For the last five years, I have watched So You Think You Can Dance avidly. Every summer I would eat breakfast with my eyes peeled to the previous nights’ performances so I would know who left the show by the time my ballet teacher arrived to the first class of the summer intensive. When I got home, I would drag my sore body to the TV and beg my mom to let me watch more. It became synonymous with summer.
Why did a classically trained ballet dancer fall in love with a tricks-oriented competitive reality show? The answer is surprisingly simple. And, yet, simple words do not suffice to explain it. Despite the extravagant stage and the celebrity guest judges, or perhaps because of them, it shines a spotlight on the reality of the dance world.
Thousands come to the auditions, men and women who have trained for years to push their bodies far beyond the comfort zone and to stretch their definition of possible. Dozens of hopefuls deserve a spot on the live shows. Only twenty of them receive it. One dancer might be better in her style, but for the sake of versatility and variety another might beat her.
The physical and mental strain increases from there as week after week they learn multiple impossibly complex pieces from renowned, demanding choreographers. Week after week they are forced to adapt to completely brand new styles or go home. Sure, it’s a TV show. But professional dancers experience the same strain of countless auditions and just as many rejections, the same time limit for learning brand new choreography, and the same pressure to perform perfectly even when they do not feel ready.
This season, the format of SYTYCD changed to feature preteens instead of professional-age contestants, with the Dance Moms star Maddie Ziegler as a judge. Enraged, I ranted to anyone who would listen about how the show would degenerate into a series of tricks without any talent or artistry. I was wary of SYTYCD: Street Vs. Stage, but I was decidedly against this SYTYCD: Next Generation. Weeks after the original air date, I gave in and watched the auditions episodes, only to quit an hour into the first city. The dancers were cute and all, but they were not good. They were not the artists I found on the original show. Eventually I convinced myself to give it a chance.
And now? I miss the old format, but I can appreciate the talent of the young contestants who were hand-picked by All-Stars, previous contestants from all styles of dance. My favorite part is watching the All-Stars themselves become mentors to these young children and perform onstage with them. My heart swelled up with joy to hear ball-room All-Star Jenna kindly instruct her protégé Jake every step of the way, and I cried when she passionately called him the best thing to ever happen to her.
This too is dance. Even though I was never the best in my classes, I kept dancing because one floor above me were the professionals who sacrificed wealth and comfort for the joy and the beauty of ballet. I kept dancing because my teachers’ eyes lit up when I finally succeeded in a new step or in letting go of the steps and truly dancing. Dance seeks to inspire performer and audience member alike, and watching the next generation of gifted dancers receive the opportunity to learn from stars truly does inspire me.
I’ll leave you with the most moving piece from this season, contemporary dancers Kathryn McCormick and Tate McRae’s heartbreaking duet.
