‘He’s the reason why I dance’: Beloved Miami dance instructor Chris McKennon dies at 66
Chris McKennon’s dance students are all grown now, but they still call him Mr. Chris.
McKennon, an accomplished dancer, dance company owner, choreographer and teacher, was a fixture in the local performing arts community. He was known for his largerthan-life personality — from changing outfits midrehearsal to demanding perfectly pointed toes from students. He died July 4 from cancer, friends told the Herald. He was 66.
Though he had no living immediate family members, his friends and former students said that he is survived by his legacy as a brilliant artist and as a teacher who drew out greatness in students no matter their skill level or background.
“This is a huge loss for our community,” said Michelle Grant-Murray, a friend and fellow dancer. “He had an ability to make everyone in the room feel welcome. Everyone knew that they were doing their best. He could pull the best of the best of the best out of anybody in the room.”
Traci Young-Byron, a friend, director of PAVAC Dance at Miami Northwestern Senior High School and owner of
Young Contemporary Dance Theatre, said McKennon was “one of the greatest ballet teachers in Miami-Dade County.”
McKennon was born and raised in Miami and started dancing at age 6, according to Black
Miami-Dade, a multimedia storytelling platform and archive. He attended Florida A&M University, where he was briefly a cheerleader, and Florida State University. He moved to New York City, where he danced with prestigious dance companies, including the Dance Theatre of Harlem, the American Ballet Theatre, the New York City Ballet and the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. In the ‘80s, McKennon returned to Miami and established his own dance company, the Liberty City Dance Theater, and taught at the African Heritage Cultural Arts Center.
At one point, as YoungByron put it, McKennon went through “a rough patch.” After the deaths of his father and grandmother, he struggled and was homeless for a few years, Young-Byron said. But that’s not where his story ends.
A FIRECRACKER
Young-Byron, who organized McKennon’s funeral services, remembers her friend fondly. She first met him in 1996 when she worked at the Cultural
Arts Center teaching Lindy Hop and jazz. She always saw a guy wearing blue contacts and blonde hair. She figured he must’ve been an artist, but she wasn’t yet familiar with Chris McKennon, the professional dancer.
Years passed, and Young-Byron returned to Miami after college. She became a Miami Heat dancer and was going to rehearsals when she saw a familiar face on the side of the road. She reconnected with him, offering meals and some company.
“I just never made him feel like he was not human,” Young-Byron said. “He had so much and then he kind of lost it all. He built it back up. Before he left this earth, he was definitely back on the right track.”
McKennon volunteered at homeless shelters and went on to choreograph and teach dance at local schools, Miami-Dade College Kendall, Diva Arts Dance Studio and more.
When he wasn’t dancing and volunteering, McKennon and Young-Byron would go on “shopping extravaganzas” together and plan fabulous outfits to wear to events. One time, Young-Byron was invited to a private party for Christian Louboutin and brought McKennon with her.
“We’re gonna be in front of this millionaire. We got to look good,” McKennon told YoungByron. “He might want to hire me to be a model.”
At the event, McKennon was sitting with his wine glass “looking so bougie,” Young-Byron recalled. That’s when Louboutin himself walked up to McKennon to say hello. McKennon played it cool.
“Hi, I’m Chris,” McKennon said to the famous French designer. “And you are?” (He knew exactly who he was.)
Young-Byron said it was fitting for McKennon to have passed away on Independence Day. He was an independent spirit and a “firecracker,” she said.
‘POINT YOUR BISCUITS!’
Catalina Vanegas remembers McKennon’s fiery and funny personality well. Vanegas was a freshman at Miami Northwestern in 2007 when she joined the school’s drama class. The drama teacher told the students to take dance lessons for musical theater. [Mr. Chris enters stage left.]
McKennon would pop up (sometimes at random) and charged the students $5 for weekly dance lessons, though he could’ve been charging much more for his expertise, Vanegas said.
“He needed help, and we needed him,” she said.
Vanegas, originally from Carol City, never had any technical training before meeting McKennon. Immediately, she said, she understood his passion for dance and his artistic prowess. He was stern but also hilarious. Instead of telling students to point their toes, he yelled, “Point your biscuits!”
“Because our feet were crusty,” Vanegas said, laughing.
McKennon supported the high schoolers, even after they graduated. He kept in touch with Vanegas and told her he was proud of her. Today, Vanegas is an accountant in Houston who also teaches dance to young children.
“Dance was still his passion and his number one priority, and he channeled that through us, through inner city kids. It just shows how great of a person he was,” Vanegas said. “His legacy will definitely live on forever because the way he would teach me is the way I teach the kids that I have. He’s the reason why I dance.”
INTO THE WOODSHED
Grant-Murray was fresh out of high school and attending Miami Dade College when she first met McKennon. He was an FSU student back in town for break. Many years passed before they crossed paths again.
It was December 1998. Grant-Murray was driving downtown when she saw him outside. During their conversation, he told her he was planning a holiday dance performance for a local homeless shelter and asked if she would like to dance with him. The folks at the shelter liked to do something special for the holidays, he told her. They later met at Bayside for dinner and rehearsed for the first and only time that same night.
She arrived bright and early at 6 a.m. on Christmas Eve. People were exchanging clothes, washing their faces and brushing their teeth. McKennon prepared the music, a song by Donny Hathaway. And they danced together. It was beautiful, she said.
McKennon walked her to her car and thanked her. She cried all the way back home.
“I was like, ‘He’s so talented and so brilliant,’” Grant-Murray said.
“’What is this about? How did he get to this place in life?’”
Grant-Murray — the artistic director of Olujimi Dance Theatre, the cofounder of Florida Black Dance Artist Organization and the dance program director at Miami Dade College’s Kendall campus — believed in McKennon. She invited him to MDC Kendall as a guest choreographer.
McKennon was “a real Renaissance creative artist” who took his craft seriously, Grant-Murray said. For him, the creative process was like “going into the woodshed.”
“We have to chop it up and carve it up and make it a beautiful sculpture, make it a beautiful work of art,” Grant-Murray said. “And you continue to work at that until you get to that moment of the performance. That was the most brilliant part of it. He taught me how to always look for new ways of doing things and to not be afraid of the newness.”
Last week, McKennon’s former students and friends gathered to celebrate his life. Grant-Murray had never been to a funeral quite like this one, she said. Everyone showed out in their best attire wearing McKennon’s favorite color, blue.
There were tears, but also plenty of laughter, Grant-Murray said.
“We know that he likes to laugh,” she said. “When you talk about him, you can’t help but laugh and smile.”
This story was produced with financial support from The Pérez Family Foundation, in partnership with Journalism Funding Partners, as part of an independent journalism fellowship program. The Miami Herald maintains full editorial control of this work.