Some artists are shaped by a certain kind of restlessness that doesn’t wait for a diploma or a permission slip. That trait is evident in Margaret Qualley, and it can be traced almost directly to her educational background. Not in the conventional, linear sense of the word, but rather in the haphazard, instinct-driven, somewhat chaotic manner that usually results in interesting individuals.
At fourteen, she moved out of the house. That in and of itself says something. Qualley left his home of Biltmore Forest, a peaceful suburb of Asheville, North Carolina, to attend the University of North Carolina School of the Arts as a boarder. She was running toward dance, not away from anything. In particular, classical ballet, which requires a significant amount of your personality, your body, and your schedule. The majority of teenagers are choosing what to eat for lunch. Qualley was getting up early to train in a dorm.
At the time, the results of the dedication must have been exciting. The American Ballet Theatre in New York, one of those establishments where the corridors seem to bear the weight of every dancer who has ever passed through, awarded her a spot training there. She also enrolled in the Professional Children’s School, a Manhattan institution that serves young performers attempting to strike a balance between demanding artistic training and something akin to academics. Qualley seemed focused as she navigated this strange, hothouse world of gifted children in a city that never slows down for anyone.
However, at sixteen, something changed. She received an apprenticeship offer from the North Carolina Dance Theater. That was, by all accounts, the door she had spent years pursuing. She didn’t go through it either. Qualley has discussed realizing the psychological and physical toll that professional ballet takes, a realization that some dancers never give themselves until it’s too late. Stepping back required a different kind of bravery than moving forward.
She began modeling in order to find a different way to live in New York. In keeping with her mother Andie MacDowell’s own professional rebranding years prior, Sarah Margaret’s name was shortened by the agency she signed with, becoming just Margaret. That parallel has a subtle poetic quality. After that, she traveled to London and enrolled in a summer program at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, where she studied Shakespeare and seemed to discover that acting fulfilled a desire she had always had for dance. People are affected in that way by RADA. There is a certain gravity to the building on Gower Street.
After returning from London, she enrolled at New York University. She left for acting roles after just one semester. That could be interpreted as impulsivity, but it seems more accurate to interpret it as pattern recognition. Qualley had already shown that she understood when to switch from one activity to another. NYU was helpful until it wasn’t, and she seemed unconcerned as she moved on.
Looking back, it’s interesting to see how every aspect of her schooling directly influenced the work. Her years at the barre are the source of her physicality on screen, which combines control and looseness at the same time. She did not pretend to comprehend that world in her role as dancer Ann Reinking in Fosse/Verdon. Additionally, she has a presence in The Substance that seems polished without being rigid. That is not something that can be produced in a drama class.
Her journey will never be regarded as a traditional model. However, there is a feeling that for some people, taking an unconventional path isn’t reckless; rather, it’s the most direct path between their starting point and their intended destination.
