CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS.

Meet the dancers who keep long-running Broadway shows on their toes

DURING A RECORD HEAT WAVE IN May, Bill Burns is onstage at the Broadhurst Theater rehearsing Broadway dancer Mary Ann Lamb in the angular, coolly seductive moves of Fosse. Five blocks north at the Eugene O'Neill Theater, Denis Jones is guiding the understudies of The Full Monty through their show-stopping strip routine. [] Both Burns and Jones exemplify that below-the-radar group of Broadway gypsies who keep the choreography for their long-running shows in cracker-jack shape and are, for the most part, invisible to the general audience. They are called dance captains--some of the most unacknowledged people in musical theater. With more than twenty dance-heavy musicals running on Broadway at the moment and fifteen touring nationwide, their importance has grown considerably. [] "The dance captain is the keeper of the flame," says Brad Musgrove, a veteran Broadway dance captain, who now oversees Susan Stroman's staging and choreography, complete with a chrous line of Nazis in perfect Rockette formation, for the mega-hit The Producers. "It's your job to ensure that when the director and the choreographer go away after opening night, everyone is doing what they were originally intended to do. And you have to keep it fresh. You're the warden."

Kelli Barclay, the dance captain for the recent revival of 42nd Street, rattles off her job description in a thick Texas drawl: "I have to protect the integrity of the show, help the covers, put new people into the show, and I am an emergency swing." (A swing dancer, which the dance captain usually is, covers several parts in a show and must be ready to go onstage at the drop of a tap shoe.) Helping in the audition process for new dancers is normally part of the gig as well.

Dance captains are a special breed, for not only do they possess the physical prowess of a dancer, but they must be blessed with enough memory bytes to retain an ample library of information. They are usually chosen by the choreographers or are recommended by stage managers, who work tightly with the dance captains in keeping the show on course. "To be asked to be a dance captain is an honor," says Lamb, who never sought the job herself, having gone through three dance captains for Fosse. She's now returning to dance in the show after a run with Seussical. "You have to be multitalented and you also have to dedicate your entire life to the show."

"I choose my dance captains very carefully," says Rob Marshall, the choreographer and co-director of Cabaret, now in its fourth year on Broadway. "They're almost like choreographers in the making. I look for someone who has an eye for the whole, instead of just themselves. I watch which dancers are watching the scenes as well as the numbers. I also look for somebody who has great administrative qualities," adds Marshall, who started his choreographic career as a dance captain.

Choreographer/director Lynne Taylor-Corbett named Kim Craven as her dance captain for the national touting company of Swing! "Kim isn't just a dance captain. She is a nurturer, a coach with a deep appreciation of the talent of her fellow performer," says Taylor-Corbett, who never personally aspired to be a dance captain. ("I would have been a terrible one!" she confesses.)

Craven admits that functioning as dance captain for Swing! was not an easy task because she had never had a drop of experience in the show's swing style of the 1940s. "The first few days of rehearsal, I wanted to cry," says Craven. "It was like ice skating, like nothing I knew. Everything I had known up until now I could throw out the window." To her credit, Craven persevered and now maintains the show's seven swinging couples in precise partnership. Most dance captains, however, are thoroughly steeped in a choreographer's style before taking on the burdens of a demanding show. Kelli Barclay had worked closely with choreographer Randy Skinner for several years before tackling the demands of 42nd Street, with its thirty-six dancers time-stepping nonstop throughout the show.

The amount of material relegated to memory is staggering for most dance captains. Bill Burns, who has more steps per capita in Fosse to recall than probably any other Broadway dance captain, refers to his book of notes, thicker than the Old Testament. Burns also joined the show after it had been running for over a year. "I had to learn everyone's material, which is a lot," he says. "We have to cover over a hundred tracks, and teaching all the understudies is a big deal in the beginning." (A track is a specific role, down to the footsteps, of a performer, including choreography, singing, costume changes, microphone usage, partnering, and props.)

Fosse (which was to have closed on Broadway August 25) may hold the record for dance steps, but The Lion King is easily the most complex show to manage on Broadway. The performers not only have to dance many numbers, but there are also numerous masks, puppetry, and makeup changes to account for. Ruthlyn Salomons oversees forty-three performers in the show and has been given the title of dance supervisor. Even though she does not perform as a swing, her job is formidable.

