Cool title don't you think. I do and wish I could take credit for the phrase, but I can't. It was a phrase quoted to me, by an instructor by the name of Kerry Griffin, who was one of my teachers at The Second City Training Centre. That's right, I'm an improv enthusiast and I don't care who knows it.
All of us in the entertainment business are going to experience a lull in their career at some point or another. No matter if you're the third chorus girl from the left, or the handsome leading man whom everyone falls in love with, we're all going to have down time. It's what you do with that down time that matters.
After a great run of The Sound of Music, I had another great run of teaching workshops, television commercials, and choreographing for Theatre Sheridan, among other things. I was busy and I was loving it! Now quite often, right after a really busy period, a slow period has a way of rearing it's ugly head. That's exactly what happened to me. I was still working, but not at the pace I was used to or that I liked. Recognizing this I thought, what can I do to make use of this time? Well given my experience with the Resident Director of Billy Elliot, I felt that now would be a good time to take some improv. For years I had wanted to take a course at Second City and I thought, there's no better time than the present. I had always been a big fan of many Second City Alumni such as Gilda Radner, Andrea Martin, Martin Short,(who I happened to do a commercial with), and many others. I also felt that the training I would recieve at Second City would help me a lot in commercial auditions.
Now before I go on, I am of the opinion that dancers are control freaks, and with good reason, we have to be. We need to be in control of our facility and of the movement. We must never let the movement over take us. If it does, we're not executing it from a grounded, centered place. However, having said that, it's only when we trust that the technique is there for us, can we truly be engaged in our story telling through movement. In other words, don't show me your technique, show me what makes you special and tell your story. Trust that all the work you have done up until the point of performance is there for you so you can feel free to immerse yourself in character.
When I entered The Second City, I had the option of taking Improv For Actors or a Level A beginner class. I decided to start right at the bottom level and had made a conscious decision to not let anyone know that I was in theatre. For me this was a no brainer, I wanted the luxury of being a beginner again and I didn't want to feel the pressure of people thinking I should be better than what I was. On the other side of the coin, I didn't want my classmates to feel intimidated by having a professional actor in the room. Although I have been in the business for years, I hadn't done any improv since my grade eight drama class. I was a novice, and wore that label with pride. I was there to learn, to take risks, and to grow as an artist. In level A the exercises we would do for the most part were the foundation skills of improv. We learned about the famous "Yes And" that Tina Fey talks about in her book Bossy Pants, and about not blocking the offers our scene partner would present to us. "Every offer is a gift" our teachers would tell us, and if my scene partner came in and said "Hi Dad, why are you having an affair with my math teacher?' I have to accept the fact that I've been endowed by my scene partner as their Dad and apparently am having an affair with my their math teacher, whom if I chose, I could "Yes And" that offer and make that math teacher a male hermaphrodite from Brazil, if I chose to. So, I'm accepting the offer and adding to it. That's one of the things that makes improv exciting. You learn to really listen and to not judge. At the end of every class I felt exilerated. I was loving all the new things I was discovering and all the really gifted people, from all walks of life, that I was working with. Many of whom I can now call my friends. Now of course being a dancer, my controlling nature would often rear it's ugly head. I was the one who always wanted to steer whatever scene we were doing in the direction that I wanted to go. At the beginning, I was always trying to "write the scene." Well, improv is collaborative, it's never a one man show. You never know what's going to happen and rarely is it what you think. The more I did, the more I wanted to do. I had become an "Improv Junkie." For my whole time at Second City, many of my classmates kept up with it as well, and we moved on to the different levels together. Each level presented new and exciting challenges and I learned much from my success in class, but even more from my failures. As a class, we felt our Level C show was wonderful and that we were well prepared and right in the pocket. In our Level D show, we felt that we were mediocre at best. That's the thing about improv...nothing's a guarantee and you never know how something's going to pan out. I had gone all the way through to Level E which would finish with a show on The Second City Mainstage. Although I had been on huge stages throughout the country as well as the U.S.A, this was one of the most exilerating performances I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of. Why...because I "Jumped up and found out what happened on the way down!" I was completely in the moment because really, there's no choice. In improv every scene you do is motivated by a suggestion from the audience. So you take the suggestion and you run with it. Coming from Musical Theatre, I excelled in a scene called "Sounds Like A Song." In this scene, whomever is hosting the scene can shout out "Sounds Like A Song" and based on the very last sentence you said to your scene partner, the musical director then starts to play a musical style and basically you listen in, ground yourself, and sing. You sing a song that's totally off the cuff, in a style that your musical director picks for you. I love this scene and did this in my Level E show. The great thing about this, there's no time to get nervous.
