Post Number 17 - French-speaking Switzerland

Yes, Serena, it’s been a while.

So what has happened since my last blog?

Nat and I were auditioning in Geneva that weekend, so we decided to do classes in French-speaking Switzerland for a while. We did two classes with Bejart Ballet Lausanne, and one class with the Ballet Junior Geneva. I can’t find the words to describe our experience at Bejart Ballet. They were not cold towards us, nor were they overly warm and friendly. I guess they were lukewarm to us, bordering on indifference. Maybe if Nat was less amazing, they might have been cold.

I’m still struggling to find an opinion here. Okay, I hated it but I don’t really know why. The dancers are good, they all have nice bodies (anorexic, of course, but isn’t that supposed to be nice?) and the atmosphere in the class wasn’t a negative one. Lausanne is a nice place. Why did I dislike it so? It could have something to do with the fact that 98.9% of the company are smokers, and that they sit and smoke in the lunchroom where you are supposed to eat. It could be that. Or it could be the fact that it is too ballet for me and not really my style. In any case, I disliked it and will never even think of working there again. I’m sorry I am so vague, but the truth is I’m not really sure how I feel about the Bejart (or Gil Roman) Ballet Company. Ask Nat for her opinion, because I know she’ll have a few things to say.

Class with Ballet Junior Geneva was fun. The other dancers were not terribly strong, but they were all nice enough. The teacher was an American who spoke French (with an American accent), and she gave quite a good class. As I waited for Nat to get changed, the next class was beginning, and I was surprised to hear the same CD that Mark Brinkley uses. I quickly peered through the window and breathed a sigh of relief when I found out it wasn’t him.

So the day of the big audition arrived. We were staying with Sophie Meklons, who was one year our senior at WAAPA. Her dad is working in Geneva, so she’s over here taking a year off.  Nyo Nyo and her friend from Taiwan arrived later in the evening. They were doing the audition as well. Clearly, the whole world was doing the audition.

So we woke up early to catch the bus to the theatre, which was easy enough. Instructions were given to arrive at 8am for registration. Much to my horror, I found out that the boys didn’t have to be here till 12:30pm. Organisation, anyone? Luckily for me, I had Jane Austen to entertain me. Some of the other guys just walked aimlessly around. Anyway, Nat was in the first class, and came out looking quite satisfied with herself. She didn’t get a callback, but I think she was just happy that it was over. They only picked four girls out of her group. Probably the ano ones.

300 years later, it was my turn to go in. The guy who gave the class was this super tall guy with amazing extensions. It was really audition-like. There was a panel of about six sitting behind a desk, and looking as if they didn’t give a shit. What can I say, I did a good class. I was on my leg, I used my artistry and used all the technique that I have been trained to use. I laughed at the other boys falling out of their six pirouettes, knowing that I had done clean triples. In the end, I don’t know what the panel thought of me and I personally didn’t really care. I just wanted to get out of there. I didn’t get a callback. This time they chose the really muscular guys. I don’t know when they will ever look for the short, skinny, narrow-shouldered, bent-legged guys with poise and grace and technique. Probably never, and I’m okay with that. It’s not the end of the world.

I never felt better. The sun was shining, the streets were bustling with people and crepe stalls. I found a new passport holder (my Flight Centre one was starting to look like the victim of a bombing) and I was free as the wind. To top it off, Nat and I had already planned our holiday for the next week.

It was bliss. We traveled to Nice, Monaco, Marseille, Bordeaux and Tours. We had excellent weather the whole time. We sat on the beach, watched sunrises and sunsets and just let the past two months fall off our shoulders with each gust of sea breeze. We wore flip flops outside, we ate ice-cream and socca. We had our petit dejeuner at cute little cafes and strolled through antique markets and talked of nothing in particular. It was just what we needed before Nat departed for the city that is Paris, and I went to another bustling metropolis called Gießen.