Category: rehearsal

behind the scenes magic

I intended to write this post last month, but after 3.5 years of avoiding it covid hit me. I did better than I expected with it, for which i’m incredibly grateful and recognize my privilege in that. I think the avoidance for so long helped me personally so it was more mutated by the time I actually got it, but I know for some people that doesn’t matter. what a difficult time to live in and navigate.

In the in between of Nutcracker and auditions for Spring Show, I didn’t see many people, but a few people came by for various things. One raffle prize winner has a granddaughter that dances with us. When she arrived to pick up her prize, we got into conversation about the productions and the discipline that goes into it as well as the magic. I asked if she had ever been in the studio, she said only to drop her granddaughter off. I offered her a tour which she gladly accepted.

From the foyer of our studio, you walk through a costume room with tutus and character dresses and rat heads hanging from the ceiling and carefully stacked. Many times the dancers walk passed it without a second thought, used to the sight of of the stacks of fabric they pass by week after week, some pausing to comment on what animal they were as 7 year olds or the seemingly endless years of villager roles, but most rushing past to the studio without a second thought.

This lady gasped; she was in complete awe of the vastness of it. I pointed out a few costumes from recent ballets, talked about the fire we had in the 1990s and showed some of the costumes that survived that we still use and which ones we got from Louisville Ballet after that have held up so well over the last 30 years of constant use with who knows how many years of use before that.

From there I walked her through the break room and showed her the studio. A room we are so familiar with its easy to forget how impressive it is. A converted warehouse, there’s a weight-bearing support structure in the middle of the front of the floor, one each dancer is all too familiar with avoiding while rehearsing and having to adjust to its absence when we’re on stage.

There’s a wall of thick cubed windows, made in a way you can’t see through them but allow a beautiful amount of natural light to come in, and a back wall of mirrors with curtains pulled back and tucked behind the barres when not in use. The lady was so impressed, speaking to how awe inspiring it was to see the place where we work in the lead up to performances. We talked about the process and how things translate from there to stage, seeing the light in her eyes bringing a smile to my face.

It truly is magic.

It’s easy to forget when it’s something you’re so closely involved in, something you’re so used to dedicating so much of your time to, something you experience so often. If we allow ourselves to take a step back and notice the magic flowing all around us, remember the first time we were involved, remember how we felt the first time we put on a tutu, remember our excitement with goals we achieved—remember the magic—we can bring a little bit of that with us and translate it onto the stage. Sometimes we need to take a step back and realize how incredibly lucky and privileged we are to be involved in something like this at all, and for us specifically at our studio to be under the tutelage of such a legendary teacher.

Of course, there will be downs along with the ups, and there is cause to feel and process the not-so-magical parts of this world. There’s disappointment and difficulty and long, long days. There are things completely out of our control and things that feel personal but aren’t, some I remember all too well (aye swifties) from my own experiences. However, the conclusion I came to is I dance for me. Ballet is what I make it. For some people, that includes a change of some form, a move, an adjustment, a program elsewhere than their home studio, a shake up in their routine. For others, it’s a mentality shift, a step back, a perspective change.

What you bring to ballet is your legacy to it. And if you bring your best, if you work hard, if you do it for you, that’s a beautiful legacy to leave, and you should be proud of yourself on that.

Today as I go back to the studio for rehearsals, sitting at my desk in the office and flitting back and forth from the studio for various tasks, i’ll choose to remember the magic, to hold the memories of the days when my body let me move freely close, and appreciate the privilege it is to have involvement still even with my limitations.

Advertisement

Swan rehearsal and fitting

This morning I woke up feeling anxious. 

I couldn’t shake it. One of the girls even mentioned before barre that I didn’t seem myself.  I found myself fighting off panic attacks at the barre and it only escalated into rehearsal. 

I bit my lip until it cracked and dug my nails into my side until someone distracted me with a question. Thankfully. Because I’m sure I would have broken skin without even thinking. 

That’s something people don’t know or realize about me, I guess. The darkness of my past. It typically stays there, but sometimes it can creep back into the present and the fight is exhausting. 

Today was one of those days. 