For the most part, I had always been nervous singing in auditions. I can't recall a dance audition where I was nervous, but for whatever reason, the singing call would always be a challenge. Sometimes I'd do really well, and sometimes my nerves would get the better of me. It was always a hit or miss situation. Now, being a dancer first, I know I'm not alone in this. I know many dancers who feel the same way. In the past couple of weeks I've had two auditions, and subsequently, two call backs. Now to be honest, the dancing went well and I expect it to go well. It's never perfect, but that's my comfort zone and that's where I excell. For both auditions I had to sing and for the callbacks, I had to sing and do sides from the show I was auditioning for. Admittedly, (and I'm not exactly sure why), I wasn't really that nervous. In fact, these said callbacks were perhaps the most enjoyable callbacks I have ever had. For both shows that I was reading for, I felt invested and in the moment. Regardless if I gave the director exactly what they wanted, I was in it, and then open to change and to be directed. In fact, I welcomed any change or direction given and was able to implement the changes asked of me. Subsequently the singing calls felt grounded and in the moment also. In these callbacks, they were probably the first ever that I didn't judge every little, or big, sound that came out of my mouth, or every acting choice I made. But rather, just committed and was "In the monment."I really felt I went in and did my job. This was a very good feeling, and to be honest, pretty new. Were the auditions perfect, of course not. Were they committed, absolutely! Here's the thing, beyond what we do in the room, everything else is beyond our control. All we can do is control what we do in our audition, then after that, it's out of our hands.
At the end of these callbacks I kept saying to myself, "Thank you Second City." I truly believe that many of the foundation skills I learned at the centre, have served me well in many areas of the business and in life. One thing it has taught me for sure is to be "In The Moment." I encourage not only every dancer, but absolutely everyone to take a course there. It's truly a wonderful place and am looking forward to getting back at some point. Yes, I've done all the levels, but there's so much more yet to explore. Really, as far as improv goes, I've done levels A through E but really, I've only just scratched the surface. I may no longer be in the first grade, but feel I'm just about to enter high school.
So, if you have down time, (and you will at some point), make use of it. Take a risk, try something new, challenge yourself. Whatever you do, if it's done with good intentions, it's going to manifest a positive result.
Take care and be well.
Sincerely
Stephen Findlay A.K.A. The Oldest Male Chorus Dancer In Toronto
Wednesday 31 July 2013
Saturday 13 July 2013
The Audition That Changed My Life
Pretty dramatic title isn't it. "The Audition That Changed My Life." Well, the truth is, I've had a few auditions that have changed my life. Some good, some bad, and some just extremely average. But at this stage, I've come to the conclusion that there's value to be found in every audition that you will ever do.
By far the most gratifying audition I ever had was when I was sent in for the character of Mr. Brathwaite in the musical, Billy Elliott. Truthfully, I was surprised, (and thrilled), that I was being seen for that particular character at all. The character of Mr. Brathwaite is usually played by someone who is more of a "character type" than what I would be considered to be. To give you an idea of what I am referencing, the actor whom they were replacing at the time was six foot three, probably two hundred and forty pounds, and black. If I'm being totally honest with myself, I am in many ways, an average, generic type. I'm approximately six feet tall, I'm in good physical shape, and have nothing really quirky or different about me...personality aside. Although some may argue, I was perhaps the most generic looking man in the room. Every other actor called in, had a unique physicality or quirkiness about them that could lend itself to the role very nicely. Aside from my salt and pepper hair, I have the kind of look that could still fit easily in to any dance ensemble of any piece of musical theatre out there.
