AUDITIONING IN ROME - From Naples to the Circus

What I am about to tell does not refer to any TV series or film. Simply because what I saw today was never represented through such media. Maybe James Cameron will arrive there in ten years after inventing advanced technologies and XYZ generation cameras but till today my story could not find representation. 


This morning I had my first audition in Rome. Warned at the last minute about this job opportunity and encouraged by friends who know my laziness when it comes to work hard to get a contract, I showed up at 10.00am on Good Friday of the Easter Holidays of the year 2010 at a gym in Appia Nuova in Rome. 


Although disturbed by the idea of competing in a space not designed for dance but for body conditioning, abs abs abs, aerobics, step and other manic calory burning disciplines I arrive with my not very fashionable jumper to find out, already by the entrance of the building, that I am totally out of place. 


I take a deep breath and pretend not to notice that nobody has a hair out of place, or showed up makeupless or that the new must-have piece of clothing for dancing is a checkered shirt as if we have to dance for Madonna in "Do not Tell Me". Anywy I sign in: No. 65 .

[Non-dancers may not know that the dancers are usually provided at auditions with a little number to be put in a visible place. (Locations chosen by the participants to show the serial number and the support chosen by the organizers to hold such numbers could be subjects to many other posts on this blog)]. Just know that the green Post-it is no better than the yellow Post-it: they just do not stick to fabric, especially if you plan to move with that thing on. And... dance is supposed to be movement. 


However low my spirit is I take this audition as exercise for future ones and decide to try to do well and enter the dance room to warm up. Only ten minutes after I realize that the space, supposed to accommodate up to fifty people, is reaching 200 participants. 


I take another deep breath (the air is lacking) and concentrate. The combination is interesting. I put effort in it despite the fact that from my position I can only see heads and arms of the choreographers. I am confident they will soon announce the exchange of rows so that we would all be able to benefit from a complete picture but I understand straight away that no one will give away the pole position. When I try to take a few steps front I am bounced back by a wall of checkered shirts. 


I begin to get an idea of how it works. While marking (technical term for the action of rehearsing with little effort) I get kicked and punched by the ones around me who are dancing as if it was the premiere.


I am about to give up but then decide that I owe it to myself to learn the combination before going to my doctor's appointement booked in the afternoon. As time goes by I begin to see more clearly. What in Rome people call an audition is very similar to a fight at the fruit market in Naples. You might not raise your voice but you make noises by clapping at anthing that happens around you.


I continue trying while a bunch of breakers do never before seen things and ballerinas are going around with the usual expression of the people who do not want to get on the stilts for the day. Suddenly I realize I am no longer in Naples, but in a circus! But no wait! Wait... look at that one and that one! and that one! and that too! This is Gay Pride!