Only one girl wasn’t there, and another one wasn’t feeling well so she sat out. Ms Munro had girls who hadn’t run it go in so I was marking it from the sidelines. It wasn’t all that bad, like no worse than usual at least. Part of me was grateful to not have to be “on” but the other part of me knows that I don’t have the luxury of getting to be off. Not right now. 

I really appreciated one of the moms coming up and encouraging me. I had really gotten inside my head at that point. Why am I here? Why do I even try? What is the point of it all if I work my hardest and nothing comes of it? Who am I kidding? If I’m not good enough now what makes me think I will be later? Whose to say I’ll even have a later? I was so beyond frustrated and I hated myself for it. The battle was real, and the “dark place” was rampant. But she came up and encouraged me without even realizing what she was doing. Well, part of it I’m sure she did. But really, I was so grateful.

I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be upset or frustrated or bitter or anything. I just want to dance. 

After that point, I stood there and asked myself some questions. 

Why am I upset? Because I didn’t get to be a swan. 

Yeah but you’re still in Swan Lake. Yeah, but I wanted to be good enough to be this role. 

Okay but you can’t change anything now. So what are you going to do about it? Well. I’m gonna work hard and do my best. 

Cause really. Why am I here? What drives me to show up every day, even if I’m not a swan? I do it because I love dance, I love the art form. I love getting to be here and try new things and learn and grow. And aren’t I getting to do that still? 

I get out of this what I put into it. And sure it sucks that some of the other girls don’t even bother to show up or put in effort. But Mrs Alex is right–I’d rather be a good person than a stellar dancer. At least dance is something you can work to improve upon. 

So it can really suck being a cover. It’s hard and exhausting and really emotional. But it’s what I am. It’s what I signed up for. And I made a commitment. I don’t want to go back on that just because the cards didn’t fall in my favor. That would be immature. Now my goal is to be the one they can count on. To do everything I can to know the parts so I can be relied upon should anything happen. I want to put a good taste in their mouth, make their jobs easier. 

Even if I don’t get to dance swan, I can still tell them a lot of my character by my actions. 

They had swan fittings after. We didn’t have to be there but I was to wait for my friend who is a swan. It was cool getting to see them all together. The costumes are gorgeous. I really am proud of how good it’s looking and how well they’re really coming together. I got to actually watch it today. It’s really neat. 

   
    
    
   
A few of my friends 😊

Here’s a few before class. 

   
   

Daily Auditions

During warmup at rehearsal on Saturday, Ms. Munro made a comment.

She said that during auditions, we really present and give our all and look our best, yet when we have class and rehearsals, we do less than that. She said we should do our audition-best all the time. Pushing our limits and working hard every class is how we will improve.
These words were mostly met with grumbled excuses of how 10am is so early for a Saturday and glazed eyes spacing out on who knows what. 
But I took that.
I thought of the girls that seem to get every role.
Of course, they’re talented, but so are these ones that get overlooked. What’s the difference?
I watched during rehearsal, and saw how those were the girls smiling through rehearsal–treating it like a performance. I know this isn’t always easy, especially in the learning process. But it is possible to give a little more to try and make it as much of a show as you can. 
To treat it like an audition.
So I decided I will do just that.
From now on, ever class, every rehearsal is an audition.
I’m gonna try and keep my brain clear, so I don’t freak out. I’m going to tell myself I can do these things. I’m going to work even harder outside of the class room. I’m going to do everything I can to show them I want this; to better myself.
Yesterday’s class is the one day I can get away with slacking off, but I didn’t. I determined to implement this immediately.There were moments I faltered, but I tried to use every opportunity to add in extra and really give my all. Of course, there are limitations–especially for me. But I worked around the limitations, pushing them as far as I could, to get the most out of class possible.
I found myself sweating complete buckets, but also doing things I typically can’t do and trying things that would scare me. I made it through combinations I usually struggle with and even saw improvements on some of my steps, once even getting a “Good!” from the teacher who doesn’t really compliment. 
I was even able to do an en dedan turn on my bad side, though that shoe felt better for some reason, making risk a little less scary. Curious to explore to find out why.
A humorous part of class was when we did a combination across the floor. I was doing pretty alright until it got to chaines. I tried on the first side, and honestly tried on the second side, until–ya know–I forgot my left leg is shorter and had my hips squared which meant the floor wasn’t where I expected it to be and it felt like when you miss a step walking down stairs. Pretty hilarious, especially since I didn’t get hurt. Hehe
I had a friend text me after class saying that I looked really good in class yesterday. Coming from her, I know she means it, which means so much to me, and fuels my fire even more.
(Hannah’s feet on Saturday)