The audition for Billy Elliott was like none I had ever done before. I can honestly say that by the end of the day, I was spent. We learned multiple combinations that we would then do in groups of two. Following that, we were taught Mr. Brathwaite's solo which we would then do as a solo, get notes from the dance supervisor, then do again, with everyone in the room watching...no pressure there. Now I've always been of the firm belief that in an audition, you do exactly what the choreographer gives you, while still bringing your energy, and what makes you special to the table. I had watched numerous actors at that point perform the solo, all bringing their unique self to the role, regardless if they were dancers first or not. When it came time for me to perform, I was energized, precise and totally invested. After getting a couple of minor notes, I went again and was told point blank "You know, you're a wonderful dancer, but I just don't see your passion." At that point, I felt like someone had just slapped me across the face then kicked me to the floor. I thought " can't see my passion...I ooze passion!" But then it hit me, what she was really trying to tell me was that I just wasn't that funny. I didn't look funny, I could execute all the technical elements with ease, and there wasn't anything I did in that particular performance that seperated me from any other ex ballet dancer out there.
We were then asked to improvise a dance style that we would hate to do on stage. Immediately I thought that this could be my chance to redeem myself. I thought "you don't see my passion...just wait!" We were told to do maybe thirty or forty seconds and that the accompanist would improvise along with you. Most people picked pretty standard dance styles, modern, hoe down, ballet...then it was my turn. When asked what I'd like to do I replied "nineteen eighties, mellow dramatic, lyrical." The accompanist began to play and I then proceeded to pull out all the stops. I started by dramatically running around the entire room, stopping in the centre to just lift my head. I then ran to the auditioner's table, slammed my hands down on it, turned my head away, then turned back all the while doing a side kick layout. I then ran to the back of the room hit the wall, turned back to the panel and proceeded to run and slide on the floor to the dance captain whom was sitting and I grabbed and hugged her legs. My solo went on like this for another minute or so and I can say with full confidence, that when it was all over, I'm pretty certain my passion was no longer in question. I had saved nothing and left it all out on the floor. (I had also garnered applause from the entire room, including the panel.) We were then given more improvisation which did in fact follow with them making a cut...You know...that time in an audition that everyone hates. But for me, on that day, it was good news as they decided that I was to be kept. I can say with great certainty, that had I not left it all out on the floor in my improvised solo, I most likely would have been done for the day. So, I took a risk, and it payed off.
We were then given a break for lunch and were told that we would be working with the resident director when we returned. We were asked to have our song ready and had also been given sides to do. Upon our return we all went in, one by one this time. Now each person going in, was in the room for a good fifteen minutes, and each time someone came out, they had done something completely different than the person before. So really, no one had any idea what to expect. When it was my turn to go in, everything at first seemed quite standard. I was introduced to the resident director and musical director, I went over my song with the musical director, then sang. It was then that I got a taste of what everyone else had gone through previous. The resident director asked me to sing again, but this time to play the total opposite of the song. All during my song he'd stand two feet away and shout out questions to me about the story I was trying to tell. Once we were done, he made me do the song a third time and demanded even more from me. His energy was relentless and he was determined to get all he could out of me. I was then given a quick dialect test and did a small amount of range testing. The resident director then asked me to perform my monologue which I did. He then gave me some simple direction and I was asked to do it again. Upon completing my monologue the second time, he then informed me that we were going to do some improv where I would do the monologue as written, and he would act as Billy and stop me and ask me questions, in which I would respond while arranging small bits of torn up paper that were" very important" to me. Well what started as a thirty second monologue turned into a five minute improvised scene and truthfully, I felt like I was on fire. The adrenaline rush I got in that five minutes was like nothing I had felt before. I was elated and exhausted all at the same time. When I left that room all I could think of was how satisfying that whole experience was and how much I'd love to work with that director. After that, the rest of the day was filled with more dancing, in which I was made to do the Brathwaite solo three more times followed by doing some simple stage combat. All in all, it was a very full day.
