Audition Day

Audition days as a ballet dancer are always fraught with nerves. Whether the audition is for a role in a production you have dreamed of or a simple level placement in your studio does not matter; the nerves are the same. The night before the audition, from the moment I lay my head on my pillow to the moment I wake after a fitful night of tossing and turning, it is the sole thing occupying my mind. I’ve spent hours lying awake, stewing over the possibilities and worrying about the outcome of the next day. Bright and early, when my alarm sounds and my eyes open, it rushes to my mind—the realization that it is the day that has loomed before me for weeks. The pressure mounts, and I take a deep breath to try and expel it. I remind myself that all I can do is try my hardest, prepare well, and let my years of hard work show in my performance.

The weeks leading up to the audition have been filled with extra hours in the studio, pushing myself to be better and hone my technique to as near perfection as I am able to attain. For those few weeks, the barre had become my home, and the music the very air I breathed. My focus shifts solely to my goal, and it occupies the front of my mind. It is because of this that I am able to wake today and push away the nerves. I know that I have given it my all. If I am to be disappointed by the result of the audition, I can find solace in the fact that I’ve put my best foot forward and pushed myself to the limit.

After waking and taking a moment to collect my thoughts to prepare for the day, I climb out of bed and begin my usual morning routine. The simplicity of the familiar routine calms me. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and then head into the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. I pair my coffee with a light breakfast of avocado toast and fruit. Fuelled and caffeinated, I return to my room.

I begin by meticulously applying my makeup. Auditions always call for a little extra to help you stand out and bolster your confidence. After brushing on all the needed pigments and coating my lashes in dark mascara, I begin the process of wrapping my hair into a tight and sturdy ballet bun. A ballet bun is different from other buns in that it must be extremely secure so as to ensure that it will not fall out once I begin dancing. I brush through my hair, mist it with water, and slick it back to secure it into a ponytail at the crown of my head. Once I am positive my ponytail is tight enough to be secure, I separate my hair into different strands and twist them into the shape of a bun and meticulously pin them down with hairpins. With the addition of a hairnet and a generous coat of hairspray, my bun is complete, and I knew that I can rely on it to last the day.

Feeling presentable, I then select my favorite leotard that I feel the most confident in from my closet and change into my leotard and tights. I pile on warm-up gear and move to the floor to begin stretching and loosening my muscles for the day. My routine involves beginning by rolling out my muscles with a foam roller, doing some light body conditioning, then finishing with some gentle stretches. Knowing my right achilles tendon has shortened and swelled with tendonitis, I give it particular care, ensuring it won’t betray me. Once I feel I am adequately limber, I gather my things into my dance bag: my flat and pointe shoes, an extra pair of tights and leotard, a can of hairspray, extra warm-up gear, and any other items I think I may need for the day. Sure that I have everything I need, I clamber into my car and drive to the North Carolina School of the Arts.

The studio is only two hours away, but I always leave early enough to ensure that I make it to the audition at least an hour early. To me, it is imperative that I show up with enough time to get my bearings and warm-up prior to the start of the audition. If I know that I have adequate time to prepare, I feel much calmer and ready when the time comes for the audition to begin.

Upon walking into the studio where the audition is held, I am instantly met with the chatter of my fellow auditioners. One would think that walking into the room to meet your competition would increase your nerves tenfold, but I have found that it has the opposite effect on me. When I enter the room to find everyone talking amongst themselves, it reminds me that beyond each other’s competition, we are a group of people with an incredible amount in common, and we all feel the exact same way. To me, there is an abundance of comfort in that. Witnessing everyone getting to know each other, chatting in corners while hoisting their legs over their heads, helps me to see it as a much more amicable environment and helps lessen my nerves.

Once in the studio, I find a free spot to place my bag and begin warming up while talking to the girls around me. These conversations offer a great distraction from the nervous thoughts that would have otherwise plagued me. Slowly, the time until the audition winds down, and I finish my warm-ups. I am called into the audition room, and rather paradoxically, a sense of calm washes over me. Because a ballet class is the place where I feel the most comfortable and sure of myself.

I have been a ballet dancer for almost 15 years. The methodic routine of a ballet class is something ingrained in every muscle fiber of my body. Once I am in a class, I can turn on autopilot and let my body do what it knows how to do without a second thought. I make it through the audition this way, with confidence in my abilities and the knowledge that giving it my all is enough.

At the end of any audition, I am almost always filled with a sense of pride. Whether I believe I did well or poorly, I am always proud of the fact that I tried my best and had the courage to put myself out there and be vulnerable.

And then, relief.

The knowledge that the final decision is out of my hands and that my role in the process is now over is somehow liberating. I know that the results of the audition will come, but I also know that the results are not a reflection of who I am as a person. They are simply someone else’s opinion of how well I performed in one class and are incapable of measuring my value or worth. I get back in my car and drive down I-74 to Southern Pines, North Carolina, and step back into my day, now anxiety free, ready to return to normal life.