Daniel Jones Diary

The World in a Room

Merthyr to Melbourne

Working for a touring ballet company has meant I have had the chance to change in many diverse dressing rooms all over the world. From a converted leisure centre in Merthyr Tydfil, Wales, to the more extravagant Rod Laver arena in Melbourne, Australia, I have sat, or stood, in front of mirrors of all shapes and sizes, and prepared my ballet make-up, before stepping out in front of an awaiting audience. My most recent dressing room experience was at the Bristol Hippodrome, which unfortunately doesn’t host the most spacious of backstage areas.

The Bristol Hippodrome. Photo © Daniel Jones

Lists and Skips

When English National Ballet tours to a theatre, the costumes, sets, and technical crew arrive first. The next day, the performers arrive, of which I am one, and our first port of call is to check the notice board where we search for the theatre dressing room list. The list tells us which dressing room we are in, and who we are in a room with. Once you know your room you search for your skip; which is your travel box that contains make-up and practice clothes. With your skip in hand, you head to the dressing room where you find your name on a plastic tag with blue tac on the back. You choose a free place, and stick your plastic tag on your mirror, that’s if you are lucky enough to have a mirror.
The system usually works on a first come first served basis, but sometimes dancers save places for their friends by placing the plastic name tags on the chosen mirrors.

The World in a Room. Photo © Daniel Jones

Ballet Dressing Room Etiquette

Last week, in Bristol, English National Ballet premiered their production of Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s Manon. The cast of the production required more performers than the 64 resident dancers of the company, and so, dressing room space was extremely tight.
After inspecting the notice board, I noticed I was to be in the Principal dressing room (also known as Cabot) with nine other dancers. I was surprised, but probably not as surprised as the five Principal dancers that are used to using that particular dressing room.
Amazingly, we managed to cram ourselves, our costumes, wigs, make-up, shoes, and our practice clothes, into the dressing rooms without tripping over each other, or even falling out.
This may sound like a build up to a joke, but it isn't, it's merely an observation that I can't help but smile about - in that one small dressing room in Bristol, there was a German, an Austrian, a Russian, an Estonian, a Kazahkstanian, two Cubans, and three English Men. What did we all have in common? We all fell for ballet. Oh, and we are all experts in ballet dressing room etiquette.