Now...here's the thing.. After all that, I did not book the job. They kept telling me for a week that I was "in the mix," but in the end, it did go to someone else, who truthfully, was far more of a physical character type than myself. However, in that short amount of time, I was able to show them that although I may not be your "standard character type," I could in fact, be a strong contender for a character driven role. Truth be told, people in our business like to put us in categories. It's neater and easier that way and confuses no one. We even have names for these said categories... leading man, ingenue, character actor, and the list goes on. Once we can break free of those labels, it can open doors to so much more opportunity. But it does require both work and risk on our part. If you want to change people's mind about you, the first mind you need to change is your own.
Another reason that this was perhaps the most valued audition of my career thus far,(and perhaps the most important thing for me personally), is that this particular audition, was what led to me training at Second City, completing levels A through E in improvisation. Training at Second city was something I had always wanted to do and this particular audition gave me just the push I needed. I treasure the time I spent at Second City and I'm not done yet...I've barely scratched the surface. But I'll save that for my next blog entry.
So go ahead, take a risk...I dare you. I mean really, what's the worst that could happen...You might even discover something wonderful about yourself!
XO Stephen Findlay
A.K.A. The Oldest Male Chorus Dancer in Toronto
By far the most gratifying audition I ever had was when I was sent in for the character of Mr. Brathwaite in the musical, Billy Elliott. Truthfully, I was surprised, (and thrilled), that I was being seen for that particular character at all. The character of Mr. Brathwaite is usually played by someone who is more of a "character type" than what I would be considered to be. To give you an idea of what I am referencing, the actor whom they were replacing at the time was six foot three, probably two hundred and forty pounds, and black. If I'm being totally honest with myself, I am in many ways, an average, generic type. I'm approximately six feet tall, I'm in good physical shape, and have nothing really quirky or different about me...personality aside. Although some may argue, I was perhaps the most generic looking man in the room. Every other actor called in, had a unique physicality or quirkiness about them that could lend itself to the role very nicely. Aside from my salt and pepper hair, I have the kind of look that could still fit easily in to any dance ensemble of any piece of musical theatre out there.
The audition for Billy Elliott was like none I had ever done before. I can honestly say that by the end of the day, I was spent. We learned multiple combinations that we would then do in groups of two. Following that, we were taught Mr. Brathwaite's solo which we would then do as a solo, get notes from the dance supervisor, then do again, with everyone in the room watching...no pressure there. Now I've always been of the firm belief that in an audition, you do exactly what the choreographer gives you, while still bringing your energy, and what makes you special to the table. I had watched numerous actors at that point perform the solo, all bringing their unique self to the role, regardless if they were dancers first or not. When it came time for me to perform, I was energized, precise and totally invested. After getting a couple of minor notes, I went again and was told point blank "You know, you're a wonderful dancer, but I just don't see your passion." At that point, I felt like someone had just slapped me across the face then kicked me to the floor. I thought " can't see my passion...I ooze passion!" But then it hit me, what she was really trying to tell me was that I just wasn't that funny. I didn't look funny, I could execute all the technical elements with ease, and there wasn't anything I did in that particular performance that seperated me from any other ex ballet dancer out there.
We were then asked to improvise a dance style that we would hate to do on stage. Immediately I thought that this could be my chance to redeem myself. I thought "you don't see my passion...just wait!" We were told to do maybe thirty or forty seconds and that the accompanist would improvise along with you. Most people picked pretty standard dance styles, modern, hoe down, ballet...then it was my turn. When asked what I'd like to do I replied "nineteen eighties, mellow dramatic, lyrical." The accompanist began to play and I then proceeded to pull out all the stops. I started by dramatically running around the entire room, stopping in the centre to just lift my head. I then ran to the auditioner's table, slammed my hands down on it, turned my head away, then turned back all the while doing a side kick layout. I then ran to the back of the room hit the wall, turned back to the panel and proceeded to run and slide on the floor to the dance captain whom was sitting and I grabbed and hugged her legs. My solo went on like this for another minute or so and I can say with full confidence, that when it was all over, I'm pretty certain my passion was no longer in question. I had saved nothing and left it all out on the floor. (I had also garnered applause from the entire room, including the panel.) We were then given more improvisation which did in fact follow with them making a cut...You know...that time in an audition that everyone hates. But for me, on that day, it was good news as they decided that I was to be kept. I can say with great certainty, that had I not left it all out on the floor in my improvised solo, I most likely would have been done for the day. So, I took a risk, and it payed off.
