Dance Audition Quotes

I feel his arm Lightly Over me. He takes one of my outstretched hands. Draws it beneath my stomach. "One more time..." This is not sex, Not friendship. Something Strange Special In the stillness of his breath, The waterlike way he moves. He is making a dance. We are making a dance.

It is strange to hear my words Read back to me. I don't think I wrote them To have them ever leave the page. I think I only write What happens across my brain When my feet are too weary To dance anymore.

When you go to auditions and you fail to prepare, prepare to fail.' -Paula Abdul

I wish I could concentrate on dancing Instead of spending so much time pretending I am still in junior high But with Rem, I want to be sixteen Or, like Alice in Wonderland, Sometimes smaller, Sometimes bigger still.

When Archibald and Maggie met in that audition line, they had no idea what they were at the beginning of. They didn’t know that their love of dancing would make a place for others to love it too. Or that their love would branch out into the world and make children and then grandchildren. Or that their love would lead to mine. Maybe the whole point of love is to make more of itself.

Dare I tell them that since I came here to dance I have been giving pieces of my body away To ridiculous diets, To repeated injuries, To Remington? And that maybe I think With each bit of my body I lose a little piece of my soul

I know. You’re right. I’m sorry. Turns out getting tackled, being snatched nearly bald, auditioning for a pole dancing job, and then throwing up on your old Sunday School teacher makes you cranky.” I grinned. “I think you’re entitled. Not to mention you lost not one, but two jobs today.” She snorted. “I’m really on a roll.

Tell me a story and let's laugh like it's the only think keeping us alive. Play a song and give the stereo permission to use its outside voice. Let's sing loudly, offbeat and out of tune. Let the world know we don't care how it sounds because the only key we need is already in the ignition. Let the sky turn the windshield into a stage. Watch it dance like he scenery is auditioning to be part of our story. Let's just go. Drive until our troubles phantom in the rearview mirror and we forget the exist, at least for a moment.

I was not able to sleep that night. To be honest, I didn’t even try. I stood in front of my living room window, staring out at the bright lights of New York City. I don’t know how long I stood there; in fact, I didn’t see the millions of multicolored lights or the never-ending streams of headlights and taillights on the busy streets below. Instead, I saw, in my mind’s eye, the crowded high school classrooms and halls where my friends and I had shared triumphs and tragedies, where the ghosts of our past still reside. Images flickered in my mind. I saw the faces of teachers and fellow students I hadn’t seen in years. I heard snatches of songs I had rehearsed in third period chorus. I saw the library where I had spent long hours studying after school. Most of all, I saw Marty. Marty as a shy sophomore, auditioning for Mrs. Quincy, the school choir director. Marty singing her first solo at the 1981 Christmas concert. Marty at the 1982 Homecoming Dance, looking radiant after being selected as Junior Princess. Marty sitting alone in the chorus practice room on the last day of our senior year. I stared long and hard at those sepia-colored memories. And as my mind carried me back to the place I had sworn I’d never return to, I remembered.

When Surkov finds out about the Night Wolves he is delighted. The country needs new patriotic stars, the great Kremlin reality show is open for auditions, and the Night Wolves are just the type that’s needed, helping the Kremlin rewrite the narrative of protesters from political injustice and corruption to one of Holy Russia versus Foreign Devils, deflecting the conversation from the economic slide and how the rate of bribes that bureaucrats demand has shot up from 15 percent to 50 percent of any deal. They will receive Kremlin support for their annual bike show and rock concert in Crimea, the one-time jewel in the Tsarist Empire that ended up as part of Ukraine during Soviet times, and where the Night Wolves use their massive shows to call for retaking the peninsula from Ukraine and restoring the lands of Greater Russia; posing with the President in photo ops in which he wears Ray-Bans and leathers and rides a three-wheel Harley (he can’t quite handle a two-wheeler); playing mega-concerts to 250,000 cheering fans celebrating the victory at Stalingrad in World War II and the eternal Holy War Russia is destined to fight against the West, with Cirque du Soleil–like trapeze acts, Spielberg-scale battle reenactments, religious icons, and holy ecstasies—in the middle of which come speeches from Stalin, read aloud to the 250,000 and announcing the holiness of the Soviet warrior—after which come more dancing girls and then the Night Wolves’ anthem, “Slavic Skies”: We are being attacked by the yoke of the infidels: But the sky of the Slavs boils in our veins . . . Russian speech rings like chain-mail in the ears of the foreigners, And the white host rises from the coppice to the stars.

