DANCING FESTIVALS "And this completes the section" (Juniors in general)

Member Name: zoe_page_1

Product:	Juniors in general
Date:	29/10/03 (174 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: The festival itself

Disadvantages: The add ons - make up, hair, costumes that pinch

Imagine dancing on the largest stage in the north of England. Then imagine performing the same solo a week later on a stage the size of a shoe box. Welcome to the world of dancing festivals.

The word "festival" is a bit misleading here - it has positive, pleasant connotations when really in this usage it's referring to competitions that, at times, can be full of backstabbing, bitching and tears. They're the UK equivalent of American beauty pageants in a way. Little, and not so little girls, and sometimes boys prance around on a stage, wearing elaborate costumes and full stage make up in the hope of winning a few medals and trophies. Sounds fun, don't you think?

But to be honest, they really were. I danced for around 13 years and competed for maybe 5 of these. I was good, but not outstanding. I have quite a few medals but most are bronze not gold. I have my name engraved on the odd trophy doing the rounds in Lancashire. I have numerous certificates for placing 4th or getting honours. This may sound pretty good, but it wasn't. There are people who win as many medals in one festival as I did in my whole competing life. Everyone wins eventually, and if they don't they pretty soon give up. It's not the sort of set up where you carry on if you aren't getting rewarded. Keep dancing, yes, but not competing.

Because it doesn't make economical sense for people to quit festivals, they have built in ways of making people stay. For example, the first time you dance in a certain class style (ballet, tap etc) you enter at novice level. There are junior and senior age group sections for this and, at some festivals, intermediate too. If you keep coming 2nd and 3rd you dance in this class for a while. It's only when you've won gold here that you are made to change to the open classes for people who have won gold once to people who win gold every time. Open classes start with baby and then go A through F usu
ally, with each letter being a different age band (again, these vary from festival to festival, but as a guide C is for 11-12 year olds). Novice sections are for each new style, but not each new dance, so if you get a new ballet solo for example, and you won with the last one, you still have to continue dancing in the open class for ballet.

Most festivals have the same basic style categories (ballet, modern, tap, national, song and dance) and then, depending on the adjudicator, extras such as acrobatic, contemporary, Greek, character. In most cases you just go out and dance, but for some styles the announcer will give details of each dancer's "story" or title for the solo. My national was "Sicilian fisher girl", for example, and my Greek, "Celina, Goddess of the night". For characters you usually get the name of the part and a little description of which part of the story the dance is showing - "Lizzie Borden, distraught at her father's killing of her mother seeks her revenge and kills him": characters can be real or fictional. The majority of festival classes are for solos, but some are for duets, trios or groups. Time limits depend on the style, age group and local regulations, but are usually 2 - 2.5 mins for solos. There are also other rules for individual festivals including quite obvious things such as "no pointe work in the Baby class". But you can be certain if they didn't say that, someone would try it....

Venues for these things range from civic halls to converted churches (and pink ones at that) to school auditoriums to, sometimes, even, amazingly standard rep theatres. With the venues change the size and quality of the stage, the changing rooms and backstage area. Some are grotty. Some are, erm, less grotty. Though it has to be said, you cannot deduce what backstage will be like from the audience section. Blackpool opera house is quite ok if you're in the audience, but he
ad backstage and it's awash with peeling paint and lipstick "kisses" where people have blotted their lips on the walls.

To enter a festival you need to go through your dancing school as private entries are not usually accepted. Fees are charged for entry, usually a couple of pounds per solo which can add up if you do half a dozen dances, and extra duets, trios and so on. Festivals can take place all year round, but most are held between March and November each year, up and down the country. Some are stand alone events while others serve as elimination heats for bigger events. Most take place over at least 2 days (mainly weekends, though some fit in to half term holidays) but some can span a lot more. The days are mixed up almost randomly, not by age or style, so if you do 4 or more solos you could be there every day. The best time to dance (though it's the organisers, not you who decides when classes are scheduled), is early morning - the first class at 9am is never running behind schedule. Come 11am most of them will be. People not scheduled for in the program decide to dance though others do occasionally pull out too, either because they can't make it that day, or because they need new costumes and refuse to dance in the old ones anymore. Festivals are a breeding ground for prima donnas.

