One at a Time

On average, we dance in groups of 4 as the auditors judge us. Sometimes 5 or 6, sometimes 3. Twice I've had to dance in groups of ten. At an audition for the Metropolitan Opera ballet corp the auditors picked dancers out individually from about seventy dancers learning the combination (those selected were asked to leave). But usually the groups are small enough that the auditor could watch you, but you've never sure if they actually do.

At the West Side Story audition this week (it’s coming back to Broadway), we danced one at a time. A very short, two eight-count combination across the floor, one dancer right after another. Professional dancers like to be looked at. Some deep psychological need for attention draws us to the stage. So why did girls exit the room stunned, many shaking their head and muttering "that was brutal?"

I attended the call for Jet girls, as opposed to the Shark girls, who get more stage time and the chance to shake their skirts in 'America,' one of the most vibrant, danceable numbers in Broadway history. Alas, to be a Shark girl you must pass for Puerto Rican, in line with the ethnic gang warfare plot. The Jets combination consisted of some simple snaps, jumps, a clap, sashe, single turn, ending in a kick followed by a sustained arabesque.

The choreographer seemed to be watching the dancers without really seeing them. We followed the progression of the cards from his hand either to the bottom of the pile, or, on occasion, to his assistant. The decision seemed to be made before the actually challenging part of the combination, and the relation between quality of dancing and promotion to the kept pile was murky. In my group, he kept the two dancers he made a big demonstration of already knowing, and about five girls that sort of looked alike, though it was hard to explain exactly in what way.

So what was so brutal? Being individually acknowledged then pointedly rejected? Or did we still not feel really acknowledged? Was our arabesque lacking, or were we instantly sorted by type, by hair color, skin tone, and other uncontrollable aspects of our face and body? We hadn't the time to really dance, to create a performance. But within ten minutes of entering the room we were told no thank you. The quickness was a blessing for our busy schedules, but it left us in a bit of shock and sort of sad.

Through a volunteer organization, I teach dance workshops to underserved kids. As part of our teaching philosophy, we try to notice each child in our forty-five minutes together and give specific positive feedback -- Natalie, that was a very creative jump you did across the floor, or Luis, I saw how focused and attentive you were throughout the entire class. I am so proud of you. We assume these kids, from homeless shelters and poverty stricken neighborhoods, don't get enough positive attention elsewhere.

I was in a crowded ballet class one day and started craving this feedback about my dancing. I rarely get comments from teachers in class, and even during a brief solo at an audition, I still don't feel noticed. I am not living in transitional housing with stressed out parents and teachers, so I shouldn't need this affirmation. But sometimes I do.