But before it came to that, the show needed a quizmaster, an adult who, like Clifton Fadiman on Information, Please, gave it exactly the right edge. This chair was as vital to the show’s success as were the young panelists. A pair of college professors auditioned: they were too impressed with themselves, giving the kids no time to talk. A candidate from the lecture circuit gave away half the answers. Among the 20-odd people who auditioned was Joe Kelly, a thirdgrade dropout, seasoned vaudevillian, and host of the hayseed music show The National Barn Dance. “His height of intellectual polish before The Quiz Kids was to ring a cowbell and chortle, ‘I’m teakettled pink to be here,’” wrote John Lear in the Saturday Evening Post. Kelly was far from dumb: he had finished third grade a year ahead of schedule but at age 8 had gone into show business.

that everyone else has probably completely forgotten the incident, but I think it’s going to take quite a while for me to get over it. For some reason though, I suspect that one particular girl in our class had something to do with it all. Call it gut instinct or intuition, but I have a sneaking suspicion that somehow she was involved. Thinking back before that doomed day, life had been pretty good. My best friend, Millie and I had auditioned for the school musical and we were both selected for major roles. Being in grade seven gave us an advantage over the younger kids, that and of course the fact that we were both dancers. The best part was that we’d also been asked to choreograph sections of the performance and this was a huge honor. Miss Sheldon, the performing arts teacher who was in charge of the production, had given us the responsibility of coming up with some routines and teaching the other kids the dance moves they needed to learn. We were so excited about this, especially because we’d been left in charge. Miss Sheldon is the coolest teacher ever!

deliberate practice” to describe this style of serious study, defining it formally as an “activity designed, typically by a teacher, for the sole purpose of effectively improving specific aspects of an individual’s performance.”4 As hundreds of follow-up studies have since shown, deliberate practice provides the key to excellence in a diverse array of fields, among which are chess, medicine, auditing, computer programming, bridge, physics, sports, typing, juggling, dance, and music.

Mornini, a plucky entrepreneur and self-described “eternal optimist,” likened periodic accounting to “watching a person stand up and dance in front of a strobe light. You know they’re dancing, but you can’t quite figure out what’s going on. And it looks interesting, but it’s hard to figure out all the steps in between.”66 Periodic accounting gives a snapshot. Audit is, by definition, a backward-looking process. Creating a complete picture of a company’s financial health by looking at periodic financial statements is like turning a hamburger into a cow.

You drugged me. You tried to ruin my audition. And you sent a video of the whole thing to my mother?! We both know I can’t prove it, but you can’t tell me you think I’m stupid enough to do this. For all I know, I’ll go along with it and then you’ll tell the execs that I drugged you and forced you to dance my part. So just . . . leave me alone.

My grandfather said the sfumato described a psychological and spiritual transition between states of being. This transition was infinite and that’s why we, living in the finite, didn’t understand it. Some called it the Void. But that wasn’t sfumato. We chased the Smoky Dragon. We rode the dragon. We were the dragon. Finite time was our dance audition. Eternity was opening night.

One boy named Alex has been dancing pretty much his entire life and was probably the best dancer in the whole school. When he was younger, he said the other kids bullied him and called him a girl, as well as a heap of horrible names he really didn’t want to mention. But I could see that most kids had since developed considerable respect for Alex. Those who were still unaware of his talents were in for a big surprise. Hip-hop was his specialty, and he was very cool to watch. I kept telling him that when he was old enough, he should audition for ‘So You Think You Can Dance.’ He said he’d really like to do that at some point.

