A Dancers Lament

“Dance is the only art of which we ourselves are the stuff of which it is made.”  ~Ted Shawn, Time, 25 July 1955

Someone once said that it takes about 10 years to make a good dancer.  I mentioned before that I was a good dancer right? Well, I would even venture to say I was/am a great dancer. Now, I am what I would call a realist. I am the first to tell you the absolute truth, about me or anything else. There are many things in this world that I am not good at. The list is long and at times depressing, but dancing is not one of them. I was one of those people that dancing just came to naturally. That’s not to say I didn’t train hard. I worked my butt off, but I never had to  worry about flexibility or arched feet. That all came naturally, but I believe that to be a really good dancer you have to be a really good actor as well.  Anyone with enough training can get on stage and dance proficiently. A triple pirouette here, stick your leg up there and voila, your a “dancer”. But to be an artist in your craft you have to feel something and be able to convey that to your audience. Mikhail Baryshnikov is an amazing dancer, but it was his ability to bring you to tears without ever saying a word that made him exceptional. I loved getting on stage and becoming another character. Using my body to tell a story. That’s why I  think dancers can make the best actors. Because we’ve learned to express ourselves from the inside out without saying a word.
So, that brings me to my Lament. Musical Theater. I’ve stated that to be a good/great dancer you need to be a great actor as well, so after honing my acting skills at UCLA  I was ready to move to New York to be a dancer/actor on Broadway! And that’s where I hit my first road block. Singing. So not only do I need to beat out all the other dancers and actors but now I gotta sing while I do it??

My beef  with musical theater is this; if you are only an actor, meaning you probably started doing school plays in high school and thought it would be fun to try this “acting thing” out, they (the casting people) act like it’s just fantastic if you can carry a tune in a bucket. IF you can do the box step on top of that, your the second coming of Christ, and voila, your the Co-star in the next dramatic musical and up for a supporting actor Tony.

Now, if your a real “singer”, meaning you probably have done school choir and maybe started some real voice lessons in High school, they (casting) automatically assume that you can act. But again, if you know how to shuffle ball change, it brings them to tears, and voila, your up for Best Actor in a Musical.
But if your a dancer, meaning you’ve been training since you were 5 to 10 years old on average, anywhere from 1 to 6 hours a day, 6 days a week, they (casting) will ask you to show Tap, Ballet and Jazz. Oh, and can you do a tumbling run? No? Pity. Then they’d like to hear you sing, an up tempo and ballad. Only “legit” music please. What’s that? You’d like me to do a four part harmony as well? While dancing my butt off, trying to avoid set pieces while fake smoke is blowing in and I can’t see my partner who’s about to hoist me over his head?  Oh, and recite a monologue and understudy 4 other parts? Sure, no problem. And what award am I up for? Oh, that’s right, there isn’t one for us.
I have “moved up” in my years of performing from Chorus girl to doing Leads these days, and I can tell you that I never worked harder than when I was a chorus girl, and I never got less praise. Gypsy’s, as we’re called, are the hardest working people on Broadway, and treated with the least respect. We’re asked to do everything, and do it well, and do it while standing behind everyone else. Why do we put up with it?!! Because we love it. That is the achilles heel of being a dancer. We will put up with almost anything if it means we get to go out on stage and do what we love.
It’s a hard, short life. Most dancers careers don’t even last into their 30’s. And yet none of this will deter us. Dancing is part of our souls. I still walk turned out. I’m caught dancing in the aisles of the super market while pushing my kids in the cart. I can be seen rocking out in my minivan while driving down Harbor Blvd.
I couldn’t stop being a dancer if I tried….. not that I ever will.

The Road to Broadway

Juliet as "Cassie"

 

Success

“Don’t aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally. “
David Frost

I AM a success!! I have to remind myself of that sometimes. When I’m doing the umpteenth load of laundry or I’m picking up the boys toys yet again, I think, “I’ve been on Broadway damn it!!” Actually, I’m quite happy with my life and where I’m at. Awesome husband, two amazing kids. But sometimes my days in New York seem like a life time away. When I’m singing through the house and my kids yell, “MOM! Can you please be quiet?” I just want to yell, “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM??”
Ok, so I’m not famous by most standards, but success can be measured in many ways. Ever since High School my dream was to be on Broadway. I achieved that when I was 26. How many people can say that? You want to know something else? Francis Ford Coppola was not my God father. I had zippo connections in the business. I knew exactly one person when I moved to New York, I had no job, no money and most impressive of all I never had an agent the entire 9 years I lived there. I did 2 Broadway shows, 3 national tours, and loads of regional and international shows. I’ve said things like, “Hey Stro, how are you?” As in Susan Stroman who’s hired me on 5 different occasions. Name dropper? Me? You betcha!
The point is I did it. Me. Little ol’ Juliet Fischer. I went to a performing arts high school in San Diego, but I was by no means the most talented kid in the school. I had areas of greatness. I’ve always been a kick ass dancer. But if you took a pole I doubt many people would have said, “She’s the one who’s gonna make it to Broadway!” But the point is, I did. It wasn’t easy. There were many times I had no idea how I was going to pay the rent, and there was a LOT of rejection involved. But in the end, I consider myself a success. At least by my standards. Pull up a chair and I’ll tell you all about my personal road to Broadway. But hang on tight, it’s a bumpy ride!