We were then given a break for lunch and were told that we would be working with the resident director when we returned. We were asked to have our song ready and had also been given sides to do. Upon our return we all went in, one by one this time. Now each person going in, was in the room for a good fifteen minutes, and each time someone came out, they had done something completely different than the person before. So really, no one had any idea what to expect. When it was my turn to go in, everything at first seemed quite standard. I was introduced to the resident director and musical director, I went over my song with the musical director, then sang. It was then that I got a taste of what everyone else had gone through previous. The resident director asked me to sing again, but this time to play the total opposite of the song. All during my song he'd stand two feet away and shout out questions to me about the story I was trying to tell. Once we were done, he made me do the song a third time and demanded even more from me. His energy was relentless and he was determined to get all he could out of me. I was then given a quick dialect test and did a small amount of range testing. The resident director then asked me to perform my monologue which I did. He then gave me some simple direction and I was asked to do it again. Upon completing my monologue the second time, he then informed me that we were going to do some improv where I would do the monologue as written, and he would act as Billy and stop me and ask me questions, in which I would respond while arranging small bits of torn up paper that were" very important" to me. Well what started as a thirty second monologue turned into a five minute improvised scene and truthfully, I felt like I was on fire. The adrenaline rush I got in that five minutes was like nothing I had felt before. I was elated and exhausted all at the same time. When I left that room all I could think of was how satisfying that whole experience was and how much I'd love to work with that director. After that, the rest of the day was filled with more dancing, in which I was made to do the Brathwaite solo three more times followed by doing some simple stage combat. All in all, it was a very full day.
Now...here's the thing.. After all that, I did not book the job. They kept telling me for a week that I was "in the mix," but in the end, it did go to someone else, who truthfully, was far more of a physical character type than myself. However, in that short amount of time, I was able to show them that although I may not be your "standard character type," I could in fact, be a strong contender for a character driven role. Truth be told, people in our business like to put us in categories. It's neater and easier that way and confuses no one. We even have names for these said categories... leading man, ingenue, character actor, and the list goes on. Once we can break free of those labels, it can open doors to so much more opportunity. But it does require both work and risk on our part. If you want to change people's mind about you, the first mind you need to change is your own.
Another reason that this was perhaps the most valued audition of my career thus far,(and perhaps the most important thing for me personally), is that this particular audition, was what led to me training at Second City, completing levels A through E in improvisation. Training at Second city was something I had always wanted to do and this particular audition gave me just the push I needed. I treasure the time I spent at Second City and I'm not done yet...I've barely scratched the surface. But I'll save that for my next blog entry.
So go ahead, take a risk...I dare you. I mean really, what's the worst that could happen...You might even discover something wonderful about yourself!
XO Stephen Findlay
A.K.A. The Oldest Male Chorus Dancer in Toronto
Friday 5 July 2013
I Am The Dance Class Nazi
I love teaching open classes. I especially love teaching them in the summer. In the summer, I meet so many new dancers from different studios and cities, and get to re-connect with former students from various places that I've taught. It's very rewarding and am always so happy to see when people keep up with their training.
Truth be told, I am always on my students about keeping up with their training. At the end of the year at Sheridan College, I usually give a short talk. In this talk I tell them, take a couple weeks off, then get right back at it. If they are close to Toronto, they have many options for drop in classes in which some studios even offer a student discount. Even if you are living somewhere where there isn't an option to take class, you can always do something on your own.There is always a way. Other than being injured, there is really no excuse for not keeping your dance skills sharp.
At one point this past year, when having a discussion about this very thing, somebody refered to me as "The Dance Class Nazi." I thought, "Hmmm...am I really the dance class Nazi?" Let's explore that shall we.
