I was watching my new favorite show (it’s not new, but it’s new to me, since a friend insisted I check it out. Thank you, Kathi), So You Think You Can Dance. Now, I’m not generally a fan of competition shows like this (I’m more of a The Amazing Race and America’s Next Top Model type gal), I’m not a dancer, and when I have flipped past stuff like American Idol or Dancing with the Stars or anything like that where there are weeks of auditions and a panel of judges who get more airtime than the contestants, I’m just sort of turned off. But Kathi insisted. And she’s smart. So, I gave it a shot.

Holy crap. That’s some good stuff, there.

Okay, so as I was saying, I was watching my new favorite show last week and there’s all this hoopla about making it into the top 20. Watching these performers dancing in their chosen style, I’m inspired and moved to tears several times each episode, it seems. These are artists, using their bodies to tell stories. And they’re all really, really good. But there can only be 20 in the top 20 and that means some fantastic, talented, inspired, hard-working, phenomenal dancers are cut.

Just like with acting. Just like with auditioning. You can be amazing and still not book the role. It happens.

One of my favorite moments from last season (wait. I just started watching. How do I have a favorite moment from last season? Oh, well, Kathi hooked me up with episodes from the previous season, and I’m slowly making my way through those too. Awesome) occurred when a lindy hop dancer had been told she wasn’t going to advance through the audition process to the next level. She’s standing on that stage in front of the microphone, having just danced her heart out, and they’re telling her she’s not making the cut. She’s not arguing. If she’s devastated, she’s not showing it. She’s just breathing, listening, taking it all in, grateful for having had the opportunity.

One of the judges says, “You sure look like you’re having fun, though. I’d love to dance with you any day.” And she, grace-filled and loving life, says, “Come on,” and gestures to the stage. The judge leaps from his seat and joins her on stage, where they begin a lovely, then rousing, dance combo to Stuff Like That There. It was awesome! I was bawling, watching her let him lead her on the dance floor. I’m saying to myself, “She just got cut. She’s out of this competition. But she’s a dancer. And dancers love to dance.”

It inspired me to think about how often we are faced with the opportunity to make a grace-filled choice. Sure, you wanted the part. Sure, it hurts not to get it (and luckily, most of your auditions, as an actor, aren’t being viewed by millions of people, with you standing there when you hear the punchline that you didn’t get cast). But in the end, you’re a storyteller and you love creating. So you keep doing it. Even when you’d like to cry instead.

So, as we’re into the section of the show now where dancers are pushed outside of their comfort zone and taught combinations that are not within their primary style of dance, I’m very intrigued. I’m watching contemporary dancers having to do more structured work. I’m watching tappers have to samba. And while I don’t know enough about dance and dance styles to really see what’s working and what’s not working at a refined level, I can tell when someone is feeling pushed and rising to the occasion vs. when someone is feeling pushed and just can’t make it work.

I can see the violation of the comfort zone. And to some performers, that’s reading all over their faces, in their bodies, in the flow of their steps and arm movements. To other performers, it’s an adventure, a challenge, an opportunity to show us what else is “in there.”

I wonder if actors ever really get pushed like that. I mean, sure, in acting class, you’re going to be given material you’re not familiar with, something that’s outside of what your “slam dunk” stuff might be, but do you feel the pressure of presenting it when you’re in the safe place of an acting class? I spoke with an actor friend of mine while he was helping out as a reader on some recent audition sessions I held and we talked about the anxiety of being in an actual audition situation, compared with the ease of doing a mock audition in a class. We discussed whether there’s ever a way to replicate the feelings and the stress of the audition environment in a class setting, so that actors get really good at working through that anxiety and become better as auditioners.

And when actors are being pushed toward the outside limits of their abilities and preferred space, are they growing from it or just learning where resistance lives? (Not that that’s not something! It is something, for sure!)

Where are you pushed? I’m asking. And when you are pushed, is it helpful to you as a performer? Are you growing from it and learning you are stronger and more talented than you may have thought? Are you finding ways to push yourself outside of class? Are you working with other actors to create things? Are you doing “scary stuff” like networking and making contact with people a tier or two above? And are you handling feedback (good and bad) with grace?

Lemme hear from you. Are you pushing it? How?

Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!

Originally published by Actors Access at http://more.showfax.com/columns/avoice/archives/001102.html. Please support the many wonderful resources provided by the Breakdown Services family. This posting is the author’s personal archive.