Swan Rehearsal

We had our first Swan Lake rehearsal today.
When we got there, seven girls were missing, one of whom was also a cover, which left us four covers with six spots to fill. We sort of went by height, and then just left the other two spots for later.
I was the cover for my friend Adrienne, since she is one of the tallest.
It went really well, and I think we learned a good chunk of the swan bit. I wouldn’t say it was all that hard, but definitely takes immense stamina and dedication with attention to detail. It’s not for the faint of heart.
The swans are all–obviously–part of the corps, but there are many different variations of corps work among it. Being the cover is turning out to be quite the endeavor. There are parts that are just mirrored on each other, then depending on if you’re stage right or stage left with determine which leg to begin on. Of course, Adrienne wasn’t part of that. she was in the back of the middle, which had the different bit. What’s more is that she is part of a section that consists of just her and one other dancer. It’s not really a solo since they’re all dancing at the same time, but it is different from everyone else.
Chances are once I teach this to Adrienne, I’ll never have to learn it again. So I had one of the girls in the middle part teach me the different part they learned. Of course, I didn’t retain it as well, but at least I get the gist of it. I also had one of the girls on the sides show me what it is they do so at least I’m exposed to it and if I’m thrown in one of those spots, it won’t be completely foreign.
I asked my friend who owns the DVD from our last production if I can borrow it so I can learn all the different sections, just in case.
Ps. Two of the girls that were missing showed up late, so the one went in her spot and the cover went in the other.

I sewed my Gaynor’s just in case we had to do pointe today, though I doubted we did. I put them on after rehearsal to get a picture for a friend who couldn’t be there, and then showed them to Mrs. Alex. Ms. Munro ended up coming over as well, so we discussed my feet and my shoes and how my knee doesn’t hurt, even after this rehearsal, and why I don’t do jumps in Julie’s class, and Ms. Munro agreed to not do grand plie’s and all that. Mrs. Alex even said these shoes made my feet look better. I don’t want them to cause me to be lazy, but it definitely is nice having the extra support in keeping my arch where it needs to be.
We are a bit concerned about the sizing on them, since my big toe literally hits the end and feels like it’s being pushed hard enough to make the knuckle bend, but Gaynor’s are supposed to give a bit with wear, so we’re going to see how that goes.

After assisting class on Friday, I was talking with a friend who also teaches at the studio. She told me, very gently and tactfully, that she thought my shoes held me back at auditions. I told her about the fitting earlier this week and how I got Gaynor’s, and she agreed that they sounded like the best option. She has similar issues and was able to give me even more insight on how to help with it.
I swear, if it wasn’t for my dance friends, I don’t know if I would be able to keep dancing. Their advice and input and support has literally been everything.

I’m pretty exhausted after today. Didn’t help that my body still hates me and food isn’t really my friend. I’m at a loss of what else to do about it.

I decided that on the days I get to rehearse for swans, I will tell myself, “You are a swan.” It helps me be more into it when we actually do it, rather than just feel like the title of “cover” is looming over me. I have no idea what the future holds. There is a very real possibility that I can do all this work and never get to dance it. There is also a possibility that one of the other covers could get it over me. I don’t know. I try not to think about it. I’m going to move on and keep going and do my best, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt to think about. But, it also doesn’t mean I need to talk about it. I feel stupid mentioning it at all anymore. Like maybe people aren’t telling me everything and maybe I’m not as good as I think I am.
One of my teachers told me today to not take missing out on this role as a sign that I’m not good. She said that there’s probably more playing into it, and it may not be fair to me, but that it’s part of the deal. I don’t know how much of that is true, but you almost can’t help but believe that it is. Reality is, it’s a small town, and this non profit runs on money that I may not bring in simply because I’m older, I don’t have super loaded friends or tons of family dying to pay loads of money to see me dance.

