Heels on the Main Stage: Inside the World of Ultra’s Angels

They stood tall on one side of the room, dressed in all-black and high-heeled boots. One, two, three, they slipped into formation like quicksilver, cutting the air in sharp movements. Hands by their hips, legs straight, eyes piercing. On the other end, their feet bounced between the floor and the air as if trying to spark a fire. Each leg moved in a mesmerizing one/two — everyone locked in step with one another. 

The Ultra Angels — the Downtown electronic music festival’s designated dancing ensemble since 2013 — held a practice for New Times in a Riverside studio on a chilly February evening. They trickled in, giving each other hugs. They wore their Ultra/Resistance (Ultra’s techno brand) shirts, leggings, and embroidered socks, and soon took position. The 90-minute practice was light, with techno and EDM playing from a speaker. 

Ultra’s Angels, an Origin Story 

The twenty or so dancers at the studio were Miami natives and daughters of immigrants. Some come from as far as Belgium. Some have been dancing ballet, tap, salsa, or jazz since they were three years old; others got into dancing in college. Some have worked in the circus; others in clubs. Some dance with fire; others ascend curtains and contort in the air.

The Angels likely wouldn’t be here without their Director of Entertainment, Katie Kansas. A native of the Midwest state, and a dancer since she was three. She discovered electronic music in the late ‘90s through friends holding makeshift basement raves in the halcyon days when electronic music was trickling into the middle of America. 

She moved to Denver to study at Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design. While in Denver, she immersed herself in rave culture and began dancing at clubs and designing costumes. Later, she found her way to New York City to continue working in the dance industry. In 2011, she received a call from Ultra’s co-founder Russell Faibisch. “He said, ‘We were looking for something new, and you are somebody we should talk to.’” 

Ultra had dancers since its 1999 inception on Miami Beach, but it was a grassroots, disjointed effort. Faibisch wanted an organized team with choreography that could keep pace with the festival’s growing seismic production. “I did a trial in 2011, and Russell reached back out in 2012 to give it another try,” recounts Kansas. “Angels came about, I think, when we were in Buenos Aires, and Russell said, ‘This is it. You’re doing the right work, but you have to figure it out for all the worldwide partners.’” Faibisch was referring to Ultra’s global brand, which hosts over two dozen festivals and shows in Argentina, Japan, Spain, and Australia. 

“I knew from branding and marketing that we needed a name and fans to be relevant, like any DJ. The name and brand were what was needed for the worldwide partners.” Kansas developed the proof of concept, dedicated an Instagram to the Angels, and started touring in 2013. While artists performing at other big festivals develop their own spectacular choreography, Ultra is one of the few that has a designated team of dancers traveling the world for the brand.

More Than Dancing 

Now, DJs on the Main Stage, the Resistance Cove and MegaStructure, and the Ultra Worldwide stage share the limelight with the all-women 40-dancer team. The Angels’ duties also expanded to Resistance’s brick-and-mortar residency, M2 on Miami Beach, during its season. 

It’s hard to miss the Angels on game day. They arrive at the festival around 10 a.m. for warm-ups and various makeup and costume designs for each of the three days. “We have helmets and armor and very high heels, and we walk the entire festival in heels,” says Eli over the calls of five, six, seven, eight. She is an aerialist for Resistance and a native of Belgium who trained in Paris. “I’m in the air — we are professional circus artists. We can adapt easily. Back when Ultra started, it was just a stage, and the dancer made it bigger. Some people now come just to see the Ultra dancers.”

The Angels are split between those who dance for Resistance at the outdoor stage by the water, the Cove, or inside the roofed MegaStructure with its tunnel-like architecture and LED lights that lower and raise from the roof. Within the MegaStructure, Angels dance fluidly to techno’s repetitive, darker sounds. Sharing the space are aerialists like Eli, who wrap themselves in twenty-foot lengths of white curtain, hooking their feet in the crooks of their elbows and knotting their bodies midair as lasers and lights go berserk.

The other Angel division is the “Hype Squad.” These are shufflers who are on the festival grounds with attendees, whose purpose is to excite the crowd and allow them to dance and enjoy the show. “The running man and the T-steps are the two most important moves,” explains local Angel Gabby Valdez on the signature Melbourne shuffle, a dance style where dancers twist and pump their legs in a blur, like sprinting in place but with sharper pivots and turns. “If you just have those two down, you can become a whole shuffler.” 

Think You Have What It Takes? 

The Angels hold auditions in Miami virtually every year. Applicants are given a choreography a couple of weeks before, then perform it for Kansas and other judges. Many can match the tempo, but Kansas follows an experiential approach. It’s, in part, an I ’ll-know-it-when-I-see-it method. “I look for stars. It’s hard to explain. Do I need auditions every year? Not necessarily. Am I always looking for the next star? Of course.” Indeed, her Instagram handle reads, “My Real Talent is Finding Gems.” The other element is gauging whether an applicant will be compatible with the team. It’s entirely team-driven, and what is good for the team is good for the individual. 

