Dancing With Myself

Yesterday, I auditioned for the national tour of "The Color Purple". Not out of the ordinary, right? I'm a singer/actress, I audition for things. But that's just it. I'm a singer/actress...and this, my friend, was a dance call.

I have never, ever been to a call that was specifically for dancers. I am a singer who moves. On a dance floor at a club or a bar, I'm a blast. Give me some great pop music and I will go crazy out there. However, despite the fact that I took a lot of dance at AMDA, I still would never qualify as "a dancer". I'm strictly a singer/actress who can pick up some moves if you give me enough time. Ample time. More time than everyone else.

The singer/actor call was on Monday. I'd already picked up a shift at work and wanted desperately to go to that call, but alas, I also need money. So I decided to go to the dance call because at AMDA they always told us to take a chance, and if you have the right attitude, they may still like you.

I got up at 6 AM in prep for this. I rolled out of bed, put on a hat and DRAGGED myself, against my will, all the way to Chelsea Studios. I was exhausted and thought, as I always do when it's too early, of staying in bed and sitting this one out. But this past week or so has been dedicated to The Hustle, for me. I've been working my ass off (7 shifts last week) and still going to early morning auditions on my days off. It's time to be an adult, pull myself up by those bootstraps and, quite simply, fuck shit up.

So anyway, it was an open call, non-equity, so you never can tell how many people (especially girls) are going to be there. And when I got there, I was the first one. That alone is an accomplishment. About 15 minutes later, a guy showed up who was also going for TCP and we made friends. We also started a male list and a female list, so we didn't lose our spots. After we got upstairs, we stayed in the holding room alone. The monitor showed up at about 9:30, and after getting confirmation from her that I could come back later without losing my spot, I went back to Astoria. The female call was not until 2 PM. (Yes, I'm crazy for showing up that early. Crazy like a FOX...anyway, some more girls had shown up by the time I left. Just a few, but they were there.) I prettied myself up, put on dance clothes, grabbed my music book/shoes/a dress (just in case) and trekked all the way back. No time to rest, just time to prepare.

By the time I got back, there were more girls, with more arriving sporadically. In the end there were about 40-50 of us. (MANY less than I thought there would be--but I heard that the singer/actor call was PACKED all day long, so it turned out to be a smart idea to get seen at the dancer call.) And when I saw these girls, the panic started creeping in. And then it very firmly set up camp.

Again, this was my first dance-specific call. And it was so obvious that nearly every other girl in the room was a dancer. (There was ONE that I saw dance later who obviously was at about the same level as me.) All athletically toned, yogic, limber--doing crazy stretches and splits and contortions. And a few of them were just intimidatingly gorgeous. And I thought, for at least a few minutes, about leaving. Pretending I had an emergency. Just getting up and walking out. Why in God's name did I think it was a good idea to come to a dance call? What the hell was I thinking? I was going to get kicked out of the building. Those girls were going to throw pig blood on me and laugh hysterically.

But then it was time to hand in my headshot and resume, and there was no turning back. Granted, I still could have left, but I couldn't bear the thought of wasting my whole day and not getting anything out of it. And my friends and family would have killed me if I didn't try. I would have killed me if I didn't try. So I went in with the rest of the girls.

And it wasn't awful. The dance we learned (on the spot, for those of you who have never done this) was REALLY technical. Arabesque, dégagé, developpe, passé, various foot positions, etc. etc. And all really fast. We learned it, then we split into small groups and went for it, in front of two choreographers and the casting director. And each other. And of course, I was in the last group. Of. Course.

So it was obvious I wasn't a dancer, right? But all the people who were teaching/watching us were so very nice and accepting that I didn't feel that embarrassed. Sure, I was probably the worst one in the room, but you cannot deny my moxie. All day, I thought, "Your spunkiness will get you through this." And it did. The choreographer pointed at me after I finished one of my practice rounds and said, "Good" like she meant it, like she knew I was trying my best even though it wasn 't my thing. I hoped all along that my courage would win her over. And at one point they told a group of four girls that it didn't look like they were having fun--they were all too stone-faced. I spent most of my time smiling at the casting people, hoping they'd notice that I still had a good attitude, even in the midst of my suckage. My cheerfulness was my only hope.

So after the second large group of girls went, they told us to stick around and get our music books out in case they needed to see more from us. In other words, they were making cuts. I had a teeny shred of hope, but I pretty much figured I should pack up my shit and get ready to leave. The casting director said we should line up outside the door to the room we'd just danced in, in the order he called our names. And then the first name out of his mouth was "Vanessa Robinson."

WHAAAAAAAT?!

Before I went in, the director looked at me and winked, then said, "Come on in, darling." How nice was he? So I went in there, belted a song from "Dessa Rose", and wowed them. I know I did. They liked me. At the end of my 16 bars, they were taken aback, if I do say so myself. In a good way. There was just the slightest impressed pause, and then they said, "....okay! Thank you so much for your time." I left the room and the girls outside were like, "You SANG that song! You belted it!" So, even though they don't know me and I had nothing to prove, I still felt like I'd made up for being the least experienced dancer in the room.

All auditions should be like this. Those people put me at ease. They treated each of us respectfully; like real people, not just numbered bodies they were being forced to watch. They were interested in us, and they knew we weren't going to be perfect and it would still be okay. I've always wondered why some directors/monitors/people in charge seem to be on a mission to make performers feel uncomfortable. You're most likely already a little nervous, so why do they want to make it worse? No one can do their best when they already feel like they haven't got a chance. And these people were so positive and supportive and...just a pleasure to perform for.

And when it was over?
I felt so good.

For having gotten up early and powering through my exhaustion. For wanting it enough. For having had the courage to show up. For sticking it out when I wanted so badly to run. For smiling through my embarrassment. For being given a chance to sing, and for being given the voice and spirit that I've got. For making them remember me, no matter what. For being a presence.

This is what it's all about, for me. This is my life's purpose.

xo