She sets the scene. “You have zero control and, honestly, neither do they. They have no idea who’s going to walk in those doors.”
It’s a late summer weekend. You are in a room in Sydney with dozens of strangers. The prize is big. A rare full time gig with one of the country’s few securely funded dance companies. The numbers say your chances are slim, but you’re here now. The years of training – dreaming – have brought you to this moment.
In the world of Australian contemporary dance, being part of the ensemble at the Sydney Dance Company is a privilege. No wonder the room is full.
As one of the newest members of the Sydney Dance Company team, Melbourne born dancer Mathilda Ballantyne remembers how she felt about the company as one such aspirant. “I was such a fan. In my head they were like the gods of dance. Kind of unreachable,” she says.
Likewise, Timmy Blankenship had been dazzled by the lights; so much so that he flew from his native US to try his luck. “Obviously, there was nerves but…for me, I went through a really dramatic injury where I was basically not able to dance for, like, almost an entire year,” he recalls. “So, when I came to the audition, it was my first time properly dancing in, like, ages.”
On the other side of the process, longtime company member and Helpmann Award winner, Richard Cilli, remembers how both Ballantyne and Blankenship “wowed us.” However, as Sydney Dance Company’s resident Rehearsal Director, and the man charged with fronting the 2026 audition weekend, he never loses sight of the way packed rooms feel for applicants. Indeed, for Cilli, the audition scene is almost as nerve jangling as it is for the dancers.
With a brief laugh of memory and recognition, he reveals, “Oh my god, to be the one who has to go out to the foyer and read out the names of people, I am honestly shaking. Like, every time, and it does not get easier, because I feel the pressure of what’s riding on it.”
As the partner of an actor, he remains in touch with the psycho-emotional reality of the audition rollercoaster. “He keeps me real because I get to see what it’s like to put yourself out there. The vulnerability and the hoping, and the imagining of what your life might be like if you land this gig. It can feel like there’s a lot riding on it. Like, people can put their self-worth on the line.”
In a culture of sacralised striving, where the false gods of meritocracy rule with sociopathic disregard, the audition (like the pitch or the job interview), can seem far more important than it truly is. Hence, the temptation to gild the lily, to overlook warning signs, to change who you are.
Here, Ballantyne is blunt. “Being performative is probably one of the last things I’d advise anyone to be; because at the end of the day, you’re auditioning as yourself. The person that you are is going to be the person in that job.”
For Blankenship, the same holds true. “I wasn’t just auditioning for the company, but the company was also auditioning for me,” he explains. “You know, is the rep right for me? Does the company provide support for injuries, for mental health; and also, what’s the quality of life like?”
Underlining this, he adds, “I stayed in Sydney for a week after the audition [because] I think it’s really important to be able to envision yourself working and living in whatever place you might be in.”
Rehearsal Director Cilli concurs. “We’re looking to see the you-ness of you,” he emphasises. “How you learn, what it’s like to work with you; and although it might seem trite to say, you’re also auditioning us.”
However, back in the room, much of this will be lost. Dream gigs don’t come along every day, especially in the relatively tight ecosystem of Australian dance. All the well-reasoned advice in the world won’t soothe the nerves, nor quell the hope.
“What I wanted to do was not come all this way for nothing,” Blankenship admits. “Even if I got cut, I wanted to show that I was…not, like, being too assertive or shoving myself in their faces, but showing that I was in the room. So, whatever that meant.”
Having “got a no” in 2022, Ballantyne returned for another try, eventually joining the Sydney Dance Company earlier this year. As she recounts, “One of the best pieces of advice I was given was to make eye contact with people. Really hold your ground, hold yourself and stay true to who you are. And if that means it’s a no from them, that might be for the better.”
As he prepares the ground for next year’s audition weekend, Cilli delves into his own experience. “A lot of the time, there are so many things in play that your talent and your incredible ability sometimes aren’t the deciding factors,” he states.
Looking back, he elaborates, “I’ve done my fair share of auditions, and I’ve gotten through in some and been cut in the first round in others; and it’s just really important to remember how all of those experiences feel.”
Perhaps channelling the experiences of his actor husband, he concludes, “In the end, what will be will be. Like, there’s a lack of control. All you can do is enjoy. I know that seems like something people say all the time. ‘Just enjoy yourself.’ But honestly, to dance you need to open your heart.”
On occasions, dance may break that heart; and this ache may indeed be the price of dreaming. But the dream is what drove you to the room and, as Cilli observes, “Everyone who makes the effort to get that point is an incredible dancer…and if we can remember that on the day, that’s an important pivot.”
Sydney Dance Company will be holding company auditions on 28 February and 1 March 2026. For more information, visit www.sydneydancecompany.com/about-us/auditions-jobs.
By Paul Ransom of Dance Informa.
Share this:
