Setting the barre

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/01/2024 (967 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Welcome to Jen Tries, a semi-regular series in which Free Press columnist Jen Zoratti tries something new and reports back. In this instalment, Jen Tries … auditioning for the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School Professional Division.

 

For this series, I have shot a gun. I have thrown an axe. I have hung upside down. I’ve even flown a glider plane.

But this, by far, was the most nerve-wracking Jen Tries yet.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and despite being 38 years old, which is typically “thinking about retirement” age in ballerina years, I am auditioning for the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School’s renowned Professional Division.

For more than 50 years, the Professional Division has been the place where the careers of many dancers, including generations of RWB company dancers, begin. Between 75 and 81 per cent of the company, and more than 50 per cent of the school’s artistic faculty, are composed of alumni.

I’m doing a shorter version of the same audition hopefuls will do Jan. 26 when aspiring local ballet dancers currently in academic grades 5 to 12, as well as post-secondary students, are invited to the RWB’s studios at 380 Graham Ave. to try out for a coveted spot in one of the Professional Division’s three full-time streams: the Ballet Academic Program, the post-secondary Anna McCowan Johnson Aspirant Program, and the Teacher Training Program.

I often write about ballet and I know a lot about ballet, but I’m not a dancer nor did I grow up dancing. Here is the extent of my balletic training: a few weeks of lessons in 1989 when I was four. I also think I used a Groupon for a barre class once.

So yes, I am nervous.

When I arrive at RWB’s Graham Avenue studios, I sign in and receive my audition number — No. 52 — which I pin to my shirt.

Today, I’m auditioning with 15-year-old Kaylee Butler (No. 51) and 14-year-old Avery Carter (No. 53). They have more than a slight advantage on me: they are already students in the Professional Division.

I pump them for advice for auditioning dancers. “Be prepared, but don’t don’t over prepare, because then you’ll get more stressed,” Carter says. “Just relax. I mean, our teachers always say, ‘What’s the worst that can happen? You fall on the floor, but you get back up.’”

“Have fun and enjoy it,” Butler adds. “If you have a passion for it then it’ll show when you dance and I feel like that’s what they’re really looking for.”

We head into a studio to do a few warm-up stretches and “roll out our feet,” which is already so painful and we haven’t even done anything yet.

Then we are called into our audition.

We line up in front of the adjudication panel, which is composed of three members of the artistic faculty: Alexander Gamayunov, Leonid Khrapunsky and Kendra Woo. Kelly Bale, vice principal of the Professional Division, will be leading our audition. I notice that Butler and Carter are standing with their feet turned out, their hands behind their backs, posture perfect. I’m standing like I’m waiting for a bus, so I quickly assume the same position.

Company artists Emilie Lewis and Michel Lavoie are also at the front of the room. They’ll be hosting Friday’s audition and offering themselves up for a Q&A at which students can ask them questions about their careers. (RWB company artist Katie Bonnell will also host a master class, open to dancers from academic grades 5 to 7.)

Their careers began with an audition just like (OK, sort of like) this one. They welcome us and offer reassurance. My nervousness starts to ease. Auditions are run like a group ballet class by design; it’s hard to let your passion shine through if you’re a jangle of nerves.

“When we say we want them to just have fun, it’s because we really want them to relax and show what they naturally can do,” Bale tells me later. “It’s like diamonds in the rough sometimes. Like, oh my gosh, they can’t do that at all yet, but look at them.”

Indeed, the adjudicators are not looking for amazing dancers. They are looking for students who have the potential to become amazing dancers.

“We’re looking to see what they could grow into one day,” Woo says afterwards. “We’re looking for technical things, perhaps turnout, how they can stretch their feet, things like that. But those are all things that can be worked on in terms of strength. So mostly, especially when they’re coming in quite young, we’re looking to see how much they enjoy it.”

And sure enough, that is the first instruction from Bale in the audition. “Have fun. Smile.” Ok, I think. This is OK.

Then she says, “We’ll start with travelling.” Oh … no. I am — and stay with me here — completely unprepared for the amount of actual ballet we end up doing. I thought they might go easy on me.

They do not go easy on me.

We do forwards and backwards travelling, which also includes exiting the “stage,” barre work and jumps. I struggle to keep up with 51 and 53 and, at one point, almost knock one of them over. I’m not going to be cast in Swan Lake any time soon.

You have to think about a lot of things in ballet. Your arm lines, your footwork, your core, your posture and, crucially, what your face is doing. I know I’m too in my head. I’m also sweating. Why I wore wool socks to this thing will be an enduring mystery of our time.

At the barre, I finally relax into the music, which is being performed live by principal pianist Donna Laube. We gracefully move through first through fifth positions. My knee audibly pops when I sink into a grand plie. I’m actively resisting the urge to “ooof” out loud as we rise back up.

But while I may not have ballet training, I find that both the yoga I do weekly and the piano lessons I took every Wednesday night from the age of five to 18 are serving me in different ways. My balance is pretty good; so is my musicality.

Any body hang ups I came into the studio with disappear. When you’re moving your body in a beautiful way, you feel beautiful.

The audition ends. Bale and the adjudicators thank you for auditioning and let you know that you’ll be informed via email if your audition was successful or not. And then we are sent on our way.

They do not tell you how you did (!).

As a real Lisa Simpson type — “Grade me! Look at me! Evaluate and rank me!” — whose work is also edited every day, this absolutely killed me. But this is a real-deal audition, and they would still be working on last year’s batch if they offered notes to every student.

Between 600 and 800 would-be Professional Division students try out every year during the RWB School’s audition tour, which this year stopped in 12 Canadian cities, as well as Minneapolis. Students can also try out virtually.

Most auditionees, however, don’t get to interview a member of the adjudicating panel afterwards, so I press Woo about my performance.

“From my perspective, you’re in,” she says (kindly).

From my perspective, I think I’ll continue to appreciate the art form from the audience. Then again, the RWB School does offer adult classes in its Recreational Division…

jen.zoratti@winnipegfreepress.com