My reality is that each day there’s another reminder of how much I wanted this, slapping me in the face, showing me I missed the mark. No one really knows what all is going on on the inside. But honestly, I don’t think that’s for anyone but me to know.
What good would it do to share that with anyone anyway? No one can change things. All I can do now is work my butt off and hope it’s not for nothing.
And limit my crying.
And not get overwhelmed as work starts getting more intense.
Ahhhhhhhhhh

Last rehearsal before theatre week!

Yesterday was our last rehearsal in the downtown studio. The rest of them will officially be in the theatre and it doesn’t feel like this is even possible that by this time next week, Wizard of Oz will be a memory.

I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

(I am ready to be able to go to bed and not have the super buzzing-bee-cartoon-character-type music in my head all night, though, so there’s that.) (ps. that’s what the Winkie Guard Solo scene music sounds like.)

(anyway.)

We were supposed to run it twice, but were only able to run it full-through once.
I got to do the Crows one last time, as one of the girls who is usually there wasn’t. I’m not sure where she was, but the poor girl has been sick for a while and dancing through it so maybe that’s it. I just hope she’s feeling better, poor girl has been working her butt off for this show. Of all the girls I’d have to jump in for, she and one other would break my heart.

Before and after Crows I ran the first scene with the girls in hopes that we would be able to show Julie that we mean business and are working hard. They were really showing some great improvement and I was proud of them. I think the hardest part during these studio rehearsals is their struggle with distraction. There are so many people and movement and things going on that if you aren’t completely focused, you’re bound to mess up. It’s even happened to me. The front people can’t afford this.
Sadly, one of the front girls messed up so they both got switched in the scene. It was a tough lesson to learn, but it happened anyway. The girls that got moved forward will do the part well. They know it through and through and I think the bout of necessary confidence will be great for them.
Most everything else seemed to show great improvement.

During corrections, we got chewed because a lot of the girls weren’t paying attention. (not all, but enough.)
It’s no wonder those are the ones that don’t know what’s going on most of the time. It takes a toll on everyone.
It’s exhausting to have to be the one to hold up the group, and I wouldn’t be able to without the couple other girls that are very aware of what is going on. Knowing I can bounce things off them and we can come to a conclusion is what keeps this scene afloat. If they would just do confidently what they know, they would shine. But I understand it’s hard at that age, especially with so many people watching and it being such a risk.

I sent a few of the pictures to the company principals when I got home (even though I’m kinda not supposed to?) and got to talking with my friend Abby.
She said this:

I told her how there are times I just want to shake some of the girls and scream “SHE JUST SAID WHAT YOU’RE ASKING ME LITERALLY TEN SECONDS AGO PAY ATTENTION.” But that’s not allowed. I then mentioned how nice it was to hear it, too, because before when I was involved in dance or theatre, to do what I’m doing here was a guaranteed way to get yourself stuck as an understudy. Instead of seeing all your hard work and taking it into consideration that you’d be a good person to rely on and cast in the role in the first place, they saw you as a solid back up to have for if the leads flaked like they were prone to. (yet they always seemed to pull it together for the show. All glory, no work ethic.) It’s really nice to know that working hard to make sure things still run smoothly in case something happens isn’t going to get me permanently benched, but instead will help me in the long run.
She then said:

And this is when I melted into a puddle.
For the first time in a really, really long time I actually feel like I belong somewhere. That who I am is enough just as I am. That I’m not a failure or lacking or a disappointment, but instead a valuable asset. That hard work isn’t being ignored.
(Ps. I have really great friends that are there for me when I need it and quick to celebrate me when things go well. To have such people there for the highs as well as the lows is something I cherish. You people make the world go round.)

Understudy.

When I did theater in High School, I tended to get understudy roles.
Such is the curse of responsible students, and ones who won’t complain until you give them a part.
(and it probably didn’t help that I was insecure and didn’t speak up. How times have changed.)

Point is, I learned so many valuable lessons being the understudy, and here we are ten years later putting them to extreme use.

The understudy is one of the biggest responsibilities.
You have to learn the part you cover, plus be aware of all the other parts. You have to be capable of jumping in on a moments notice, possibly without ever actually doing the role any more than just on the sidelines or by yourself. And all this work could still lead to you not getting to do the role on stage. And you have to be okay with it.
That’s probably the hard part; working your tail off, showing up to every rehearsal, filling in and never getting the fulfillment of actually performing it on that stage.

But all is not lost.

