Everyone was happy and excited for Bailey Hanks, winner of MTV’s Legally Blonde reality competition. She beat out the other legal blondes and landed her leading role, which she premiered last Wednesday. The other contestants went home, heads hung low, bitter and defeated, right?

Well, not so much.

Surprise! You’ve Got Contracts!

As it turned out, the producers had jobs in mind for all four of the top contestants in the show.

• Rhiannon Hansen will play Margot, Elle’s best friend, in the touring company of Legally Blonde
• Autumn Hurlbert will join the Broadway cast as Elle’s understudy
• Lauren Zakrin will not only join the touring company in the ensemble but also act as a second understudy for the Broadway show.

So all four top contestants won contracts, and all four seem to be pretty happy about it. “I couldn’t be at a better place; this is better for me now and this is where I’m supposed to be,” Rhiannon told the Deseret News.

I think this is a piece of brilliance on the part of the producers, and could change the way people get cast in these shows. They came out of this with (I’m presuming) a profit from the MTV show, four solid leads for their main star, and everybody’s happy.

Could this be the end of the Cattle Call?

Post from: Fame or Famine

I feel that – it warms my heart, actually. At age 18 I started on what I thought was going to be a career in musical theatre, but got a bit sidetracked, and didn’t end up getting my degree in dance until the venerable age of 29. Ten years later, I have taught ballet to three year olds and the rumba to 70 year olds, worked with world-class dancers like Heidi Latsky, presented before World Dance Symposiums, and danced on stage to “Let’s Get Physical” with Foxy Veronica’s Peach Pies at a goth club.

Because in the end it’s not about the movements or the technique, Milia. It’s about your movement, your technique, and your body moving. You want to dance? Dance, then. If you make the movement authentic, it will be good.

Pina Bausch and Tanztheatre Wuppertal

I’m having trouble finding the documented evidence, so this is anecdotal, but when I was at one point doubting my ability to dance when compared with the 18 and 19 year olds I was training with, my mentor Douglas Rosenberg told me about Pina Bausch. Aside from being a fantastic dancer and choreographer herself, he told me that at certain points in her career she’d refused to have any dancers younger than…oh, 35 or 40, I don’t remember which…in her company. They hadn’t lived enough life to put the meaning that she wanted into the movements.

Now, this may be an unfair comparison – many young dancers are exquisitely expressive, and age is no virtue – but it has served as inspiration to me as my movements change with age. The legs do not lift me as high, but the intention behind the leap has more depth now than it did before. And in the end, there is always a new Spring in my step.

Post from: Fame or Famine

But since this isn’t my usual audience, I can make a confession here that I wouldn’t make there. I’m actually very shy. Few people believe me, even among my closest friends, but I identify as an introvert. I’m an introvert who can address an audience of 20,000 people every week, speak with spontaneous panache at a convention, and talk your ear off at a party. This is not a paradox. Shaking a stranger’s hand, I’m simultaneously relaxed and confident, and anxious enough to chew my own arm off to get away. The trick I’ve learned is simply faking it well; often well enough to forget that I’m faking it myself. And how did I learn to fake it?

Improv comedy.

I think everybody should learn to do improv. Especially the people who know with total certainty that they could never do improv. I had my formative experience with it in Georgia Tech’s theater group, DramaTech. We started with a few weekends’ worth of workshops, which became a performing troupe, the Let’s Try This Players — they’re still around 15 years later. Tech’s an engineering school; I’m not the only geeky introvert this troupe converted to a social mayfly.

The thing about improv is that it always looks much harder than it is. In truth, the hardest part of it is simply letting go of the belief that it should be hard. Once you learn to allow it to be easy, to let it flow, it’s easier to keep it going than to turn it off.

I learned two basic principles in improv that can be applied to any social situation anywhere. Together they’re enough of a social toolbox to defuse any social fear. They are spontaneity and acceptance.