“You have to have a lot of stamina. It’s a lot of work,” explains Kansas, “And we’re not just performing at the festival; we also have family dinners, go support artists at after-parties, and explore each city. We hit the ground running with rehearsals. But if you don’t get along, you’re not on the team. I don’t deal with drama — there’s no need. The brand is built on a community of dancers. And I want people to feel proud of the team. If you take it for granted, there is someone else who really wants the job.”

Not making the auditions brings obvious melancholy. But every Angel that did not make the audition the first time never took it as a sign of defeat. One veteran Angel of eight years, Kim Kong, part of Resistance and an aerialist, auditioned three times. “I wasn’t brought up to dance. I call myself the ‘non-dancing dancer,’” she says with a warm smile. “I started at Ultra in 2018. I auditioned three times until I got it — I will never forget that. I just knew in my bones that I was meant for it and that ‘no’ didn’t mean never. It just means there is something I need to brush up on, whether it’s a skillset or professionalism.”

Nayara Marinucci, a local on the Vibe Squad and former Miami Dolphins cheerleader, started going to Ultra as a teenager. “I saw the girls, and thought, ‘What is this?’ I didn’t even think this was a real job. My first year, I didn’t make it. I wasn’t discouraged. I knew it was really competitive, and I really believed that Katie knows when you’re ready. But when I came back, I was so much more confident, and I had the most fun auditions. The first year was 2024. It’s funny because once they said, ‘You’re on the team,’ all the nerves went away.” I get to travel the world for the festival. I never thought that would happen.”

Dancing With Fire

Rehearsals can only go so far. During the festival, the Angels have spent roughly 3 hours getting on stage. There are external factors, such as the weather. Of course, there is fire and water that shoot out of the Main Stage feet away from the Angels. Then there are the minor errors that the layperson doesn’t realize, like the mark on the stage’s floor is missing, and the Angel doesn’t know where to take position. 

“Doing it for so long, you still don’t get over the nerves, but you get more confident,” Ashley Gonzalez, a Miami native and dancer since age three, says. “Truly, you have to prepare physically, mentally, and eat healthier. Especially with the heat, be careful and stay hydrated. If you’re not taking care of yourself, you won’t perform the best. But there is nothing like seeing the crowd — just the wave of energy. It’s a natural high.” 

We Become One

The chief misconception the Angels expressed is that they are not considered “dancers” by whatever defines the word — that somehow dancing on a stage to thousands is lesser than pirouetting in a concert hall. 

“One of the main misconceptions is that people don’t know the professionalism that it involves. You’re presenting a global brand, and people think you’re just up there. We have to look good, intact, and exactly like our partner — we’re a representation of them,” says Gonzalez. “We’re just doing rounds all day,” mentions Valdez. “We all felt so good. People think shuffling and dancing is easy, but what they don’t see is that it requires so much cardio. I just keep being proactive over and over. I barely run because shuffling is enough cardio.”

Marinucci states that there is a “misconception that people don’t know if we’re in sync or not.” She clarifies that, for example, when there are more than two Angels on stage, the choreography will likely be synchronized, with their bodies moving in unison. When it’s reduced to two, it’s likely a freestyle between them. “But I swear, it’s through osmosis, and we become one,” she says. 

Another misunderstanding is that every Angel was dancing before they could walk. Kong, however, learned to dance at Florida International University, where she joined a hip-hop group in college and took dance electives. “After that, I went to studios and paid for drop-in classes. If it were fun, I would continue.” 

A Touch of Humanity

If Ultra can spend on an otherworldly production quality, then why are dancers necessary to an attendee’s experience? Each Angel tracks it down to the unimpeachable human spirit. To see real feet pound the pavement or twirling overhead to the masses is something not even hundreds of LEDs can match. 

“It’s a very intimate setting during the day, because you can actually see people’s faces, and people are blown away when I look at them and smile or blow them a kiss. They’re, like, ‘Oh my God, she sees me!’ It’s a point of connection in a very big space that feels so powerful,” says Malia Faith. Valdez notes that “lights and lasers are important, but it’s an actual human element.” Marinucci adds that the “people can feed off your energy, I feed off their energy.”

Practice ended, and the mood was as high as when it began. The Angels take selfies, smile, laugh, and go out for tacos afterwards. Even if it’s only for a couple of days during a chaotic week, it’s a family taking care of each other year-round. “The dancer adds a bit of femininity to a stage that is very masculine with the DJs, lights, and lasers,” posits Kansas. “It’s all very tough, very strong. And we’re real. It’s not produced.”

Ultra Music Festival 2026. Friday, March 27, through Sunday, March 29, 2026, at Bayfront Park, 301 Biscayne Blvd., Miami; ultramusicfestival.com. Tickets from $539.07 via ultramusicfestival.com