The Artistry of New York’s Litefeet Subway Dancers

Subway Scene Screen Shot | Episode 8 | 59 Days in New York

59 Days in New York Subway Scene

I may be a sucker for loving this, but one of my favorite things is a good subway performance.

The love affair started when I moved to New York in February 2013. One of my first days in the city, I was having a particularly rough morning. I had pulled an all-nighter to complete my application for the graduate musical theatre writing program at Tisch, I was coming down with a nasty bug, and I was running late to my internship. But then, a small trio with two guitars, a set of maracas, and spirited voices, walked into the subway car. After a serenade of “Forget your troubles, come on get happy,” I was a few dollars poorer, but smiling.

Since that magical commute, I’ve seen some remarkable subway shows from violinists, singers, drummers, and “Show Time” dancers. In spite my love of these subway acts, however, I suppose part of me saw performing on the subway as a desperate act — something an individual might try if they had few other outlets. At least that’s how I portrayed Amy’s feeling about it: “I’ll even sing on the subway if I have to,” she tells the Roommate in Episode 7. As though performing on the subway was the lowest she could go!

For Episode 8, however, I pulled in a very talented group of dancers to perform in 59 Days in New York. Named WAFFLE (We Are Family For Life Entertainment), these guys were the authentic “Show Timers” – the kind of Litefeet dancers known for their pole flips and hip hop moves. Most of the group had performed on the subway since their early teen years, and now in their twenties, were quite the pros. They had even been featured in the New York Times! To them, subway performing was no act of desperation – it was a career and a lifestyle.

What struck me most about the group was the incredible precision and strong entertainment culture they maintained. Without official websites and an unconventional performance space to my stage-bound mindset, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But these gentlemen were savvy. They knew exactly the best hours to perform to avoid traffic for filming (between 10:00 am and noon) and where to perform (deep in Brooklyn). They also knew on which side of the car the doors would open – every.single.stop. along the Q train. For setting up camera, that information was invaluable!

59 Days in New York Deshawn
After we filmed the subway sequence, dancer Dashawn delivered a short talk on safety.

These guys had mastered the subway, we could tell. But what got me the most was one comment from dancer Dashawn. During the shoot, we had to switch trains because the Q train went above ground – a less ideal route for doing multiple takes. During a sequence, we asked Dashawn to repeatedly swing and kick from a subway pole to get the camera angle just right. About 10 takes in, Dashawn said his hands were getting sore. The poles on the F train were different enough that he had to alter his typical grip to execute the move. I was shocked that anyone could tell the difference between the New York City subway poles. But when I thought about how awkward a new piano can feel in your hands or how a different floor can affect your dancing, I started to sympathize.

WAFFLE also impressed me in our choreography discussions. When we tried to relay what general actions we had in mind for them to perform, the guys were quick to demonstrate and provide the corresponding choreographic names. In a talk about buying time while Amy stood in the foreground, the guys suggested doing a “fake out” – or a simple action that would fool the audience into thinking they weren’t any good. After the “fake out,” the dancer would follow up with an impressive move. Hearing them talk about “fake outs” reminded me of working with the world-renowned clown Chuck Sidlow. A comedic genius, he would tell me about the importance of building up the audience’s expectations with similar tactics. It occurred to me that these guys had a great grasp of how to work the audience – and considering how tough hardened New Yorkers can be, kudos to them!

Having a good audience understanding is crucial to any successful performance. But when we finally watched the guys dance, they blew us out of the water with their talent. As WAFFLE leader Andrew balanced his body out perpendicular to the subway pole, I could only think about how much upper body strength he had to cultivate to create that piece of choreography. And as the guys flipped and danced with their baseball caps, you could see the same kind of meticulous precision and dedication that go into all high-level art forms.

During the filming process, we learned that the police are now cracking down on any kind of subway performing. In working with WAFFLE, however, I wish the City would recognize the artistry that goes into this dance culture. Maybe I’m not a soured enough New Yorker yet, but as a fellow creator trying to make it here, I find the call of “Show Time” inspiring. Their commitment represents the kind of artistic dedication I would like to maintain in my own work.

Four Lessons from a Newbie’s First New York Audition

Amy auditioning | 59 Days in New York
Amy auditioning | 59 Days in New York
Amy auditioning in Episode 9 of 59 Days in New York.

Whenever I go home and visit my old music teachers and friends, they all ask expectantly, “Are you auditioning?”

Every time they ask, I offer up my standard line: “I am writing and producing my own material, as opposed to spending time performing someone else’s work.” Or something like that.

Even though I have that line, there are plenty of times I feel like I ought to be auditioning. I mean, what kind of New York musical theatre performer can I be without the regular audition to kvetch about?

