#38 Divas

I think if you have to say to someone “Do you know who I am?” – that pretty much means you are a “has-been”.  Fame and recognition is dictated by the current fads.  Well – at least it is for most performers.  Think back ten years to some popular television actor – the hottest star – on all the magazine covers, etc.  Where are they now?  Every performer has their moment in the spot light – what I like to call their “flavor of the month” moment.  The thing that you have to realize as the current “flavor of the month” – is that soon – someone else will be the flavor and you will be forgotten.  That’s not a bad thing.  It’s just the way things are.  Society is always looking for the next big thing.  Like fads, your recognition will rise and fall.  The only thing that you have control over is your work ethic.  Personally – I like the rise and fall of recognition.  It keeps you grounded and reminds you to have a little humility.

A diva (beyond the definition as a distinguished female singer) is a person who either doesn’t recognize that they are no longer “flavor of the month” OR a person whose assessment of their worth is way out of whack.  I was never fond of divas.  Now I admit that many dancers have diva moments – those moments when your inner five year old takes over your thought process.  Dance is a self-centered art form and years of concentrating on your body does take a mental toll.  Luckily there’s usually someone around who’s more than happy to knock you down a peg or two when you get too full of yourself.   Divas are people who demand simply for the sake of demanding.  They like to be the center of attention and (I’ve discovered) it also doesn’t take much to push them over the edge.    

Miguel was an aging diva.  According to his resume, he had worked with some of the top dance companies in the world and he had danced some pretty impressive roles.  Notice I said “had”.  By the time I met Miguel, he was past his prime.  Don’t get me wrong – he was still a solid dancer – he just didn’t have any of the technical bravura of his past.  Unfortunately, as Miguel’s technique diminished, his posturing increased which made him hell to work with.  Most of the time, we tiptoed around him and tried our damndest not to set him off.  It worked for while – until the arrival of Gerald.  Gerald was one of those gifted performers who had it all.  His technique was strong, he was a quick learner, he was a good partner and the best part of all – he was a sweetheart to work with.  Gerald and Miguel were cast into a six-dancer piece (three men and three women).  For the record – Miguel had the lead male position.  The problems began on the South American tour.   At the end of the piece, each dancer crossed the stage and took an individual bow.  The order of bows was dictated by the choreographer – First solo – first bow, second solo – second bow and so on.  Miguel was bow number four and Gerald was bow number five.  Every night, Miguel would slowly walk out to the center of the stage, pause for dramatic effect and then take a large grand bow (kind of a cross between Luciano Pavarotti and Rudolph Nureyev).  The applause from the audience was always polite.  The moment that Miguel stepped into the wings, Gerald would come running across the stage where he would skid to a stop center stage.  He would do a quick bob of his head to the audience and then would run off.  The audience would go wild – screaming and yelling their approval.  Some nights Gerald didn’t even bother to stop on center – he’d just give a quick nod as he sprinted across the stage.   The audience still went wild.  In Gerald’s defense – this wasn’t an arbitrary reaction – he really was an incredible dancer and performer.  After the individual bows, the entire cast would come back out onto the stage for a final group bow.  Everyone beaming and smiling – soaking in the applause – with one exception – Miguel – who would be hanging his head and visibly pouting.  OK – so before I go on with this story – in retrospect – I think that if Miguel could have controlled his diva behaviour – I probably wouldn’t have lost my temper and pushed his buttons.  But he didn’t – and I did and as I’ve mentioned before – I’m no angel.

As the tour progressed, Miguel started going after Gerald.  You know – I had grown up hearing stories of backstage sabotage but until I had met Miguel, I’d never seen this sort of stuff in action.  It started with cigarette ashes being dumped into Gerald’s makeup.  Soon his rehearsal clothes were sliced up.  Then some of his costumes went missing.  Gerald silently endured the onslaught as long as he could but as Miguel continued to push – he was starting to get ticked off.  I knew that a confrontation between Miguel and Gerald was coming AND that it was coming soon.  My choice was to either ignore the warning signals and wait for the inevitable fist fight OR step in and solve it.  There was no point in going to the Director; she wouldn’t have believed me.  Miguel had played his cards well.  She never saw the side of him that the rest of us saw.  It was a bit of a dilemma.  Have you ever noticed how life sometimes has a way of working itself out?  Sometimes a solution – or an opportunity simply presents itself.

We were in Argentina and going through the spacing rehearsal.  Spacing is where you walk through a work on stage, stopping at specific formations to orient yourself with the space and your relationship to the rest of the cast.  The six-dancer cast was on stage and I was in the audience section where I could get a clear view of the spacing.  I stopped the cast in one of the diagonal formations and asked Miguel to fix his spacing.  Miguel started flinging his arms and sighing dramatically, “Where?  Where do you want me to stand?”  I rolled my eyes.  “Miguel, I need you in the diagonal.  Could you please check your spacing?”  He continued to throw his arms and demand, “Where?”  After a few more attempts to get Miguel to comply, I had finally had it.  I stood up and slowly walked towards the stage.  Standing near the orchestra pit with my hands on my hips, I said to him, “Miguel, if you aren’t professional enough to know what a diagonal looks like, I sure as hell am not going to come up there and show you.”  Miguel stopped in his tracks – and then blew.  It was a sight to see.  Screaming at the top of his lungs the entire time, he started throwing things off the stage, then he went into one of the wings and started throwing things onto the stage, then he went and trashed his dressing room.  The Director groaned behind me, “Debbie, why do you always do things like this?”  So she wasn’t thrilled with me.  It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.  Miguel’s image became tarnished in her eyes and a couple of months later, he was let go – after trashing another dressing room and I didn’t set him off on that tirade.