We are the short. The clumsy. The cankled.
But for a few glorious hours, 35 fellow classmates and I are Rockettes-in-training, high-kicking our unwieldy gams with abandon on the boards of Radio City Music Hall. (Or at least in a rehearsal hall nine floors above center stage.)
That’s because we’ve all signed up for the 4-hour Rockettes Experience class, designed for self-assessed “intermediate/advanced” dancers.
I don’t consider myself an “intermediate/advanced” walker — yet on a recent wintry Sunday, I find myself stretching nervously in a sea of leg warmers and buns as a piano accompanist plays chords from the famous “12 Days of Christmas” number.
The once-tiny classes, which now hold up to 75 people (including dancers and their parental observers), began 10 years ago as a special holiday-season activity — but in recent years they’ve expanded to year-round sessions due to increased interest. And this holiday season, enrollment has spiked, according to Megan Shuffle, registration coordinator at Broadway Dance Center, which organizes the sessions with the Rockettes.
“We are getting more requests than we ever have for the Rockettes Experience,” says Shuffle. “It’s a huge thing — people are traveling from all over the US for a pretty monumental day.”
Meagan Wempe, for example, flew all the way from Austin, Texas, just to cross the class off her bucket list: “This is my Christmas present from my husband,” says the 30-year-old nurse. “Dreams still come true.”
The workshop is also a huge draw for the tween set, who swoon at the chance to hoof it beside NYC’s iconic leggy ladies.
“I love that we get to do, like, stuff that the Rockettes really do,” whispers Angelica Rizzo, a cherubic 9-year-old from College Point, Queens, who arrived with her dance troupe and, like most everyone in the balmy rehearsal hall, has years of tap and jazz under her dance belt. (I am the only student in the room over age 17.)
I am also the only student to arrive in a sexy Santa dress. Sure, the registration instructions advise wearing modest dance attire — but if you’re going to humiliate yourself, it’s best to do so in full costume.
After sweating through a warm-up of jumping jacks and ab work, our instructor Rockette Dani Betchel shouts for us to strap on our tap shoes. My cohorts race to their dance bags, eager to replicate the synchronized magic they just watched onstage. (The class includes a ticket to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular and a backstage tour, along with a mock audition — more on that special terror later.)
Betchel, fresh from back-to-back performances, barks out steps: “Ball-change! Ball-tap! Stamp, stamp, stamp!”
The girls obediently tap out the choreography from the show. I smile wildly — and try not to take out a row of fourth-graders.
Eight-year-old Jaclyn Matheos from Bethpage, LI, comforts me when I fall behind. “It’s hard, um, especially when the teacher moves like fast, fast, fast.” But she ultimately rates the class’ difficulty level as “easy-medium.”
(I’d go with “medium-impossible,” but I’m clearly in the minority.)
Betchel, a tall, 24-year-old blonde from Ohio who’s danced with the Rockettes for six years, is cheerful and professional.
“The Rockettes’ style is really hard,” she reassures. “But opportunities like this are one in a million. I was once a little girl wanting so bad to be here, and the knowledge presented here is priceless.”
Indeed, future would-be Rockettes from as far away as Massachusetts and Virginia clickety-clack beside me.
Madelyn Bedard, 10, from the Boston area, is a fan of those fantastic costumes — especially “the sparkly one that they wear in the finale because it’s really, really pretty and it costs a lot,” she gushes.
Amen, Madelyn.
We soon switch to jazz combos and then finally reach our holy grail . . . The Kickline. Assistants arrange us by height (tallest in the middle makes everything prettier) and instruct us to link arms without actually touching — a major Rockette secret — while flinging our toes to eye-level.
I huff and puff as my legs fly akimbo through the air. The rollicking piano urges us on as I try desperately to stay upright.
A few girls down, Patrice Brown Thompson from Brooklyn, clad in all black except for a bright-pink flower blooming from her headband, grins. “When I grow up, I would like to be a Rockette,” confides the 13-year-old, whose parents and big sister signed her up for the class as an early holiday gift. “They are full of dancing — it brings joy to all the people in the world.”
All she needs are a few more years and inches: Rockettes must be at least 18 years old and between 5-foot-6 and 5-foot-10.
Now, it’s “audition” time, with Betchel and another Rockette official eyeing us.
I watch the first wee dancers hit their spins and kick for the heavens. My mouth goes dry. When my number is called, I somehow manage to turn the wrong way, flick the wrong wrist and kick the wrong leg in all three of my audition routines. But I keep smiling!
I ask little Madelyn how she thought I really did.
“Um,” she says, followed by a long pause. “Nine out of 10.”
Nailed it!
The Rockettes Experience; $199 for dancers, $199 for observers (including tickets to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular) this month; $120 for dancers; $45 for observers January to August 2013; info at rockettes.com.
Top 5 tips for dancing like a Rockette
1. You better work it, girl!
Rockettes consider themselves professional athletes, rehearsing six hours a day, six days a week. They also must be proficient in tap, jazz and ballet just to audition for the company.
2. Keep calm and kick on.
The iconic Rockette high-kick requires lifting your toes exactly to eye-level while hopping in place — at least 300 times in every show.
3. You don’t have to be a robot . . . but it doesn’t hurt.
“In real rehearsals we’re detail-oriented and we’re not lenient on specifics,” says Rockette Dani Betchel. “Of course, we’re human — but even a finger out of place with us and . . .” she trails off ominously.
4. Grow tall. (Just not too tall.)
Rockettes must be between 5-foot-6 and 5-foot-10½. No exceptions!
5. Invest in some red lipstick.
Rockettes never see the light of day without first applying a coat of crimson to their lips (and wearing a smile from ear to ear).