If a resident dance supervisor has an ad needed for “The Lion King,” you may read something like this. Control 200 dolls and walk on the stilt. Stump 52 performers and remember every move in the 2.5 hour show. Candidates should also have the heart of a social worker, the discipline of the Marines, and the endless enthusiasm of a camp counselor to keep the musical fresh, just like they did 28 years ago.
Many Broadway shows have dance captains, who are in charge of keeping the choreography on track, but “The Lion King” has only a resident dance supervisor. The show is like a huge, moving speed jigsaw puzzle. Someone needs to make sure the story moves forward and no one gets injured to ensure that all the pieces fit together.
This was Ruthlyn Salomons' work for 25 years.
The movement is the motor of the show, Salomons said. “That's what holds it in. It's not just the body of the performance that moves. Everything in the show moves. Everything in the dance.” It's four puppeteers shoved into her body. This applies to mice that are as much as 5 inch as the 13-foot-long mom elephant Berta.
“The demands of the show are very unusual,” said Michelle Steckler, former associate producer of “The Lion King,” who said, “It requires a different kind of maintenance to take care of it.” Early in the show. , Steckler petitioned his colleagues to create a new position for someone to oversee all the movements. “It's too much for one person,” she said. (The show also has two dance captains, but they doubled as performers and are unable to see the show from outside.)
A few years later, the production hired Salomon, who has a wide range of dance backgrounds. She was a member of the Alvin Eilee American Dance Theatre, dancing in Mikhail Balishnikov's White Oak Project, and was “Swan Lake” by Princess Matthew Born of Romania. ” on Broadway.
Each performance of “The Lion King” discovers that it is anchored behind the light board behind the Minskoff Theatre, and scrutinizes the show's performers, not taking the wrong steps or temporarily leaving them behind. , do not shorten the tranquility. Given the complexity of staging, the spitfire speed of its change, and the interdependence of performers, disasters are always lurking. Performers were accidentally slammed by each other. The doll was beheaded.
“The show is very complicated,” she said.
With such a huge cast, there are always sick or injured, sick parents or children who need them, get married, have babies, take leave. Or just need a rest.
Salomons is a continuous fluctuation in education and training, ensemble members and soloists. And she's always busy with the clean-up section of the show, which encourages performers who have been shifted a little bit a little and become a little sloppy. That adds to keeping the choreography that won Garth Fagan Tony.
Of the 52 performers, only 16 are professional dancers, but everyone on the show must pass the dance audition. Given the complexity of manipulation of the doll, it is necessary to have the density, ability to dance, or at least be well coordinated, of the large number of people on stage and the group dances in stages. And it's just a stage.
OffStage makes its own choreography request. Performers need to navigate quickly and safely among 100 backstagers: stage hand, wardrobe, make-up artists, puppet directors, puppet scientists and physical therapists. . (Each ensemble member plays at least nine roles.)
“It's not the same,” Salomons said of her work. “I'm always learning something new.”
Last month we chased Salomon for a few days to see how she accomplished it.
January 6am, 11:45am, for a rehearsal of the brush-up stage before heading downstairs, Salomon is in her office and paging what is called her dance bible to check out the cast. Masu. The Dance Bible is a thick loose leaf binder in the size of an old Manhattan phone directory that we created to record every aspect of the show. Casting, every performer's movements. Illustrations by scene with entrances, exits and travel patterns. A schematic of the stage, auditorium, lobby, Belta and giant elephant doll are assembled just in front of the curtains.
If she has to be behind the scenes to deal with the show's emergency, the TV on her desk can track what's going on on stage. Taped to the walls and mirrors is a maze of lists with scene time and length, songs, monthly, weekly and daily schedules.
