minutes from his home in Chinle, Arizona, he entered the world at the closest Indian Health Services Hospital. His mother, he emphasized, was a profound source of inspiration and strength. "My mother was my strength. She was my strength, and my dad was such a macho Puerto Rican, you know," Soto shared. He recalled the support he received from his parents, even as he kept his sexuality private for years. "They said it was OK to be gay. And I didn’t tell them until I was 30. My mom laughed so hard on the phone. She said, ‘We’ve known that ever since you were 18.’" This revelation brought a sense of liberation and deeper connection with his family.

More than 700 dancers have graced the stages of the New York City Ballet throughout its storied history, yet only a few dozen men have achieved the esteemed status of principal dancer, a testament to Soto’s exceptional skill and dedication. The elite training and performance mastery required for such a position are exceptionally rare. While Soto possesses deep roots in the Navajo Nation, his ascent within the rarefied world of classical ballet sometimes left him feeling culturally distanced from his Indigenous community. Today, Indigenous communities are actively engaging with Soto’s story, a development that should spur state lawmakers and education reformers to collaborate with local ballet theater groups to expand arts programming within Native communities and schools.

ChromaDiverse envisions Soto’s digital archive becoming accessible in New Mexico public schools within the next year. Since 2018, New Mexico has committed substantial resources to educational reform, driven by a state court order aimed at improving outcomes for Indigenous students, English language learners, and students with disabilities. The prospect of making Soto’s career archive available to these students has resonated deeply with lawmakers like Shannon Pinto, who attended Soto’s premiere and met him for the first time. "We need to make sure that the arts are something we bring forward with some funding, at least, because we know it’s been on the back burner," Pinto stated, underscoring the importance of arts education.

The full impact of this initiative on classrooms in New Mexico and beyond will unfold over time, but Soto’s presence has already created a palpable ripple effect. Jicarilla Apache President Adrian Notsinneh encountered Soto and his work for the first time at the Lensic. During the event, he presented Soto with a blanket, a traditional gift of honor, for his work supporting Jicarilla Apache ballet dancers. Notsinneh eloquently described how watching Soto on stage evoked memories of skipping flat stones across water as a child. "As it jumps across, it causes ripples. Each time it hits the surface, it radiates," Notsinneh explained, standing beside Soto. "So what I’m seeing from this type of person that’s standing here with me is a type of person that causes that ripple effect. Within his lifetime, he’s caused so much of this effect. And I want to thank you for being that type of person."

This ripple effect was clearly reflected in the audience’s enthusiastic response to the evening’s events. Santa Fe calligraphy artist Blythe Mariano, who is Diné, shared her profound emotional reaction: "To know that somebody from where I’m from made it all the way to New York is like, oh my God, I’m getting overwhelmed." Mariano, originally from Church Rock, New Mexico, was born in the same Gallup hospital as Soto, forging an unexpected but meaningful connection.

At the close of the night, when asked if he had noticed the significant presence of young Indigenous people in the audience, Soto’s face lit up with palpable excitement. "I loved it, I loved it. It’s inspiring!" Soto exclaimed, radiating the enthusiasm he felt. "Like I said onstage: You have to be inspired." His words, coupled with his remarkable journey, serve as a powerful beacon, illuminating the boundless possibilities that arise when passion, dedication, and cultural heritage converge.