Show up; early even. Be there.
Focus hard, learn every in and out of that part. Leave no stone unturned.
Remain aware. Ask questions if you need to. Keep yourself prepared. Keep the role familiar and fresh in your mind. Run it in your head. Mark it and think it through. Work hard.

Because even if you don’t get to dance the role on the stage during the performance, those couple minutes on that stage isn’t the tell all.

Today in rehearsal, three girls were out of the role I cover for auditions with their new High School. It worked out slick cause it was the girl I typically cover, and the other two that were missing were a pair, so the dance didn’t look awkward. I strapped on my character shoes and danced it like it were my last time to dance it because, chances are, it was.
I was hoping they would be gone and I would get to do it in costume the second run through, but they showed up.
I got complimented on the way I do the role, which makes me feel really good inside. Not because I think I’m better than anyone, because I know I’m really not. But because it means I’m doing my job.
Yeah, it sucks that I put in all this work–more than some of the cast roles in some cases–but that’s my part. I’m the cover; the understudy. I’m not entitled to the role. I’m just doing my job. Covering is my part.
For people to tell me that I do the role well, and that they enjoy watching me, really just puts my nerves at ease. I’m twice the age of some of these girls, ten years older than others, and I haven’t even been dancing half the amount of years they have. Yet I get to dance along side them. I get to be included.
To know that they like it means that I have succeeded, and at the beginning of this, I wasn’t so sure that I would. I was very nervous. But I rose. The impossible became possible.

My back started hurting after the second half, but it’s feeling better than is usual, especially for the amount of dancing we’re doing. What kicked me in the butt today was the IBS. Earlier this week I got really stressed out at work, and when that happens it effects my digestion. I’ll spare you the gory details, but lets just say it greatly effected how much I can use my core. Which is, ya know, important to ballet. There were times I felt like I was going to have to run to the bathroom, or throw up, or when costumes were on I was a bit concerned I might pass out. I couldn’t even finish my lunch, my stomach hurt so badly. The way I felt today is probably the most extreme side effects I’ve had since being diagnosed. Holding it all together proved difficult, but I just tried to breathe. Hyper focusing on something else helped take my mind off of it, which helped me plow through. The still moments were the most difficult.
When we got to the second run-through, Mrs. Julie told us the changes to how the school show was going to go since it mostly effected the Winkie Guards role. (any other it effected were just dropped, not changed.) We ran a bit of it just to mark and iron out before putting on our costumes and doing the whole thing. The moment is blurry now (my brain is mush) as to when Mrs. Julie actually came up to me, but she did, and she said, “Emerson had to leave. Do you know her solo?” to which I said, “yes” she said, “can you do it?” and I said, “yes” and then she said, “Okay, lets mark it.” and we did a couple times to make sure I had the arms and the positioning right. She threw in a “make it big” to get the expression how she wants it and I ran it a couple times then went to put on my costume.

