After every audition, there are people who feel disappointed in their level placement.  There are always questions, always appeals, and occasionally even tears.  So to try and reduce the amount of sadness that follows auditions, I wanted to write a little about the reality of auditions/tracks, both from the perspective of a post-aha student and from the perspective of a teacher/judge. 

First things first: the advanced level of a workshop is not Advanced.  It's "the top x leads and follows who auditioned."  Not making the top x students doesn't mean you're not advanced.  Conversely, making the top x students doesn't mean that you are advanced.  Next time I have resources allowing, I'm auditioning all student except total beginner, and calling them shoe, toolbox, windex, and candle.  The different tracks, rather than serving as a global indicator of your dancing, give you an idea of where you are relative to the other students at that workshop.  That is all.  

Also, consider this: once your dancing gets past a certain point, people become delighted to discover you.  You regularly get comments like, "that was awesome!" "you follow everything/everything you lead works" "you're so much fun!"  That point is not the advanced student threshhold.  It feels that way, I realize.  Dancing suddenly works, people give you nothing but positive feedback... rainbows sing and puppies fly.  I know.  That's a really beautiful place.  But it doesn't equal advanced.  When (or if) it happens depends on the dancer, but please don't think it means anything about your level.  And even if it did, remember my first point.

The judges are not amateurs.  Before you decide that a judge simply can't tell how good your dancing is, consider this: dance instructors make their livings by learning to see dance.  We have learned to diagnose connection issues visually.  We can also see move choice, rhythm, posture, musicality, control, balance, and quality of movement.  For follows, don't be fooled by the idea that if you only get average leads, we can't see you shine.  A beautiful dancer will make simple movements shine- they have control, quality and richness of movement.  A lesser dancer will lack the same control, even on nicely led fancy moves.  Quality of movement matters, y'all- it's more than a style thing.  For fun (by which I mean education), go watch the SYTYCD auditions on youtube.  Not only can you pick out stronger dancers during the choreography, where everyone gets the same movements, but you can see on movements as simple as a step, or a hand gesture, during their solos.  Go look!  And then give your judges a little more credit.  


On that note, leaders, what judges want to see at an audition are your.... basics.  We want to see your fundamentals.  We're not looking for which leaders have the fanciest moves.  We're looking for solid leaders.  And, might I mention, it would be nice to see the follows do their fundamentals, but that's reliant on you, boys.  



When I was at Herrang in 07, I was sorely disappointed to be left out of Advanced I.  But after a few days, it dawned on me.  Yes, I had followed just fine.  But the difference was that while Advanced II follows could follow everything, Advanced I follows made it look like art.  And there, children, lies the rub- dancing is about more than just connection.  At some point, very late in the learning process, the visuals matter.  No, I don't care about your styling (yes, judges can see past styling to fundamentals).  What I care about is that after you reach a certain point in connection, the sorting variable becomes about aesthetics, and taking you art past something purely social, and turning it into art.  Don't lose the social- connection is always important- but on top of that, make it yours.  Have control over every bit of your body (and control involves relaxation as well as engagement).  


If at this point, you say to me, "But I don't care how my dancing looks- I only care about connection" then be satisfied with what level you get placed in.  Don't place stock in a placement (such as between the top two levels) that involves a variable you don't care about.  By your metric, your level should be as good as the next, so be happy- and that's not me being snarky.  I truly wish people would enjoy their levels, and make the most of them.  Every moment you think about being in the wrong level is a moment you're not open to learning.  It suddenly becomes about preconceptions and ego.  Some of the best classes I've ever had were in tracks that were too low, or that I thought were too low (which looking back, were right on).  


One last point: it's not only unkind to your possible classmates to put you in the wrong level.  It's unfair to you.  We as instructors want to give you the best chance to learn the most possible.  The instructors are just as good in a lower track, but they're fine-tuning the material to the needs of that group. 


Yes, misplacements occasionally happen.  But they're very, very rare.  And if you're open and working hard, you'll get more out of being placed too low than too high.


With love and good will,
-Mike

Alright, this explosion was small.  But it was enough to take permenantly out of commission the power source for Plucky, one of my two personal assistants... and by personal assistants, I mean ancient, ailing-but-essential computers.  There was a short in the cord that goes from the computer to the blocky-bit, and I'll admit it, I'd known that for a while- she was a little needy on how she wanted to be positioned if you wanted her to charge.  But last night, with sparks and smoke and a tiny stink bomb of melting rubber, that power adapter said farewell (and good luck with your musicality class), and left the functional world. 

Now there are a few pieces of background you need to know before I can continue:
1. I'm in Boston, which is where I was last night.
2. I drove to Boston yesterday.
3. When I drive, I plug my computer into my car stereo, to keep from arriving only in a ditch.
4. My computer doesn't have enough batter for the Philly-Boston trip, plus 2 classes, plus an hour of djing.
5. Last night I was scheduled for 2 classes, plus an hour of djing.

You see where this is headed?

So there I was, between class one and class two, with my computer howling for more power, despite having been plugged in for an hour, when snap-crackle-pop-oh-dear-oh-dear- no more cord.  No more power.  No more music.  Class two was a musicality class. 

"Oh, no!" cried our heroine, distrought.

"Hark!  A lady in distress!  No music?  No laptop!  I know!  I'll fight the giant dragon called 'Internetus', to reach the castle Emusic, plunder some perfect tunage, and save the day!" Announced our bold hero, Sir John Brooks. 

So he battled the dragon, got the magical music, which she used to weave a spell of magic over her students.  And together they drove away into the night.

All of which is to say a big thank you to John Brooks, for being my knight apon his sturdy laptop, and to Gui and Union Blues for bringing me out- last night, despite the explosion, was delightful.

Off to find a new magic wand,
-m.