p(REVIEW) week

What do you get when you mix 380 motivated, caffeinated, over achievers with an infinite matrix of classes, auditions, shows, talks, and callbacks?

The short answer is preview week, but the lived experience encompasses so much more than the packed schedule outlines. Although only in serious action since Friday, we the student body have already celebrated countless triumphs, tested the limits of our endurance, comforted one another through audition related heartbreak, and exalted in sweaty, fatigue sweetened slumbers.  

Whereas some students’ first ADF milestones were discovering their names on a cast lists, mine was a little more mundane, worthy of a pat on the back and perhaps a participation award. I successfully managed to drive one of the festival vans to and from the airport without killing anyone. TWICE.

One of our first active dorm counselor responsibilities entailed ensuring that our charges arrived at Duke safely from the airport. Before student check in, the 14 of us were presented with schedule outlining our rescue missions. Myself and a fellow counselor geared up for the task at hand and strode fearlessly towards the resting vehicles one of which we would need to wrangle in order to transport three students and their belongings. Exchanging sidelong glances, we telepathically encouraged the other person to surrender and take charge of taming the creature. When mental manipulation failed, we tried the innocent sounding "So, who wants to drive the van?” route with an equally non-committal “It doesn’t matter” in response. Loosely translated- "Shit, I really don't want to drive this thing and I'm hoping you'll just do it". No one budged.


Keys in hand, we approached the beasts, each named after a member of Destiny’s Child. We were assigned to Kelly. Upon opening her doors and testing out the driver’s side, we discovered that the pedals were a bit too far from the seat for my shorter cohort to drive. It was my time to shine. I placed my coffee mug in the cup holder and turned the key. Kelly cranked into action. She was surprisingly easy to maneuver. Despite her powerful air conditioning and bumpin’ stereo, I'm sad to report she was still no Beyoncé. Sorry Kelly. 

Let me introduce you to Kelly

Our adventure took us to Raleigh Durham International Airport, home of cheap parking, in search of under 18s and international students. We honed in on our targets with little difficulty but encountered our second challenge of the day in the form of a language barrier. Our new friend spoke limited English and only communication I could offer in return were the Spanish equivalents of:

hello,

goodbye,

thank you,

you're welcome,

1-25

I love you,

library,

bathroom,

and

contemporary dance


Fortunately, the desire to communicate itself got us surprisingly far. By the end of the car ride, I had added caliente, frio, verano invierno to my vocabulary. I am pleased to announce that with my new found knowledge, I am able to relay important messages like "I love hot summer!" and "Goodbye winter, hello contemporary dance!", in Spanish to any one who will listen. The tremendous diversity of the student body has proven to be one of my favorite aspects of summer dance study. I remember standing in a circle at Bates Dance Festival last year realizing that in order to have an adequate conversation, with the people in that group, would need to be fluent in five different languages.

The following morning, once assured that no one had been lost in transit, we paraded in a sea of baggy shirts and backpacks to orientation where the faculty intended us to spend 3 hours listening to important information about the festival. While the attempt was valiant, many of us missed a significant portion of the material, choosing instead to utilize our time mapping out efficient escape routes from the lecture hall. Immediately following orientation, we would have our first opportunity to dance. All 380 of us were hungry for one of 40 coveted spots at the barre in Jackie Villamil’s master class. I tried lying to myself, deciding it was no big deal whether or not I was one of the 40 and that competition was unnecessary. Fyi, I am a terrible liar. As the meetings wore on, I capitalized on breaks as a means to establish myself as sentry of the left door. Having secured a spot, I waited, water bottle in hand, backpack already slung over my shoulders. Tension built as the other students inched closer to the door.

And then the floodgates opened.

Picture the herd of wildebeests that trample Mufasa at the beginning of the Lion King and you’ll have a scaled down image of the 2015 ADF Ballet Stampede. I felt confident as I rushed out the door, wind in my hair and plies on my mind. From the corner of my eye, I watched my partner in crime from the van excursion carve a short cut under a bush through a patch of mulch. As I approached the halfway mark, my shoes began slipping about, causing my pace to slow and other runners to begin passing me. Unfortunately, I had committed a rookie error and worn flip flops to the road race. Naturally, I did as any calm, non-competitive human should- took my shoes off and sprinted faster. Turning my final corner, I watched as the elite runners crossed the threshold of the Ark, the East Campus beacon with floor to ceiling windows marking our finish line. Pulling out my identification card in exchange for a neon orange ticket, I ran my last 400 yards and triumphantly claimed my spot at the barre.
 


With the lovely Jackie Villamil

Mission accomplished!

Jackie, one of ADF’s 2015 Balasaraswati/Joy Ann Dewey Beinecke Endowed Chair for Distinguished Teaching recipients, graciously led us through a glorious hour and a half of contemporary ballet technique. Upon completion, sweaty and euphoric, we exhaled and strode into the sunshine, preparing ourselves for the goliath task of completing the following 4.5 days without burning out.

Preview week used to be preview weekend but was extended due to the sheer volume of happenings and opportunities available. We have a suggestion box in our student headquarters and I intend to propose that the members of the school office sign and frame the first week’s schedule as a relic of organizational genius. On check in day, we were sorted into 6 groups identified by the colors of the rainbow sans the regularly neglected indigo. Once preview classes began, the groups migrated around campus discovering the locations of various studios and sampling 35-40 minute classes from each of 20 faculty members. We were welcome to both take classes and sit along the outskirts of the studios to observe, the end goal being completely informed decision making on class registration day.

In case 20 mini classes weren’t enough for our eager hearts, festival auditions also occurred during preview week. These included opportunities to participate in repertory projects, new works to be presented in the footprints concert, choreography set by the international choreographers in residence, and professional company apprenticeships. Even with the constraints of my job which excludes me from most auditions, I danced for nearly 20 hours, observed 3 auditions, participated in 2, and watched 2 professional company performances. Based on my calculations, the few, the brave, the walking dead, who attended all of the auditions, call backs, and classes accumulated an additional 12 hours, racking up an impressive total of nearly 32 hours of physically and mentally exhausting work.



Although everyone is tired, the sore muscles and spent minds are no match for the fervor washing through the ever humid summer air. If preview week has taught us anything, it is that we are ready. We are ready to learn, ready to grow, ready to conquer obstacles, and ready to do it together.