Spontaneity simply means living in the moment. The surest way to freeze on stage in improv is to spend time planning your next line. You’re in a dynamic environment, the other people are constantly changing the context, and by the time you get to your clever line it simply isn’t relevant anymore. You can’t plan the scene, just as you can’t plan good conversations. Other people are too independent. The only thing you can do is open your mouth at the right time, and trust that whatever comes out will be the right thing. If you’re truly living in the moment, fully aware of your context, and confident enough, it will be. And when it is, that builds your confidence and awareness. It’s a self-reinforcing feedback loop once it gets started.

Acceptance was our most unbreakable rule in improv: never say no. “No” kills the scene. Failure to collaborate kills. If someone asks you to hold steady the invisible ladder they’re climbing and you say “No,” there’s nowhere to go from there. It’s not funny and there’s no plot that comes out of “No.” The correct answer is “Yes, and…” Accept and validate the point of view that the people around you are building — and then add to it with your own ideas. The same is true in any group dynamic. You have the power to change anything around you, but only if you accept the power of everyone else to do the same. This doesn’t mean having no boundaries; but if you’re doing improv (or life) and people are constantly pushing your limits and making you say “No,” you’re probably on the wrong stage.

These ideas are not unique to improv, and I know I’m not the first person to talk about socializing effectively with them. You can read the same stuff in How to Win Friends and Influence People. But improv is where it sunk in for me. Making it funny, having fun, is how I fully absorbed it. If you ever find yourself in my shoes, think about improv yourself. It’s worth a try. (And then can I please have
them back? I like those shoes.)
–
Have Fun,
Steve Eley (sfeley@gmail.com)
ESCAPE POD - The Science Fiction Podcast Magazine
http://www.escapepod.org

Post from: Fame or Famine

Adapt & Overcome

In spite of being bound to a wheelchair, Siua succeeded in his dream of creating a dance company. He drew from his University experience to apply the following precepts:

• appreciate art on its own merit
• study arts from a critical standpoint
• articulate arts in practical and theory
• separate emotion from the intellectual aspects of arts

Joined by his sister, middle eastern drummer Kuinivia McCloud, the company is profiled by the London Fale here.

This is not that company, but it’s a glimpse of the traditional Tongan dance.

Post from: Fame or Famine

So You Thought You Could Dance?

Like me, the TV Grapevine had a personal connection to someone who auditioned for the show. Like me, that person didn’t make it past the preliminary stages – but in their case, she was able to stay the extra day to see the “individual round.”

Yes, that’s right. That “individual round” is not the first time the judges see the dancers. Nigel Lythgoe, Mary Murphy, and whoever is with them saw all of them in a group cattle call audition the day before . They specifically invite back the dancers they want to see in the individual shows.

Think about that. All the dancers that you see that are so awful, that the judges berate for wasting their time – they were specifically invited back. Why? Not because, as they thought, they had a chance. No, it’s for entertainment value, for ratings, and that’s kind of a shabby way to treat people who want to dance.

Legally Blonde: the Search for Elle

Tonight at 10 MTV debuts a reality show (produced by the same people that brought you The Biggest Loser) to find the new lead for Legally Blonde: The Musical. This did not fill me with much anticipation, after the way they did Grease: You’re the One. However, Loser was pretty well thought out, and there seems to be a couple of other glimmers of hope.

The judges have some serious cred: musical auteur Heather Hach, casting director Bernard Telsey, Paul Canaan (veteran of the Broadway Musical and choreographer Jerry Mitchell. Of course, Grease also seemed to have good judges and…well, you saw how that went.

But there are apparently a lot of musical numbers with members of the actual Broadway cast, a “boot camp” to whip the contestants into shape, Haylie Duff provides some mentorship and guidance, and besides, it’s already been done – all eight episodes have been shot and the new Elle will be joining the cast on Broadway in October.

So let’s see if MTV can do it better than NBC. I’ll give it a grudging chance.

image courtesy of Newscom

Post from: Fame or Famine

Alexei Ratmansky

In the New York Times Chip Brown has written a piece about the very young artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet, Alexei Ratmansky. At 39 he has become “one of the most sought after choreographers in the world.” Instead of plotting his escape from totalitarianism, the article describes how he calmly waits for visa approval in order to bring his style to America.