Carnival Cruise Lines has its own successful way of doing things, which in this case involved creating a musical group called “The Hot Shots!” The word “Fantastic” comes to mind when thinking of this musical group! Each member auditioned separately at the Carnival rehearsal facility in Miami and then rehearsed as a group until they were ready for the big leagues aboard ship. Fortunately for me and my team, which includes Jorge Fernandez, a former guitar player from Cuba and now a top flight structural engineer in the Tampa Bay area, who helps me with much of my technical work; Lucy Shaw, Chief Copy Editor; Ursula Bracker, Proofer, and lucky me Captain Hank Bracker, award winning author (including multiple gold medals), were aboard the Carnival Legend and were privileged to listen to and enjoy, quite by chance, music that covered everything from Classical Rock, to Disco, to Mo Town and the years in between. Talented Judith Mullally, Carnival’s Entertainment Director, was on hand to encourage and partake in the music with her outstanding voice and, not to be left out, were members of the ship’s repertory cast, as well as the ship’s Cruise Director. The popular Red Frog lounge on the Carnival Legend was packed to the point that one of the performances had to be held on the expansive Lido deck. However, for the rest of the nights, the lounge was packed with young and old, singing and dancing to “The Hot Shots!” - a musical group that would totally pack any venue in Florida. Pheona Baranda, from the Philippines, is cute as a button and is the lead female singer, with a pitch-perfect soprano voice. Lucas Pedreira, from Argentina, is the lead male singer and guitar player who displayed endless energy and the ability to keep the audience hopping! Paulo Baranda, Pheona’s younger brother, plays the lead guitar to perfection and behind the scenes is the band’s musical director and of course is also from the Philippines. Ygor, from Israel, is the “on the money” drummer who puts so much into what he is doing, that at one point he hurt his hand, but refused to slow down. Nick is the bass guitar player, from down under New Zealand, and Marina, the piano and keyboard player, hails from the Ukraine. As a disclaimer I admit that I hold shares in Carnival stock but there is nothing in it for me other than the pleasure of listening to this ultra-talented group which cannot and should not be denied. They were and still are the very best! However, I am sorry that just as a “Super Nova” they unfortunately can’t last. Their bright shining light is presently flaring, but this will only be for a fleeting moment and then will permanently go to black next year on January 2, 2020. That’s just the way it is, but my crew and I, as well as the many guests aboard the Carnival Legend, experienced music seldom heard anywhere, any longer…. It was a treat we will remember for years to come and we hope to see them again, as individual musical artists, or as perhaps with a new group sometime in the near future!

I still miss those days of putting on an actual costume to sing, dance, and be someone else. I have thought about going back and doing theater, or even starting a drama club at whatever school I end up at long term. I occasionally look up approaching auditions while I toy with those thoughts.

There are some great dancers in our grade; even some of the boys are particularly good. One boy named Alex has been dancing pretty much his entire life and is probably the best dancer in the whole school. When he was younger, he said that the other kids had bullied him and called him a girl as well as a heap of horrible names that he really didn’t want to mention. But I could see that everyone had finally developed a huge amount of respect for Alex and those who were still unaware of his talents were in for a big surprise. Hip hop is his specialty and he’s so cool to watch. I kept telling him that when he’s old enough, he should audition for “So You Think You Can Dance” and he told me that he’d really like to. As well as Alex, there’s another kid in our grade who is kind of overweight and dorky looking. But it turns out that he has an awesome voice. I had no idea that our school has so much talent and it certainly came as a huge surprise to find out that Liam can actually sing really well. The look of amazement when we heard his audition pretty much spread like wild fire. I even caught the teachers raising their eyebrows in astonishment. It just goes to show you that you can’t judge a book by its cover! I never really understood what that meant until hearing Liam sing. Now, I don’t think I’ll ever look at him in the same way again. It’s also a really big lesson for me. From now on, I will never judge a person by their looks alone. I’ll wait till I get to know them because I’ve found out that until you do get to know people, you really don’t know what type of person they are or what hidden talents they might have. Anyway, the musical was shaping up to be a huge success. The dance troupe we had put together was really coming along and we rehearsed during every lunch break and sometimes even after school. Then one afternoon, an amazing thing happened; Blake Jansen, who I’ve had a secret crush on since the fourth grade, turned up at rehearsals with his friend, Jack.

