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In the Wings

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Aimee Claire Timmins

Jailhouse Jazz Hands

‘What if I get blacklisted’? I said with terror. ‘


I’ve pushed as much as I can. Casting is only seeing 12 girls in the whole of London and I can’t get you in! Just turn up and pretend you’ve got an appointment’, ‘if it goes south, I’ll take the fall.’ My agent responded down the phone. Silence filled the receiver, as my stomach did a back flip.

‘It’s absolutely your choice but this one has your name on it!’ I knew she was right.

‘Oh god……….silence again…….. ok I’ll go’


Thursday 9.30am. There it was CHICAGO the MUSICAL WEST END AUDITIONS, read the sign taped to a rickety table in the foyer. A casting assistant sat there with a pile of headshots and a clipboard. AKA Carly. Here goes…..EVERYTHING, I gulped to and casually/so not casually waked toward her.


‘Hello, Aimee Claire Timmins for the 10am dancers audition call’. I said breezily, as if I were ordering a skim latte, 2 sugars. Little did she know my palms were beginning to sweat. Carly scanned the list of auditionees listed on her clipboard to find my non-existent name. ‘You’re not here’, she said with the slightest air of confusion and skepticism. ‘Oh, that’s so strange, my agent confirmed with me’, mimicking her confusion and skepticism. Wink. ‘I’ll call her now’, reaching for my phone and pretending to dial. ‘Let me check with the panel’, headshot & cv?’ she more stated than asked. I handed her my 8 by 10, oh lord, this isn’t going to work. The fear in my belly was now rising to the surface. As she walked away, I reached for my phone to ‘call to my agent’. Staying in character. What felt like seconds later Carly reappeared. ‘The panel will see you’.


‘I just spoke to my agent (still in character) and, she cut me off shoving a form to fill out in front of me. Her annoyance had now grown to distaste, but……IT WORKED!! I was getting to audition!!!! Me and only 12 other dancers in the whole of London. Thrilled, I felt I had already won.


Walking into the studio hearing only the sound of chorus heels quickly brought me back down to earth. Ok you’re in an audition now, you better make this worth it. As I looked into the mirror black leotards, fishnet tights, and a sea of red lipstick, stared back at me. It might have been the only time I walked into a dance call with so few dancers. Even if not exactly following the rules, I knew the lie to in that room was worth the risk.




Count by count we all made our way through all of Fosses’ nuanced choreography, like so many dancers had who came before. Through every articulated wrist, splayed hand and subtle shoulder roll the fear of getting caught began to dissipate and was replaced with drive to do justice to this iconic show. There was something timeless and referent about its history, the dancers that I only wanted to honor.


As we finished up the audition for the panel (still without one raised eye-brow towards me), all the dancers left the studio and waited patiently for the verdict. Call back or cut? Dazed, I walked back down to the dressing room with the others. I did it, it was done, I felt like that was what mattered. I wasn’t even thinking about getting a call back, I had got to audition and auditioned well. Satisfied.


My bestie Carly walked back into the dressing room where all dancers were gathered. List in hand. I listened……….my name wasn’t not called. No call-back. No gonna lie, a callback would have been amazing but I felt a little relieved. Kind of like when you win at the black jack table and don’t want to push your luck. The whole morning had been amazing, took a risk and I did what I had set out to do, audition for CHICAGO the MUSICAL in London’s West End. For a 21-year-old Aussie kid that was a pretty great day.


Soft chatter filled the dressing room as dancers called loved ones, backed up their things or shuffled sheet music for call-backs. I sat down to take off my heels, finding relief and feeling again in my toes again when……


‘Is Aimee Claire Timmins still here?’ A loud/familiar voice bellowed as the room suddenly became silent. There it was the back flip in my belly again. Just when I thought my risk was a triumph, just when I thought my career was sill intact, just when I thought…… ‘Yes……..that’s me,’ I squeaked, turning around in slow motion, like a scene in a horror film. Carly. ‘The panel would like to speak with you’. Shit.


The hallway up the stairs to the studio, felt long and thin. Like it could disappear from under my feet at any minute. My mind was racing, this was it, the end, BLACKLISTED. My non-career disappearing before my eyes. Now I knew how Hunyak the Hungarian felt on her tightrope walk to death row. NOT GUILTY! But I was guilty, I was, I WAS! I was the 7th unwritten merry murderess – the crime of the lying jazz hand. GUILTY! At least I on brand. The studio was bright, brighter than it was before. The panel sat behind a table in front of the mirrors. West End casting director, resident CHICAGO director and dance captain ‘Aimee, please come sit down’. Knees weak, heart beating, brain foggy…oh shit,, oh shit o shit……


London’s cobble stones turned a darker shade of grey as the rain softy began to kiss them under my feet. My legs were beginning to regain strength from the enormity that was that morning. My phone started to vibrate in my hand. ‘How did it go’, my agent asked with nervous glee. ‘They said I was perfect for the show, and loved me to be in it’. ‘WHAT’!!!!! She screamed down the phone. I paused then broke out into laugher, ‘IN 10 YEARS, TIME’!! Continuing to tell her, the panel thanked me for coming to audition and said I simply too young, come back in 10 years. All the wiser still not knowing they never called me in for an audition in the first place! We both had a giggle to one another, feeling smug at what we had just pulled oc. We were both right, it did have my name on it……or it would in 10 years.


I’m not suggesting to every young dancer to crash every single audition. That could definitely lead to blacklisting. But sometimes you must courageously take a risk and back your own jazz hands cause it might pay off or it will…..in 10 years time.

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