He's Just Not That Into You

Last week there was an audition for High School Musical running at a prestigious regional theater not far from New York. This should be a perfect show for me, as I have a young and perky look (though I had been typed out for the tour before).

Auditions are infrequent this time of summer, and as I walked into a studio I hadn't been in a while, I got so depressed. I had been talking to a friend who was debating leaving an unhappy relationship - she was trying much harder than him to make it work. As I took the slow elevator up to the audition, I felt the same way.

The phrase 'he's just not that into you' flashed into my mind. I've never read that book, as I haven't been single and in need of dating advice for a while, but it seemed a perfect analogy for my relationship with dance. I have been trying so hard. I have been giving so much love. And it just doesn't want me.

I keep thinking maybe if I change, take more voice lessons, cut my hair, get a boob job, something, it will want me. What am I doing wrong, I keep asking myself. But maybe it's not me, it's them, this irrational, nonsensical industry.

I remember the good times, the ecstasy of performing like the addictive sex of a abusive relationship. The audition combo was bouncy cheer hop, like I used to do in high school, driving the point home. I used to love it so much. And it loved me back. I always had opportunities to perform, and I thrived.

But even then, as a glimpse at my despairing teenage journals will attest, it was fraught. I never felt good enough, skinny enough. It was never easy.

So why don't I do what I advised my friend, and walk away? There's got to be something else out there for me. A career that appreciates all I have to give and lets me work.

Of course the analogy isn't precise. Perhaps I am being overdramatic. But, as I rack up another rejection without understanding why, something to ponder.

Broadway Credits Please

Today was the first time I auditioned for Little Mermaid. The combo was confusing and seem disjointed at first, but all the moves were easy, sort of congo line-ish to Under the Sea, with a double stag jump and two single turns requiring basic technique.

There were a few disasters (probably singers crashing a dancer call), and a few dancers with no personality (come on, this is Disney). But in general everyone looked fine, like many audition combos there was no challenge to overcome, no chance to stand out. So why did they pick who they did to stay? A friend and I (both rejected) went out to eat and break it down afterward.

We realized the casting people had made a comment to everyone they ended up keeping about a credit on their resume - 'oh, you did Cirque' or 'I see 42nd Street on Broadway.' So they seemed to keep dancers with Broadway, National Tour or other impressive credits. Which is fine, except those girls weren't necessarily the best dancers in the audition. Some of them looked great, others weren't even smiling.

Getting a Broadway credit is often a matter of being in the right place (with the right look) at the right time. There are people on Broadway way more talented than me, but plenty that aren't. Still, once you're in, it's easier to get other shows. At least the casters know you're capable of showing up for eight shows a week, whatever the quality of those performances may be (though I've heard plenty of stories of Broadway performers with questionable attitude and work ethics - that doesn't show up on the resume though).