Here's the thing, I have never understood dancers who don't train and keep their skills sharp. Something seems to happen with a lot of dancers where in when they finish at their studio or college, they don't keep up with their training. As a dancer, we are not only artists, but also athletes, and it's important to keep our facility, (our body), in shape, strong, and technically aware. If we don't, we are more susceptible to injury, and the older we get, the quicker we become out of shape. I've had this discussion with many dancers and they often tell me, "well, I've been doing yoga" or, "I haven't been to class, but I've been going to the gym." Now both of these things are great compliments to your dance training. I do both yoga and the gym and love it and I tell my students to do the same. But make no mistake, they are NOT a replacement for dance class. If they were, your average gym person or yoga enthusiast would also be dancers. I also hear many people who make reference to really good dancers who indeed work, and don't train. Well truthfully, a good dancer is more often than not still going to be a good dancer, even if they don't go to class. However, they will not be a great dancer, but more likely a mediocre version of their former great self. I know...it sounds harsh, but it's true. Now for some people...that works. I guess for my personal self, I always want to strive to be the best I can be.
Another thing that tends to happen when we don't train is that we lose our ability to pick up and execute choreography quickly and with intention. Dance is a vocabulary, a language, and when we don't speak it, we lose our fluency. I can not tell you how many wonderfully talented dancers, (dancers that I love and were excited to see), basically crashed and burned in the calls for Wizard Of Oz this past season. When it came time to perform in groups, many dancers didn't have a clue. One reason I'm almost sure of, is that unfortunately, dancers in this country don't have enough audition opportunities so nerves take over. But also, it's because although you may be talented, you haven't taken class in a year so your pick up skills are weak. I don't know how many times I've heard " Well if I just had another chance" or "I could get it in rehearsal if they just gave me time." Well unfortunately, if someone hasn't worked with you, they are not going to know that. They want to see what they are going to get at that moment, right in front of them. It's not personal, they don't hate you, it's just what they want. I heard a lot of the same grumblings after the Cats auditions. But the truth of the matter is, Cats is a very specific show, and one where many of the characters are required to have strong technique and nice lines. If you haven't been to class...chances are that's not going to be you. Now there are always extenuating circumstances to these situations. Rarely is it black and white. Things like height, vocal ability, ethnicity, who you know, past experience...all these things do come in to play. But if you perform well and with confidence in your initial dance call, you're more than half way there.
Even if you are a singer first, it's in your best interest to take classes when you can. One shining example of this is a young actor by the name of Lucas Meeuse. When he entered Sheridan college, he was a beginner dancer in the lowest level, and could not kick past ninety degrees. Through a lot of hard work and training, Lucas now can take a dance class of an intermediate/advanced level and hold his own quite well. The same goes for Tess Benger. Here's a young actor who has for the most part, played leading roles since she graduated from Sheridan. Again when she entered the college she had minimal dance training yet now through a lot of hard work, can fit in well taking classes of an intermediate/advanced level. What both of these artists have done in a short time has been quite incredible and has just made them that much more employable in the world of muscal theatre.
I'm the first to admit that there have been times in my life where I wasn't taking class as often as I should due to finances or work. But if I didn't have the money, I always had the ability to give myself a ballet barre or do a good solid jazz warm up. It's all possible, it just depends on your own self discipline.
So instead of grumbling about why you may have not booked the gig, take that energy and put it to good use. Go take a dance class. If you have no money, give yourself a class or go to Zumba at your gym. At the very least you'll be putting movement together and doing something of value for yourself. Also, if you haven't been to class in a while, don't beat yourself up about it, just go. Everyday is a new beginning with new opportunities. That in itself is exciting!
So I guess it's true...I am "The Dance Class Nazi." See you in class...Hopefully!
Stephen Findlay
Truth be told, I am always on my students about keeping up with their training. At the end of the year at Sheridan College, I usually give a short talk. In this talk I tell them, take a couple weeks off, then get right back at it. If they are close to Toronto, they have many options for drop in classes in which some studios even offer a student discount. Even if you are living somewhere where there isn't an option to take class, you can always do something on your own.There is always a way. Other than being injured, there is really no excuse for not keeping your dance skills sharp.
