I decided to audition for several choreographers in town at a big cattle call type audition in Capitol Hill on Saturday. All in all, about seventeen girls showed up and I have to say (with a smidge of pride) that I wasn’t the worst one. I will say that what started out as an OK audition during the first hour became brutal by the second hour. So let’s just cut to the chase: I’m a ballet trained bunhead turned modern dancer. I left ballet at seventeen because I loved theater more at the time and because I simply wasn’t flexible enough. I could handle the technique part but you just can’t fake putting your leg over your head. I was (and am) successful as a dancer because I can act…and that can make or break any dance piece. Even the skinniest, 90 pound waif can’t get the audience’s compassion if she can’t show expression in her face. I wrote this on my audition form before they had me attach the unlucky number 13 to my shirt: I can’t put my leg behind my head but I can act. If you need a dancer who can emote, express, or talk on stage I’m your girl.

Well, by now you’re realizing that they didn’t want a dancer that could act. They wanted dancers who could do stunts, flip in the air, and do tricks. It all started out fine with the first two choreographers asking for very pedestrian movement–one even asked us to rip a piece of paper and throw it into a bag, ooooo, I can do that. I felt pretty good, I new two of the girls there, and I felt okay about the stress of quickly memorizing choreography–something that always makes me choke at dance auditions. The second to the last choreographer was a short, older, white guy–the kind you see lurking around the dance scene and don’t entirely trust. He started with throwing us all over the floor, backward shoulder rolls, butt spins, and then he wanted us to slowly go into a headstand then tuck and roll into a somersault. This was entirely out of my league. I flubbed my way through it the first few times. Then he asked us to take two minutes and come up with our own little movement phrase inspired by the choreography. I hate stuff like this, but at least it meant I could flail around on my own. He then began to call two people onstage randomly and we were suppose to do our phrases together on the stage. It would have been fine had I not been paired with The Jack Hammer. This dancer had a pretty tough, hard, look about her. Like she’d been a street gang and could kick my ass if she wanted. When we both got called I tried to make eye contact with her–an acting trick I’ve learned to help stabilize and connect with your stage partner. She wouldn’t even look at me and actually turned her back. When the choreographer said, “begin’ she started spazzing all over the place, hurling her body in the air, flinging herself onto the floor, doing all sorts of crazy spastic moves with no concept of space or rhythm. I couldn’t play off her at all, so I just sort of ho-hummed my way through some random shit–a backward shoulder roll, a little back arch here, a stylish leap there. She jack-hammered FOREVER leaving me with very little left to do toward the end…finally she threw herself in the air and landed spread eagle on her stomach. Ow. I neatly folded my arms and torso over her as if I was some sort of crescent moon shape hoping it would be a nice finishing touch. The applause at the end was forced.

As we slunk offstage I questioned my motives for even being there. Initially I was like, well, what do I have to lose? If I don’t go then I won’t get in regardless, and if I do go then maybe I’ll get in AND meet some new people in the community. What I realized is that I had a lot to lose…my dignity, my sense of pride, and my self-esteem. Failure has never been my prized specialty and it’s one reason why I have taken a very un-traditional route in my performance career. My tactic has historically gone like this: Sick of not being cast I simply wrote my own stuff and found a way to get it on stage. This dance
audition was making me want to crawl into a hole.

The last audition of the two hour stretch was for a local dance company. They’re the cheery type that always shout at the end of my Monday night modern class, “HI! We’re such-and-such company and we’re performing TONIGHT at the space, it’s only twelve dollars, so WE’LL SEE YOU THERE.” My heart sank when they asked us to find a partner who was similar in height and build, (oh GOD, no, they’re asking us to do partnering work). Then they demonstrated the duet we would be learning and let me tell you: I almost threw up. I wanted to go home. I knew I was toeing the line but I made myself stay because if I didn’t I would be letting my partner down. Let’s call her “Eloise.” I’m sure she’s a very nice woman but the pressure of the audition was causing her poker face to wain…she was not pleased to be partnered with me. I could read it all over her face and there’s nothing worse then a duet with no trust. I wish I could accurately describe the feats they were requesting us to do. One of them involved me running and throwing myself at Eloise so that my body was horizontal to the floor and my arms were clasped firmly around her waist. Inevitably I ended up mashing my face into her ample bosom upon impact. I tried to aim lower but I was sure I was going to smash my knees into the floor so the move started looking like some sort of desperate hug that missed. I had to sort of flip Eloise over my back while on all fours and then she had to launch me in the air with her feet, sort of like an airplane, which was kinda fun and I thought for a moment that maybe we might be able to pull it off. Eloise was still stand-offish but I think she was coming around to my goofy charm.

Then came The Big Move. This involved Eloise running and jumping at me…I was suppose to catch her upside down while she hung on to my right leg. I had never seen this move and if it sounds impossible let me tell you it was. The auditioners demonstrated it flawlessly and all I could think of was dear-god-i’m-way-in-over-my-head. Before I knew it Eloise was hurling her frame at me and I was doing my best to look ready with my knees bent and my pelvis rooted. It all happened so fast, all I know was that we fell…or I fell and in a desperate attempt to save my partner I took one for the team and cushioned Eloise. We made a terrific noise as we landed on the hardwood floors and everyone in the room gasped and stared. It was terribly painful and I almost started crying. The auditioners ran over to me and I said flatly, “I’m not doing that again, I’m sorry.” We agreed to modify because there was no way I was going to get injured further much less put Eloise through that again. The worst part was losing any ounce of trust I might have had with her and now we had to perform the duet twice for the room. I was badly shaken and my right hamstring–which has a longstanding injury–was aching. If I quit I would be letting my partner down, it was an audition after all and it wasn’t her fault she got paired with a flub. So I put on the cheeriest smile I could and stumbled through the duet. It was horrible because I had no self-confidence by then and really, what was I doing putting myself at risk like that?

When the final duet finished I was out of that room so fast. Luckily The Big Move was the last part of the day and I practically ran out of the studio. I had already done a body assessment and had decided that nothing was broken, sprained, or ripped. However, I had badly strained and/or pulled my right leg somehow during the fall and I limped back to my car like a wounded bird with little pride. When I came home I lay on the floor and tried to re-align my pelvis with my limbs and yeah, I totally cried. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, it hurts to sleep on my right side. The topper is that I got a rejection email…not even a phone call. They posted the Chosen One’s on their website the next day–I only knew this because I wanted to show my sister their site. Eloise was cast, which was lucky…perhaps they empathized that she was stuck with a partner who dropped her. It kinda stung. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling last night and felt the slow seep of rejection curl inside: “Hello, old friend.”

Here’s the thing: the experience sucked so why would I want to be part of it? Partnering work is something I have always had to work into with dancers I trust and know well. I found it unbelievable that they would request dancers off the street to throw themselves into advanced partnering right off the bat. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Perhaps I should have left when I had the chance, when I knew I was in over my head. Now is my cue to huff off and start something BIG, like back in the old days…but I’m totally deflated. I told myself I had nothing to lose, so why do I feel like such a loser?