In case you haven't read my past essays and aren't familiar with how I make a living, allow me to quickly fill you in on my adventures in talent competitions.
When I'm not busy performing or creating work as director and choreographer, I spend my weekends flying to cities across the country as a judge for several large talent competitions. Very similar to popular television shows like "So You Think You Can Dance" or for those of you who remember... "Star Search." The format for these competitions is very similar, minus the television camera and the fame! It's a big business... a lot of money and prizes involved for all the contestants, and once regionals are through, the winners head off to the national level and compete against the best from all across the country. Most of the big winners receive scholarships to study at professional conservatories, sign with agents and continue to pursue performing.
Because of the popularity of the fore mentioned television shows, the hype for these talent competitions continues to grow.
Dare I say, the competitive world is cut throat!
What I discovered today, is that the kill or be killed attitude is not just happening on stage, or even backstage between contestants... But instead, with the judges in our dressing rooms. (To be fair, I've really never had a problem with any of the other extremely talented and knowledgeable judges that I've worked with at any of the talent competitions I've worked for.)
I'm still in shock and horror at what unfolded in our dressing room during one of our breaks between award ceremonies.
Our show manager decided to hold a quick meeting to discuss some irregular scores between judges. This is fairly common while judging because you have three different judges, with different backgrounds and expectations. Usually a great panel of judges are able to evaluate each performer based on their ability to execute the technique, their performance ability and finally the judges' preference (because lets not forget art is really subjective.)
Well today, one of our judges did not see eye to eye with me or the remaining judge, who happens to be a good friend of mine, she is extremely talented and a Rockette! (Let's call her Rockette.)
(From herein, I will refer to the third judge as Steroid Head)
Our manager sat each of us down in the dressing room, and began by asking basic questions regarding our reasons for placing certain performers where we had... Rockette and I had very similar scores and comments and of course this set Steroid Head off! He immediately began to accuse us of conspiring against him, and rigging the competition. Of course Rockette and I defended our actions and assured our manager that our scores were fair, unbiased and accurate based on what we expect from a certain caliber of performer.
Steroid Head was completely raging now... He began to stand up and scream, he threatened to quit, he called us liars and despite our managers best efforts, there was no calming the 'Roid-rage within him!
Rockette and I decided that it would be best to steer clear of the Steroid Head, allow him his feelings and continue to score as we saw fit.
Just when we came to a calm in the dressing room, and our manager returned to the stage to get ready for the second round of competition, Steroid Head decided to engage us in a back and forth... He'd say nasty things to get a response (like most of us did when we were in third grade...) and we ignored him. He'd make an accusation, and we ignored him. He'd make a lame joke and we ignored him... Basically, we ignored him.
Well I guess you can only ignore a Steroid Head for so long, before they decide to unleash the explosive hormones inside...
Because that is precisely what he did! He threw a chair against the wall, jumped over a dressing table and came toward me with his short, meaty finger and held it to my face, just gracing the skin on my nose. The bulging veins on his face looked like
worms that were just crawling under the first layer of skin. His eyes were yellow and red and on the verge of popping from their sockets, while his nasty steroid B.O. invaded my personal space...
He said; "If you fucking say a word to me the rest of the day, I WILL FUCKING CHARGE YOU! You hear me, I'll kill you!"
Rockette was shocked and on the verge of tears, while I stared him directly into his protruding eyes and didn't lose eye contact until he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I have never in my life been threatened like that. I was really shocked that someone could get that crazy over a talent competition. Especially one that they aren't even in!!! It became very clear to me that Steroid Head was very insecure and felt threatened that his scores and critiques did not mirror that of mine or Rockette's... and therefor, he had to show us who was boss.
I think he made his point loud and clear... You should never upset a 6' 2" gay queen on steroids (allegedly) while judging a talent competition!
Rockette and I finished the day safely... We happily continued to ignore Steroid Head.
2 comments:
Wow sounds like he was a loser in a competition when he was young. I guess his pain was just coming out and you both had to pay for it.
Pretty sad maybe he needs a new career.
crazy!
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