At one point this past year, when having a discussion about this very thing, somebody refered to me as "The Dance Class Nazi." I thought, "Hmmm...am I really the dance class Nazi?" Let's explore that shall we.
Here's the thing, I have never understood dancers who don't train and keep their skills sharp. Something seems to happen with a lot of dancers where in when they finish at their studio or college, they don't keep up with their training. As a dancer, we are not only artists, but also athletes, and it's important to keep our facility, (our body), in shape, strong, and technically aware. If we don't, we are more susceptible to injury, and the older we get, the quicker we become out of shape. I've had this discussion with many dancers and they often tell me, "well, I've been doing yoga" or, "I haven't been to class, but I've been going to the gym." Now both of these things are great compliments to your dance training. I do both yoga and the gym and love it and I tell my students to do the same. But make no mistake, they are NOT a replacement for dance class. If they were, your average gym person or yoga enthusiast would also be dancers. I also hear many people who make reference to really good dancers who indeed work, and don't train. Well truthfully, a good dancer is more often than not still going to be a good dancer, even if they don't go to class. However, they will not be a great dancer, but more likely a mediocre version of their former great self. I know...it sounds harsh, but it's true. Now for some people...that works. I guess for my personal self, I always want to strive to be the best I can be.
Another thing that tends to happen when we don't train is that we lose our ability to pick up and execute choreography quickly and with intention. Dance is a vocabulary, a language, and when we don't speak it, we lose our fluency. I can not tell you how many wonderfully talented dancers, (dancers that I love and were excited to see), basically crashed and burned in the calls for Wizard Of Oz this past season. When it came time to perform in groups, many dancers didn't have a clue. One reason I'm almost sure of, is that unfortunately, dancers in this country don't have enough audition opportunities so nerves take over. But also, it's because although you may be talented, you haven't taken class in a year so your pick up skills are weak. I don't know how many times I've heard " Well if I just had another chance" or "I could get it in rehearsal if they just gave me time." Well unfortunately, if someone hasn't worked with you, they are not going to know that. They want to see what they are going to get at that moment, right in front of them. It's not personal, they don't hate you, it's just what they want. I heard a lot of the same grumblings after the Cats auditions. But the truth of the matter is, Cats is a very specific show, and one where many of the characters are required to have strong technique and nice lines. If you haven't been to class...chances are that's not going to be you. Now there are always extenuating circumstances to these situations. Rarely is it black and white. Things like height, vocal ability, ethnicity, who you know, past experience...all these things do come in to play. But if you perform well and with confidence in your initial dance call, you're more than half way there.
Even if you are a singer first, it's in your best interest to take classes when you can. One shining example of this is a young actor by the name of Lucas Meeuse. When he entered Sheridan college, he was a beginner dancer in the lowest level, and could not kick past ninety degrees. Through a lot of hard work and training, Lucas now can take a dance class of an intermediate/advanced level and hold his own quite well. The same goes for Tess Benger. Here's a young actor who has for the most part, played leading roles since she graduated from Sheridan. Again when she entered the college she had minimal dance training yet now through a lot of hard work, can fit in well taking classes of an intermediate/advanced level. What both of these artists have done in a short time has been quite incredible and has just made them that much more employable in the world of muscal theatre.
I'm the first to admit that there have been times in my life where I wasn't taking class as often as I should due to finances or work. But if I didn't have the money, I always had the ability to give myself a ballet barre or do a good solid jazz warm up. It's all possible, it just depends on your own self discipline.
So instead of grumbling about why you may have not booked the gig, take that energy and put it to good use. Go take a dance class. If you have no money, give yourself a class or go to Zumba at your gym. At the very least you'll be putting movement together and doing something of value for yourself. Also, if you haven't been to class in a while, don't beat yourself up about it, just go. Everyday is a new beginning with new opportunities. That in itself is exciting!
So I guess it's true...I am "The Dance Class Nazi." See you in class...Hopefully!
Stephen Findlay
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