I was nervous beyond all reason. The feet weren’t fluid to me, and I really didn’t want to mess it up. I had never actually ran it before, but this wasn’t the time to be nervous. This was the time to show that I can do this. That you can throw me into a role and I’ll be able to step up. This was the time to trust my training and just go for it.
When it came down to it, I had the timing off a little, which made me not have my feet right, but I had the direction right, and fixed it the first second I had a chance.
No one really noticed. They mostly commented on how well I did the character, which is what matters during shows like this that tell a story.
As soon as it was over and I went to grab my bow (our prop) and join in with the other girls, I knew my little flub would not be what was remembered. Since I was filling in for Emerson, the girls didn’t have anyone to watch for the timing of the part that we begin as soon as Emerson is finished and walking off into the wings before she joins us. It was a complete mess, and I just kind of laughed inside.
No one would remember my flub.
Sure enough, when it came time for corrections, that was what got the heat. They can’t rely on me so much, but have to know it for themselves. I don’t know what else they can say to get it through their heads, but they really need to take ownership and pay attention to know what’s going on instead of relying on me all the time. It’s really exhausting.
(now, this isn’t to say no one pays attention. There are those that do, and they are the ones that I know I can ask questions to if I’m a little unsure as to what’s next, or to come and get me from the other side of the stage if I’m not in the right place because I’m mixing up my scenes. Some of the girls have a great handle on things, but rely on the extra added security, because honestly, who wouldn’t? But they have to know how to function without it. I think it was a good eye opener. Those few girls are really good, and they got complimented today in ways that show their hard work. I was proud.)
Some of the more advanced girls complimented me on the solo. One even gave me a glance when the other guards got chewed. It made me feel good to know that my hard work is churning out results. Now I know that I’m not the best dancer out there. I know I have much to improve on. But all those compliments really mean so much to me. Not to fuel my ego, but to feel like I’ve finally come full circle.
Before, I would work so hard, and still be ignored. Like my best was never enough. This seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life and it is pretty draining. It can sap the life right out of you.
But to be here, and to know that I can work hard, and put forth all this effort, and do my best every day and that it isn’t unseen, it makes every bit of it so worth it.
Because really, every rehearsal is an audition. These directors and teachers glean things about you from it. They form up a running log of what you’re capable of, how you respond, if you’re responsible, how you handle pressure or malfunctions, how you communicate, you work ethic, and they put all these things into consideration in future shows.
I know some politics goes into roles occasionally, it’s inevitable, but I have a full heart knowing that I have done everything I can and that it’s enough. That if I don’t get a full role, it’s not because of anything I did. That they will utilize me where they see I fit and know that I am capable of good things. I know that they know they can put their trust in me, and breathe easy knowing I’ll do what I’m asked and what’s required of me.

Even though I don’t get to dance Crows for any of the shows, and even though Emerson will be back in her solo tomorrow (she rocks it, by the way.) this wasn’t all for nothing.
If anything, I really love being the cover. Being the one that can let the director breathe easier knowing I’m there in case anything happens. Especially on a show like this.

I have done my job.

Before rehearsal. 

After rehearsal.
We’re dead inside.

Annika hacking my phone 😀

Apparently it rained? That’s usually a field…

And this is when I realized I forgot my rainboots at the studio.

They said I earned it.

We had our second Crows rehearsal on Friday.
I wasn’t expecting all of the girls to be there, since one of them told me she wouldn’t be able to make it, but they all showed up. We were able to teach the two girls who had missed last time the dance and changed up one part (which added this funny floppy-fish move which is kind of awesome) to make it flow better.

Since I’m just the cover, I did everything behind the other girls. It was awkward for me because this was my first experience covering, so I asked a lot of stupid questions, but I honestly just didn’t know. Ms Julie is really patient and understanding and amazing, so she didn’t make me feel stupid for my questions at all, which was really nice.
We ran it and ran it and tried to perfect it and got a little better each time. It is such a fun dance, I enjoy getting to be a part. Ms. Jane had finished the costumes so we were able to try them on to make sure they fit, and it is probably the best costume I’ve ever worn. (I also made her laugh with a boob joke. So, there’s that. I love Ms. Jane.)

After rehearsal was over, I asked Ms. Julie if she wanted me there for the Crows pictures or not. I figured that the covers usually didn’t take the picture with the cast dancers, but it’s a good deal before my Winkie Guard picture so I wanted to be sure. It wasn’t close enough to play off and show up early just in case. I almost didn’t ask, but I figured, “Why the heck not?” I’m new anyway, right? I’ve already asked stupid questions. Why not ask another?
She was sitting next to Ms. Munro, and so she got this soft look on her face and turned to Ms. Munro and said, “Well, I don’t know what we normally do? Are covers in the picture?
To which Ms. Munro replied, “Normally not, but, do you have a costume? You do, right?”
To which I said, “Yes, ma’am. Ms. Jane had enough material left over and made one in case I have to fill in for someone shorter. Don’t want to get caught unprepared.”
Then Ms. Munro said, “Well I don’t see why not. You’ve been doing extremely well, all of our covers have been picking up on their dances and working really hard.”
Then the subject kind of switched over to scheduling, because four of the six girls have something going on with the same school extracurricular activity that I thought they were missing that rehearsal for. (It ended up only being Saturday they missed.) Ms. Julie says, “This is why covers are so important; for traveling. That’s how I ended up getting my start. I was a cover and we were traveling and we lost a dancer so they put me in. Covers are so important and it’s a big responsibility to have to jump in on a moments notice. We don’t cast them lightly. And they are all doing so well; you may think we don’t see it but all your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed.”
Then Ms. Munro pipes up, “That’s it! You’ve earned it! You’re in the picture!”