Crazy for You opens backstage at the Zangler Theatre, New York, where Bobby, desperate to break into showbusiness, performs an impromptu audition for the great impresario Bella Zangler. This is not a ‘book number’ – that’s to say, the music is not an expression of character or plot point arising from the dialogue, the defining convention of musical theatre. Instead, more prosaically, it’s a real number, a ‘prop number’: Bobby is backstage and doing the song for Zangler. So it’s sparely orchestrated – little more than a rehearsal piano and some support; it’s one chorus; and its tap-break ends with Bobby stamping on Zangler’s foot. This is grim reality: Bobby is expelled from the theatre. Outside, he makes a decision, and sings ‘I Can’t Be Bothered Now’ – the second song, but the real opening number: the first ‘book number’ in the show. There is an automobile onstage (it’s the 1930s) and, as Bobby opens the door, one showgirl, pretty in pink, steps out, then another, and another, and more and more, far more than could fit in any motor car; finally, Bobby raises the hood of the vehicle and the last chorine emerges. The audience leans back, reassured and content: Susan Stroman’s fizzy, inventive choreography has told them that what’s about to follow is romantic fantasy. More to the point, it’s true to the character of the song, and the choice of song is true to Bobby’s character and the engine of the drama: My bonds and shares May fall downstairs Who cares? Who cares? I’m dancing and I Can’t Be Bothered Now … This lyric captures the philosophy of Ira Gershwin’s entire oeuvre – which is important: the show is a celebration of Gershwin. But it’s also an exact expression of Bobby’s feelings and the reason why he heads to Dead Rock, Arkansas. So the number does everything it should: it defines the principal’s motivation; it kick-starts the plot; and it communicates the spirit of the score and the staging. Audiences don’t reason it out like that; we just eat it up. But that’s why.

A person who refuses to give up will always succeed, eventually. Henry Ford failed and went broke five times before he succeeded. NBA superstar Michael Jordan was once cut from his high school basketball team. After his first audition, screen legend Fred Astaire received the following assessment from an MGM executive: “Can’t act. Slightly bald. Can dance a little.

the psychologist turned to Gillian’s mother and said, “You know, Mrs. Lynne, Gillian isn’t sick. She’s a dancer. Take her to a dance school.” I asked Gillian what happened then. She said her mother did exactly what the psychologist suggested. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it was,” she told me. “I walked into this room, and it was full of people like me. People who couldn’t sit still. People who had to move to think.” She started going to the dance school every week, and she practiced at home every day. Eventually, she auditioned for the Royal Ballet School in London, and they accepted her. She went on to join the Royal Ballet Company itself, becoming a soloist and performing all over the world. When that part of her career ended, she formed her own musical theater company and produced a series of highly successful shows in London and New York. Eventually, she met Andrew Lloyd Webber and created with him some of the most successful musical theater productions in history, including Cats and The Phantom of the Opera. Little Gillian, the girl with the high-risk future, became known to the world as Gillian Lynne, one of the most accomplished choreographers of our time, someone who has brought pleasure to millions and earned millions of dollars. This happened because someone looked deep into her eyes—someone who had seen children like her before and knew how to read the signs. Someone else might have put her on medication and told her to calm down. But Gillian wasn’t a problem child. She didn’t need to go away to a special school. She just needed to be who she really was.

Forbidden from practicing any martial arts, slaves in 16th century Brazil developed Capoeira—fighting disguised as athletic, impassioned dance.

When I was sixteen, Joshua North couldn’t help but kiss me in the alley outside the dance club. Now he’s got his knuckles pressed down on his desk. So much restraint. What a good guy.

The dancing plague of 1518 was a case of dancing mania that occurred in modern day France. Around four hundred people, mostly female, danced for days without rest, some of whom died from heart attack, stroke and exhaustion. Modern theories for the mania include food poisoning or stress-induced psychosis.

Dancer Raven Wilkinson was one of the first African American ballerinas permitted to join a ballet company. During the 1950s, she danced with the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo under the condition that she pose as a white woman by painting her face.

Landon keeps interrupting to change the choreography, making it more and more elaborate, more and more unnatural for the human body. Dance should expand what we’re capable of, not contort us to prove we can.

Landon’s words echo in my head. Just moving parts. I’m a puppet on a string. I’m as good as a prostitute. It’s a sick sort of validation. I’ve been right all along. They only want me for the meat on my bones. Everybody, from Mamere on down, thinks this is it for me. Twirl and dance, little doll. There’s nothing else for you. Who needs a brain when you can let your arms hang in first position and the master will make the moves?

Ballet originated in Italy in the 15th century. At the time, it was illegal for women to dance in public, so they couldn’t join the ballet.

Bethany stands in graceful stillness next to me. People take stillness for granted. They think dance is all about movement. That life is all about movement. Bethany proves otherwise. The scent of her skin taunts me. Her stillness is a call to action.