The piece is in-depth, not only describing his creative process but also the environment that he lives in – like some other brave performers, the new Russia is sometimes a quite tumultuous place to be an artist.

Carlos Acosta

For those looking for more thorough summer reading, one of the greats of the ballet world has written a memoir that has movie written all over it. Carlos Acosta is a principal dancer with the Royal Ballet – and like other greats such as Nureyev, he was born under a communist regime: Cuba.

The story of his fantastic rise from street urchin breakdancing to Michael Jackson bootlegs all the way to premiere ballerino makes for fascinating (if at times hyperbolic) reading, according to the New York Times book review. Still, it might be just the thing for those of us recovering from the end of Dancing with the Stars…

images courtesy of Newscom

Post from: Fame or Famine

Those Who Can, Teach

One of the performers there is Arielle, a teacher at the Madison Multicultural Dance Center with Mona N’wal and others. Though very young, Arielle’s been dancing since she was fourteen, and that leads to quite a bit of experience as well as talent.

That evening she did a three-part set, starting with two traditional songs and then a blended hip-hop/bellydance routine of her own choreography. The ability of her body to isolate and move independently of attached parts was incredible, and though I found out later that most of the moves were “improvisography” she never seemed to miss a beat.

When I learned that she’d also competed in the local So You Think You Can Dance competition, I cornered her after the set for an interview. What I learned was that for an Emmy-award winning show, it’s a pretty down-to-earth process.

How did you hear about the competition?

Word of mouth, actually. Through the local dance community. And only the day before the auditions, actually. The prize was a trip for two to Vegas.

Who would you have taken to Vegas with you?

(small smile) Bill. Definitely Bill. (referring to a young man who’d also been at the dinner).

Tell me about the auditions.

They happened on Wednesday, and you got one minute. One minute, that’s all, which is kind of hard to do when you’re used to 15 minute sets. I decided to do a piece to “Belladi Ya Wad”, which is what we affectionately call our “wiggly songs.”

Were you nervous?

Not after the auditions. (she shook her head and made a face). There were…well, let’s just say I wasn’t worried after I saw the other dancers. They brought it down to twelve dancers, of various styles – lyrical jazz, ballet, hip hop…

What criteria were they judging on?

I’ve no idea. (she laughs) but they sure weren’t familiar with belly dance!

Actually, they did say, they were looking ofr musicality, technique, crowd reaction…

How was that?

Honestly, not that good. It was a mixed crowed of older and younger people, but it was your typical Wisconsin kind of crowd…

Who were the judges?

There were two, one the owner of a local dance studio, and the other one (she grins) was Hok, from the show!

How do you think you did?

(shrug) Well…I don’t think I won. But I did get a really good contact with the best hip hop dancer there, so it was worthwhile. And I’m not surprised – the general American populace doesn’t really get belly dancing. Next time, I’ll put in more hip hop.

So there’ll be a next time?

Definitely! But first I have to get ready for the Midwest Bellydance Challenge…

Thanks for your time!

Always a pleasure…

Arielle actually came in second in the competition – losing to the hip hop dancer she mentioned. So she didn’t get to go on to Vegas and get a chance to continue in the process to get in the show – not this year, anyway. She took it as a learning experience, though, and plans on competing more every chance she gets.

Image used by permission from Arielle

Post from: Fame or Famine

And the star of the musical Chicago flew across the world to be with her. Now that’s a mother’s day present. On the other hand, she does sort of owe it all to Mom: “I decided to take her to dancing lessons because she was so shy,” says Natalie Ball, the new octagenarian.

It paid off. Wright has been in touring productions of Chicago in the U.K., Europe, and in the stage production in South Africa. She’s been on stage with Melanie Griffith and Brooke Shields. Now she’s preparing to move to America, and I can’t wait to see what comes next.

