The question 'what am I doing here?' was present throughout the whole gruelling morning. From the moment I stepped into Urdang Academy, as I was tying up my Bloch jazz shoes (bought for the occasion), as I warmed up in the registration studio to tunes like 'Hot Stuff'.
It was also there when I stepped into the audition studio, where a Japanese version of Debbie Allen taught us a sequence I hope I never have to repeat in my life, and it was painfully burning when I performed it, almost with my eyes closed (to avoid seeing myself in the mirror), together with two other girls wearing nothing but sequined bras and tights (and more makeup than a drag queen would ever let herself be seen wearing).
Unsurprisingly my number wasn't called out, and out of the thirty-odd dancers in the room only three got through, and just like that, in less than twenty minutes, my chance to join the dancers in Japan's Universal Studios' theme park was gone.
Later on I figured out the answer, as I had a few hours to kill in London before my train was due. Whilst performing anything similar to what we were taught was close to a nightmare for me, this audition meant two very important things. One, a dance job, which although not ideal was a job anyway, and two, the chance to travel to the other side of the world, which way back had been (and still is) one of the things that dance meant for me.
Now, a few days away from starting my third year, I am reconsidering what my professional expectations are and, after a look around, a couple of auditions and conversations with graduates, I realize that the cafetiere has long been steaming and that if we have been avoiding the smell of coffee for this long we've no excuse now to pretend it isn't there.
The company dream is, for most of us, just that, a dream. The notion that fresh out of third year (or even while studying it) you will be picked up by one of the greats, be offered a contract, and will tour the world is becoming a very distant reality.
Not an impossible one, of course, and the Royal Ballet School has kindly let us know how well they've done this academic year contract-wise, which is inspiring in a way, but we also know that they breed a different kind of human body over at Covent Garden and White Lodge. I can't give figures for graduate contracts at NSCD because I don't know them, but if what I hear is true, they are, frighteningly enough, very low.
I do not think that this is necessarily a reflection on the school you train at- I want to blame it on the troubled times we're living in- but what I do think is that considering what kind of jobs are actually out there for us, institutions should reconsider how they are preparing their students, and students should be proactive and prepare themselves for a future in which it is very unlikely that season after season you'll be pampered by the luxuries and commodities of a full-time contract.
'When you work with a company...' is how, in my experience, many teachers begin their advice. Rarely do you, in the middle of technique class, hear 'when you work freelance' or 'when you're skint and have to do class in your living room' or something like that- which today is actually what I think we should be preparing ourselves for.
Granted, the company is something that many hope to achieve, so we shouldn't forget it altogther, and the idea of it motivates many student dancers. I worry that this may become the only possibly route they see in dance, and more than once I've heard things like 'if I don't get into a company staright after graduating I'm going to become a fire fighter.' And it's comforting to know there won't be any major fire catastrophes with the massive influx of graduate dancers into the fire brigade.
I am a fierce defender of technique and its training but have to admit that developpés are not taking us as far these days. Get creative, because there aren't that many opportunities out there, or many that will keep you well fed, so you'll have to create them for yourself.
If you want to dance, find a way to do it, and don't expect someone to set it up for you. If nobody wants you in their piece, create your own. And forget phrases like 'oh, I'm not a creative dancer, I'm good at technique', because if you lift a rock you'll find hundreds of technical dancers (many of them hailing from places like RBS, Paris Opera and Amsterdam, whose floor technique might be flimsy, but who look physically amazing for the most part; and good lines, in whichever context, are always a plus).
Learn to read and write, in case you've ever uttered the ignominous words 'I became a dancer because I couldn't read'. Remember those tedious hours of contextual study in the beginning of your degree? Remember those hours of essay-writing and researching? Those marks you got taken off for the several spelling mistakes? Funding applications are not necessarily fun, they involve careful structuring and research, and any problems with grammar or spelling don't do much in your favour. So as well as pumping it up at the gym after college, why not pick up a magazine or a book- write a review, keep a journal- because the days when you could 'just dance' are far gone.
Unlike models, or actors, we contemporary dancers don't tend to have agents to do our promotioning, so it'll be you that has to sell yourself, and although you may do so brilliantly through interpretative dance, the spoken (or written) word is how it actually gets done.
If you like to keep to yourself, start making friends. And the best place is while still at college, because it may happen that one of your peers did work during contextual studies and succesfully applied for funding and might offer you a job.
There is a lot more that I'm guessing could be said, and I owe this blog a massive disclaimer as I'm not really out there in the professional world and only speak from what I gather.
It is with these realistic thoughts that I enter my final year and although my Japanese experience was somewhat crushing, I'm sure that there is something to the challenge that comes with fighting your way into dance on your own, and I'm sure there's a pride that comes with getting to the other side of the world with a business card that says 'freelance'.