In producing Episodes 8 and 9, however, I am happy to say that I was able to get my first taste of the New York audition experience — albeit on the other side of the audition table. Now if and when I start auditioning in the City, I’ll have some valuable insight to help me through. Four insights, to be exact:

1. Being a full-time actress is the hardest thing in the world.

Every person who has considered a performing career knows the odds of getting regular paid work aren’t good. With acting, you hear all the horrific statistics. My theatre teachers at Interlochen told our class of eager, young musical theatre performers that 92% of actors are out of work at any one time. For me though, the number never registered until I posted my first casting notice on Backstage.com, looking for a young woman in her early twenties to play Amy’s New Roommate and a middle-aged caucasian lady to play Amy’s Mother.

As I released the notice, I was not prepared for the onslaught of talent that applied to be a part of 59 Days. As over 400 emails piled into my inbox over the next two days, I finally started to understand just how impossible this industry really is. The vast majority of responses came from Amy’s New Roommate candidates – most of them boasting impressive resumes, beautiful headshots, and all willing to put in a days worth of work for $50.00. Of the mothers, on the other hand, only some 20 women applied. I was shocked at the difference in numbers. Either women in their 40s through 60s were not interested in webseries work – or more likely, relatively few actress were able to stick it out long enough to have a midlife career.

Another thought also depressed me as I sorted the headshots. Mandira, our 59 Days in New York director, and I had already decided that we would only call back 20 women because we could only afford to rent an audition room for two hours. With 20 women to see, I was sad to realize only 5 percent of the 400 would even get a call back. If this was the reality of my low-budget webseries, I could only imagine what the odds must be like for theatre gigs, television ads, or God forbid, big budget movies.

2. Sometimes, the unexpected person is the perfect fit!

Amy's Mother | 59 Days in New York
Amy’s Mother calls in Episode 8.

Narrowing down 400 women to just twenty candidates was no easy task. But on audition day, making the final selection was even trickier. We had excellent candidates for the New Roommate and Amy’s Mother parts – all friendly, professional, and talented.

At the end of seeing all our scheduled candidates, however, there was still one blonde woman sitting in the hall, carefully not looking at us. We had ten minutes to spare in the rented room — and wanting to get our money’s worth, Mandira and I awkwardly asked if she would like to audition for the part of Amy’s Mother.

Luckily for us, the blonde woman in the hall turned out to be an improv teacher — and not only was she game to audition, she was fabulous! After she kept us laughing hard through the whole audition, we knew she was the right mother for 59 Days.

Coincidence, or some Dolly Parton magic, I know not…

3. Looks matter – but not in the way you think!

One of the things that weirded me out during the audition process was realizing that looks mattered. Even stranger, it was how the person looked compared to me that made a difference. In casting Amy’s mother, we had more constraints in the appearance department. But even for Amy’s New Roommate, looks were a big consideration.

For the New Roommate character, I primarily wanted a person who had a “wide eyed” feel, much like Amy at the beginning of the webseries. Apart from that criteria, I left the casting call open to all types of young women. Secretly, however, I wanted to cast a woman who would physically contrast Amy. The contrast, I hoped, would suggest that the 59 Days in New York experience was not just for Amy alone (or even women like Amy), but built on more universal themes. In my head, that nixed a lot of the white, blonde young women with medium-length hair from the list of 400, even if the posting didn’t specify it.

On the audition day, the same concerns about looks returned. “She was fantastic,” I would say, but then Mandira would point out that the same talented actress did not visually pair as well with me as another.

Going through 59 Days, I understand better why my old acting teachers used to say: It’s not all about your talent or even your looks. Sometimes, it’s about looking good compared to the person next to you.

4. If you don’t hear from the casting director, please don’t take it personally.

I remember in 7th grade when I had just moved to a new city and went to my second casting call at the local community theatre. I gave a pretty decent audition, my 7th grade self thought. And, since I had already gained a reputation for my voice in my last hometown, I was sure I was a shoe-in.

But weeks went by, and I didn’t hear anything after the audition. I was devastated. I cried to my mother, “At least they could tell me ‘no.’ That would be so much better than waiting and never hearing.”

Knowing what that felt like, I wanted to write to the people who auditioned for 59 Days and tell them personally that we had chosen another actress. Yet, in the days following the audition, I went straight into recording tracks and filming. There was hardly enough time for me to notify the people that we cast!

I’m sure these women are hardened professionals and scarcely noticed my poor correspondence skills. But to my 7th grade self and that part of me who might still feel a little bit, in her heart of hearts, the same way today, I just want to encourage some understanding. The person behind the casting table is human too. Please forgive her!