The audience is made up almost exclusively of (grand)parents and dancing teachers. People run in and out all the time, though festival etiquette asks that you wait until the person on stage finishes before entering / leaving so as not to disturb them. Entrance fees exist but are low - a couple of pounds per non-competitor, with discounts if you only show up after the lunch break. Programmes are essential so you know the order you're dancing, but are a mere 50p (or free if you smile nicely). Just as well too since at least in the Blackpool area, they don't seem to have discovered computers yet, and these things are exclusively typewri
ter typed.

So how does a festival work? An announcer steps onto the stage and announces they name and level of the next class, plus the number of the first dancer, for example "C Ballet number 1". That person dances, bows and leaves the stage. The next one is announced, "number 2", and they dance. And so it goes on. Sometimes if you're really lucky you get a "number 3 has not reported", meaning they haven't showed up, or a "number 4 is not dancing" meaning they showed up to say they wouldn't be, rather than simply not coming that day. "Number 5 (or 6, 7, 8...), and this completes the section" is the last thing you here, and lets the adjudicator know this is the last dancer because a lot of the time programmes, as I said, are not 100% accurate. In this case, number 5 will leave the stage and then all competitors will traipse back on holding their numbers. In up market festivals these might be plastic plaques. In Blackpool they are, more often than not, paper plates with hand written numbers on the front, lipstick marks and random smudges on the back and chewed edges. Classy. The dancers stay there smiling beauty queen stylee, until the adjudicator rises from their seat, at which point everyone claps. It's one of those silly traditions. S/he will make a few random remarks, ("Lovely section girls, just a shame the class wasn't bigger. Here I was looking for dancers showing blah ,blah, blah"). They then announce the placing, starting with the winner - "In 1st place, with 89 marks, number 2". That dancer steps forward, curtseys and gets their medal. The adjudicator may or may not give some specific praise, but it's limited because most comments go on the report (keep reading). Then we have 2nd and 3rd places for medals, 4th place is usually announced and then the numbers of those who achieved honours (80 marks +) are given. They class is dismissed and they leave the sta
ge. The announcer returns - "Junior novice tap. Number 1". And so it goes on.

Competitors get medals if they place in the top 3, or certificates if they do not. Everyone also gets a report containing suggestions for improvement ("smile more"), words of encouragement ("wonderful feet"), and non-performance related issues ("I feel this costume needs a white petticoat"). The level of detail depends on the adjudicator who narrates his/her comments to the writer sitting next to them, but most will give you 3 or 4 sentences. I used to read mine before each festival to remember what I was supposed to be doing differently this time, though when I actually got up on the stage most of that went out the window. I wasn't really someone who thought while they danced - I just did it.

I liked festivals although spending my days with my hair raked back, make up plastered on, watching others dance and getting up there on the stage myself would not have been good for my grades if I had continued much longer. I was terrified the first time I did one even though I'd been on stage lots before - usually just not on my own. I won a medal the first time I danced because there were only 3 of us in the class, and they never deny you one (though if you are the only one dancing, you might get a bronze or silver not a gold if they don't think you deserved that). That was pretty cool, and the next festival I did was the same, so my medal count was off and running. The only problem is, if you're 3rd out of 3 you haven't always really "won" the medal. Coming 3rd out of 4 is surprisingly 100 times more fulfilling.

It sounds clichéd, but you do benefit from taking part in festivals, even if you don't pursue a career in dancing. I've always been a little too cocky for my own good, but through dancing I've developed a love of being on stage and performing, and if I have to get a presentation a
nd get nervous, I remind myself that I've pranced half naked on ultra-slanted stages, so standing still, dressed in a smart suit, delivering a prepared speech is not going to be a problem. Right now I'm preparing my masters dissertation which has to include a half hour presentation in summer. When I told my professor I'll be fine with it because I like giving presentations he was rather startled, but it's the truth. I do. And I think dancing festivals might just have had a little to do with that.

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