Most of all, though, I’m touched that she’s that dutiful a daughter. Now, to forward this article to all my kids…knew I shoulda made them stick with their dance lessons…

Post from: Fame or Famine

A large part of that piece dealt with John Henry’s experiences as a combat soldier in Vietnam. He integrated those experiences into the piece, combining video of combat footage with live onstage dancing. You can see several videos of the stage performance here; as the piece toured, however, the performance was required to change to accommodate John Henry’s declining health as AIDS took his body.

While they knew that the live performance piece would die along with John Henry, Rosenberg and Bromberg wanted his legacy to live on, and therefore began working on a documentary (also titled Singing Myself a Lullaby) that would talk about the creation of the stage piece and the issues as he prepared himself for death.

Here’s the kicker: after he died, in the process of doing research the documentarians discovered that John Henry had never actually served in Vietnam. All of his stories, his richly evocative dancing, the tremendous emotion he engendered in others as they heard his tale and watched the videos with the movement – all of it was a lie.

At the same time…there is something to be said about the fact taht when one touches that many people, when such a powerful work is created, it takes on its own kind of truth. And that ends up being the subject of the documentary, which has excerpts here and can be purchased here.

I’m more interested in the fact that John Henry found it necessary to take on the trappings of his generations’ biggest tragedy. He didn’t pretend to be a fireman or a doctor or a speedboat racer. No, he found something in the miasma of war that seemed necessary to him as he performed in the final days of his life. He’s not around to ask if he’d convinced himself of what happened. Isn’t it interesting, though, that out of all the common experiences that our culture shares, we keep coming back to war as the defining factor? Even me – I spent two years as a Marine, twenty as a father, ten as a dancer – yet when I talk about my life, it’s the Marine that people latch on, assuming that it changed me and formed me more than anything else.

And the thing is, I can’t really argue that. I didn’t even serve in combat, but every day I think about something I did in the Marines, and as recently as six years ago I was walking out of a grocery store as a colonel in uniform was walking in, and my hand was halfway up in salute before I caught myself. Perhaps because it’s such a movement-based discipline, it resonates with dancers, who also find things burned into their bodies as they perform.

Whatever the reason, while not the truth he was telling, John Henry’s story tells a deeper truth about us all, I believe.

images used courtesy of Dziga Vertov Performance Group

Post from: Fame or Famine

“Embrace what frightens you. Get some new experiences.”
– Adam Carolla, Dancing with the Stars

Over the weekend I’ve been in Fort Lauderdale as part of a performing arts  seminar. Part of it was myself and others doing some Japanese-based performance art, something like a cross between butoh and kabuki and a post-modern aesthetic. There were other groups there, but if can say so, ours was the most planned of the events.

It  was an interesting experience, because my friends and I came to this conference from several different states, and spent a few hours in a hotel room Thursday night planning out cues, music, transitions, and the acts. We actually only got one rehearsal, moments before the house opened, and it didn’t matter. We blew the audience away – it was a small seminar, about 350 people, and they didn’t expect theatre. They expected a minor demonstration of, say, Kabuki costume technique, or perhaps butoh suspension performance.

They got an MC. They got comedy. They got a story arc. They got drama. They got costume changes, careful attention to music, and for the next two days people talked about it. I daresay they’ll continue to talk about it after they leave to go back to their homes.

On the one hand, part of it  is due to the professionalism of the performers, in particular the Director, Lee Harrington. But honestly, we were all professionals, and what really made the difference was the seriousness with which we took the small performance. It didn’t matter that the audience was small; it didn’t matter that the admission was only $5. We took the time and the care to do the show the right way, and I think that it was done as much for each other and ourselves as anyone else. Afterwards, as we all went out for ice cream, there was a measure of camaraderie that is rare in any setting, but which normally takes weeks and months of rehearsal to instill in a cast.

Somehow we managed to get it in just a couple of hours of planning, rehearsal and performance.  Taking that time made all the difference between just another conference demonstration and what was undeniably a work of art.

Post from: Fame or Famine