"The hours are long and it is heavy on information," says Salomons. "There is so much detail, volumes and volumes of detail. The show is ensemble driven, which means lots of rehearsals." Making sure that the swings can perform any of six different roles or double up on tracks is part of the challenge.

"They have to know to go down this set of stairs, get a tissue from this box, then go over to that corner and get a lipstick from this person. It's that precise," says Salomons.

Watching the show and performing is a juggling act for most dance captains, particularly when they have to dance as a swing up to eight times a week. Denis Jones performs a regular role in The Full Monty as a Chippendales-type stripper at every show and understudies three lead characters as well. "I have six tapes running at once about where everybody is, and so it's hard to just think about yourself. My mind and eyes might be scanning the stage, so it's hard to compartmentalize." The upside to being onstage with the cast, say some dance captains, is the hands-on contact you don't get from watching from the audience.

THE DELICATE BALANCE OF KEEPING A SHOW clean and retaining its freshness, particularly after a six-month run, is one of the trickiest aspects of the profession.

Liam Burke reins in more than forty cast members (including children) in Susan Stroman's production of The Music Man with a gentle but firm leash.

"We all like to have fun onstage; it's important," says Burke. "At the same time, it's important to execute the steps cleanly eight times a week. I see a lot of technique thrown away and corners cut in the choreography. I come from the old school of pedagogy."

On the other hand, Jeff Siebert, the dance captain for Marshall's production of Cabaret, has to make sure his Kit Kat Klub girls look like amateurish floozies: "It's a seedy club where the girls are not supposed to be polished dancers ... they're drug addicts and prostitutes. The choreography has built-in mistakes, and there is a lot of stuff that is purposely not clean."

And how about approaching those performers to give notes? A dance captain appears to need superhuman mediating skills when dealing with touchy, fragile, or volatile theatrical egos. "I would say I am part diplomat, psychologist, dance captain, and best friend," says Burns, who senses that some performers are on edge when they see him enter the dressing room to give corrections.

Marshall took on his first dance captain job at age 23 in The Rink and realized quickly that some people, including the star performers, are naturally receptive and some are defensive. "Liza Minnelli was in the show right before going into the Betty Ford Center. She was unbelievably generous and lovely, but she wasn't well. And then I had the most disciplined performer in the world--Chita Rivera. It was a real balancing act."

According to Jones of The Full Monty, "You really have to learn how to approach people so they aren't hearing, `You're wrong' or `You screwed up.'"

Fortunately for most of the dance captains, the problem of wayward performers is rare and there is a union-determined process whereby cast members are warned of shortcomings. Nonetheless, Salomons has had numerous discussions with some of the younger, inexperienced dancers in The Lion King about performance inconsistency. "If it becomes a problem after all that discussion, then it's a matter of sitting down in the office with the production stage manager and it becomes a discipline issue. If it's a problem after that, then it goes to the producers," explains Salomons.

So with all the headaches attached to the job of dance captain--replacing dancers due to knee surgeries, blizzards, and concussions from partnering accidents, the impossibly endless hours in the theater, and the unenviable position of being the choreography cop--what are the rewards of the job? According to Actor's Equity, the standard production contract, both for Broadway and touring companies, provides for an extra base incremental fee of $300 per week for a dance captain. But it's hardly about the money. The real joys, the dance captains say, come from seeing dancers realize their potential to win over an audience. And, of course, the dance captains get to work intimately with luminous choreographic talents like Susan Stroman, Garth Fagan, Jerry Mitchell, Lynne Taylor-Corbett, Randy Skinner, Ann Reinking, and Kathleen and Rob Marshall.

"I love dancers, but I don't want to get gushy," says Barclay. "I feel fortunate to be surrounded by so many people who love what they do. It makes my job so easy."

"Having the choreographers trust you is really remarkable," says Musgrove. "It's daunting and frightening at first, but it's really a pretty special feeling."

Former American Ballet Theatre dancer Joseph Carman is a New York City writer for Dance Magazine and a contributor to The New York Times and The Advocate.