Stage rehearsal: Giraffe and Lioness
At 12:10pm, Giraffes Salomons is training ensemble member James Vessell to run Giraffe. At 5 feet-2, Salomon strains his neck and sits on a 14 feet tall puppet to correct him onto the boat. “The danger lies in the air,” she tells him. “You're picking up the scent of the cheetah that has been waiting for you. Every count is counted. Your life is on the line. It's important that performers understand the story that motivates movement.”
There are two giraffe puppets, each controlled by a single performer who must first climb the ladder. Salomon must learn to walk on high floors to teach the Geiraf puppeteer how to achieve its imposing walk and expressive tilt of his head as he crosses the stage. That was it. Success requires physical adjustments from the Olympians, and often requires a month to learn.
1:10, the next lioness is the eight lionesses in the hunting scene. “I had to remind them of the importance of stillness in their section,” Salomons said. “After doing eight shows a week, it's hard to remember the intention behind the movement. And every moment in the show, every movement has a story embedded in it.”
Crouching down on the edge of the stage, her eyes strode from the Bible of Dance to the dancers, gently singing the lioness chant. “I can't stop myself from singing,” she said with a laugh.
After a while she gushs up, crossing the floor rapidly, placing her hands on the dancer's torso, showing her exact position above her legs, her movement gives her greater ferociousness. She then turns to the group. “Remember, you have to be stealth. Quietness is extremely important for preparing for an attack.”
Dance rehearsal: 1 performer, 8 rolls, 13 scenes
Jan. 10, noon, at Riplie Lie Rear Studios on 38th Avenue, 12:00am, 8th Avenue, Salomons and Christopher Mackenzie, male vocalist and dancer dance captain, Jordan Samuels, swing. Her voice is quiet, but commander Salomon shows one step of the eight roles she plays in 13 scenes.
Mackenzie played at all shows for the three and a half weeks leading up to this rehearsal. “We needed Chris today so we can see the show from outside,” she said.
“Ruthlyn can't take part in all of the 19 rehearsals a week, so we're a hit,” McKenzie said. Female vocalists and dancer dance captains Mackenzie and Aria Kutch are also shaking.
At 5pm, after a four-hour rehearsal, Salomons races uptown at the office of production stage manager Antonia Janino for a short break before she and Janino do the evening casting. Performers are allowed to make a call two hours before the curtain if the curtains are not possible. And because ensemble members play so many roles in each show, performers, crews, wardrobes, hair, makeup, stage hand – must be able to turn on the dime.
The backstage corridor maze cracks with din of walkie talkies as crews share new information, announce updates and adjust timing.
showtime!
An hour before January Curtain 10, 6 PM, Salomon moved from the dressing room to the dressing room, answering questions, giving advice, giving notes and encouraging shoulder squeezes about how the dancers feel. Provides. After 30 minutes she quickly began to monitor the show to the station behind the light board.
At 6:30pm, the audience will begin submitting.
At 7pm, the curtains slowly rise above the giant orange sun rising behind the stage. The giraffe begins a majestic walk. The animal begins to wake up. Bertha begins to descend the aisle. Again, the audience holds their breath.
At 10:45pm after the final curtains and a 45-minute subway, Salomon is not ready to fall into bed, she said on the phone as she returns home to Lego Park in Queens. “We need to relax,” she said. “My mind is still racing with everything I have to do tomorrow. I close the lights, close my eyes, just try to silence. But sometimes, like last night, with the performers Even after I ran out of energy I was working with, my dancers couldn't stop, so I cleaned my apartment.”
After 25 years of work, how will Salomon maintain her enthusiasm? “Of course, I sometimes have my down days,” she said. “Everyday work can be a sacrifice, but something magical happens to reinvigorate me, especially when there are new performers I work with.”
She tells them it's okay to make a mistake by saying it's part of the process. Salomons discovers that she was a student at Lagardia High School in Manhattan and fell on stage while dancing at “company.”
“I was regretted and terrified at first,” she said. “How could I face the world again? A moment later I stood up and realized that if I could collapse and wake up again, I could become a dancer. I could do anything.”