And my little heart melts and explodes at the same time.

I almost cried when I got cast as this role, because I thought I just solidified my fate at how horrible I am at the audition. The fact that I got cast as two different things–even if one was just a cover–blew my mind. I was included, I was seen. Then I heard a comment that made me wonder if I was just put as the cover as a have-to. Because I’m a IV/V, and all the other IV/V’s have two roles, too, and I’m not an actual role–I’m just a cover. Maybe it was just to meet the two-role quota. I tried to encourage myself that it could have been worse and that being given this opportunity was a big responsibility, but in the back of my mind I remembered being the fill in during advanced at my old studio and how when someone dropped they didn’t put me in, they just reblocked. I wasn’t good enough. I failed. Maybe they were seeing it as a way to fill the quota and a fairly easy risk since chances are I won’t have to dance and then crisis averted.
I wanted to prove to them I could do it. I wanted to work hard to show them it wasn’t a mistake trusting me with this role. I want to be prepared just in case something does happen I don’t embarrass myself or make everything else look bad. I didn’t want to falter in the trust given to me. So I worked hard, even though I don’t really have much to work with to be able to practice. I kicked walls running through blocking in the bathroom, I pulled a muscle sneaking in a practice in the warehouse at work. I went over the steps in my mind until they were solid, mentally thinking through every step and how it transitions and pouring over the details so I could approach this confidently even though every bit of this is out of my comfort zone because I know confidence does more than talent can ever do alone.
And it was worth it.
Even if I don’t get to dance it, even if rehearsals is all I ever see of this dance, even if I don’t get to feel the swish of the dress at my knees on stage, I get to be in the picture.
And even if something happens and they don’t make enough head pieces and I have to not be in the picture or something, I would be a little sad, but that would be okay, because I got all the validation I need.
They said I earned it.

That bit of happenings meant more to me than I could ever explain or express.
Now I’m itching to work hard and continue to improve.
I wish I could afford to dance more, but I am grateful for rehearsals. Even just having that, I can see improvement.
I am hopeful.

Winkie Guards Rehearsal

Saturday was our second rehearsal for the Winkie Guards role in Wizard of Oz.
I realized this weekend that being in this role, we will be on stage almost the entire second act of the show. There are five scenes in Act II and we are in four of them.
This is incredibly exciting.

One of the girls made the comment that she was offended that we weren’t dancing on pointe.
I kind of laughed at the notion of it being offensive, but I also think I am viewing this from a different mindset than someone who has grown up in this studio and thinks in the hierarchy of things. And also, whose friends are in roles that dance on pointe.
I see it from the mindset of the shape of the show as a whole.
Winkie Guards doesn’t need to be on pointe. If anything it’s more of a contemporary role than a strict ballet one. We’re wearing jazz shoes. It just makes sense. Maybe it’s the theater brain in me.
I tried to explain this to her, that it’s nothing to be offended at because they didn’t decide this based on our ability. They decided roles based on height, took into minor consideration our levels, and what shape the scenes would make.

We learned our entire first and second scenes. I think they are very fun. Our next rehearsal will include the Wicked Witch of the West, which means that my friend who plays the witch will be there, and also my friend from class who is the cover.

The Winged Monkies are adorable, and each of us are assigned one that we kind of buddy up to. Mine ended up being my friend from my old studio, who ironically was out that day. I don’t know if Julie did it on purpose or what, but I’m excited.

We also have a Crows rehearsal on Friday, with Coco the Crow as well. The girl whose spot I covered last time won’t be here this time either. So we’ll teach the other girl who was absent this week, and then will have to teach the other girl the next rehearsal, which I think is when we’re getting more into it and adding more of the characters together. It’s not hard, it’s just fast. I hope she can pick up on it.

We’ll see what happens.
I’m excited to have more people in with us, but sad that I won’t get to take as many pictures this time around. I’m going to try and see if I can get someone to come and shoot a rehearsal, but I don’t know. I wish I could clone myself.

It just kinda sucks to be the one taking all the pictures, although it’s awesome to be able to give them to the other dancers, it sucks that the parts your in get overlooked.

I need a clone.