When Should Performers Turn Down a Role?
Every dancer dreams of shining in a featured role. For Georgina Pazcoguin, an early opportunity at New York City Ballet came in the role of Chinese “Tea” in The Nutcracker. The ambitious young dancer in her—who wanted to rise to the occasion and make the most of every opportunity to step out of the corps—was excited. But something about the role didn’t sit right.
“I just knew that it felt weird,” says Pazcoguin, who later became a soloist with the company and co-founder of Final Bow for Yellowface, advocating for updates to offensive stereotypes in ballet, like those in many versions of The Nutcracker. At the time, she says, “the stakes felt very high approaching any rehearsal directors or even my boss. There was no one that shared a commonality in being mixed-race AAPI in leadership.” So she found another way forward. “I made a caricature out of the caricature,” she says, trying to “spin gold out of my own discomfort.”
Years later, she’d gained enough confidence in herself and her place in the company to make a rare request to be taken out of a ballet. The company was just back from COVID-19 lockdowns when a casting switch handed her another demanding role on a short deadline. “Knowing my body, I advocated for myself and did succeed in removing myself from that ballet,” she says. “I do feel like it had ramifications, and I think that’s okay.”
In a world with fewer contracts than aspiring dancers, and a long history of training dancers to silently acquiesce, it can feel taboo to express discomfort or refuse an opportunity. But artists sometimes have to contend with a role that seems culturally insensitive, exacerbates an injury, or otherwise feels wrong—and then weigh the costs of taking it on versus turning it down.
Clarifying Concerns
Writing can be “an invaluable tool” to help process what’s going on, says Jess Spinner, a health, nutrition, and lifestyle coach and former professional dancer. There’s a difference between a role you feel “a deep moral or ethical opposition to” and one that’s a stretch or a drag.
In the latter case, flip the perspective and ask yourself: “ ‘What is the opportunity in this role?’ ” Spinner says. “ ‘Is there a way I can think of it differently that mitigates some of the discomfort?’ ” Could it help you grow as a technician, artist, or person? Could you leave your mark and be proud of it?
“Drill down very specifically” to understand what’s bothering you, says Pacific Northwest Ballet artistic director Peter Boal. “Is it just that one passage where you’re asked to sing or asked to hold hands and look into so-and-so’s eyes?” he asks. “If we have the specifics, let’s see if we can work our way around that.”
Pazcoguin likes to sleep on it. “If I go to sleep, I clock it, and if it feels off, and I wake up the next morning and it still feels off, it needs some attention.” She also encourages young dancers “to reach out and talk about it and get advice.”
Understanding Risks
There’s a label that comes to Spinner’s mind when she imagines the risks of opting out: “difficult.” Fair or not, “you don’t want to be that dancer,” she says. She’d venture that those who do speak up tend to be more established and feel “secure, as much as one can in this industry.”
Spinner worked with one client whose “character was essentially being sexually assaulted onstage,” she says. The dancer, already established in her career at a forward-thinking company, raised her concerns. There were limitations on what could be changed in a decades-old ballet, but she felt heard and supported enough in interpreting the role her own way to move forward.
It’s only recently that Naira Agvanean, a Dutch National Ballet soloist who joined the company in 2008, has grown more confident using her voice. In her training, she learned “you shut up and you do it,” she says. And “at the end of the day, we’re still employees,” she adds. The job doesn’t involve picking and choosing on a whim. But when there’s a reason, “we should be able to talk about that.”
The stakes might include future casting or even a job. Dancers need to consider their company’s culture, leadership, and employment structure. The risks would loom especially large, Agvanean says, if “I was just starting in a company and I wanted to prove myself.”
Speaking Up
The leap from lockdown straight into a challenging role left Agvanean overwhelmed. “I was crying in the morning, crying at lunch, crying in the evening,” she remembers. “It wasn’t an easy decision, because I’m trained to go, go, go, push, push, push.”
But she knew she had to speak up. “I kept it simple. I explained how it was affecting me and that I wasn’t able to focus in the studio,” she recalls. “I didn’t feel like I physically could make it onstage.” Her artistic director was understanding, encouraging her to step away and take time off. When she returned three months later, “I was stronger than ever, mentally and physically,” she says. “Not long after that, I got promoted.”
To have a productive conversation, “go in as prepared as you can,” says Spinner. “Talk through what you want to say with a friend or someone else who you trust.” She suggests jotting down bullet points, role-playing different reactions, and focusing on “I” statements rather than accusatory ones.
Come to the table with creative solutions. “Dancers will say to me: ‘Here’s why I don’t feel that I should do this role. If it helps you, I could do this other role, or I don’t mind being cast more often in the other role,’ ” says Boal, who appreciates that dancers don’t ask often or flippantly. And when they do, “they will make suggestions to help me achieve what I need to as the person doing the casting and presenting the show.”
Boal usually hopes they’ll try a role in the studio first. He also cautions against waiting too long, as casting adjustments get trickier. “Come forward not with a decision but with a dialogue,” Boal says. Whether the result is changing casting, steps, or partners, everyone tends to leave feeling better, he says. “I don’t think there’s a director that wants to put someone onstage in a role that they’re miserable in or feel disrespected in.”
But dancers may ultimately need to accept professional risks to safeguard their physical, mental, or emotional health. “There is so much more to life than one role,” Pazcoguin says. “The soundness of one’s mind and spirit is worth more than any performance that is here today, gone tomorrow.”
