Vermont Magazine | Page 42

Sherman: Sherman: Are there any other moments like that? Nuggets of direction (within the choreography) that you can share? Fosse: There are certain steps that were given nicknames. And the nickname would come from the image given to the dancers. So in Sweet Charity, in “The Frug”, you see what they call “soft boiled egg hands,” because it’s like holding a soft boiled egg in your hands. It’s not a tight fist. It’s not an open hand. It’s not stiff, you know. A soft boiled egg stays in its form, but it’s kind of liquid in your hands. So there’s got to be a real softness, like finger play around it, you know? So you really go into that sensation of having a soft boiled egg out of the shell in your hand —and not squishing it—and not breaking it. And then how do you negotiate that ever changing weight in your hand, as it slides around a little bit? And then there’s the “broken doll legs”. There was a lot of [direction like] “move your tushy through a vault of whipped cream”. You’re not just going right, left, right, left. There’s a sensa- tion to it. And again, it changes everything about you when you start having images of what you’re doing. Sherman: Amazing. Now let’s focus on you. Tell me about your life growing up. Fosse: My mother made sure that I spent a lot of time outside of New York City, and I spent a lot of time with her out on Long Island. We would go beachcombing and clamming and then make spaghetti with clam sauce and white wine. There was also a social circle out on Long Island. A lot of these famous people with kids were doing the same thing. So the evenings were filled a lot with these fabulous people getting together. To me, it was normal to be at a dinner table with Gloria Steinem or Paddy Chayefsky. That was normal to me. So, my childhood was a combination of living my own sort of normal kid life of play dates and homework and after school activi- ties, as well as spending time in rehearsal studios and going to the theater. I used to love to go see Pippin. I would go see it all the time. And apparently, I’m told, some- times the stage manager would tell the cast “Fosse’s out there”. And it was me! But he knew that it would elevate their perfor- mance levels. You tend to get sloppy, when you’re doing eight shows a week for 40 VERMONT MAGAZINE a couple of years. You can get a little bit relaxed out there. And it’s not as fresh as it needs to be. I was 10, and I freely gave feedback and advice to my father. Wheth- er it was films or dance, what I liked, what I didn’t like, who was good, who wasn’t good, who was lazy, who was sloppy, who was fun to watch… I think he took my suggestions and insights very seriously. I would go see shows and come back and rat people out. I would tell him things like “so and so doesn’t dance full out when she’s in the back line. She only dances full out when she’s in the front.” And he would look down at his feet, shake his head, and chuckle. I don’t know what he would do with that information. But I think he knew that there was a real truth there. I was unfiltered. Sherman: When did you decide you really wanted to be a dancer? Fosse: I decided I wanted to be a danc- er when I was 13 years old. I was living with my father. I told him I wanted to be a professional dancer. He insisted I go to class immediately. And I said, “I can go tomorrow,” and he said “No - if you want to be a professional dancer, you have to go now.” He also told me he would rather I swallow flaming swords in the circus than become a professional dancer. Around the age of 40, I went to the circus and watched the lady swallow the flaming swords, and I was so moved by the fact that the audience was thrilled with her. She was overweight, she wasn’t particularly beautiful, and she had the spotlight on her - and the glittery dress and lots of makeup. And she did this silly thing of swallowing swords and juggling fire … and I understood what my father was saying. Because by 40, I wasn’t dancing anymore. And I understood what he meant. He meant, “If you want the ap- plause, if you want the spotlight, you’ll get a much longer life if you do something like swallow swords in a circus.” So he really impressed upon me that if that’s what I wanted to do, then I had to put all of my energy into that. It really was a great lesson that I learned from him in that there’s nothing worse than being mediocre. And there’s nothing worse than looking back in hindsight and saying, “I wonder if I had done it differently if I could have been better at it.” I then started dancing all the time, every day, almost every day. And I ended up going to North Carolina School of the Arts. Sherman:I know the FX series revealed that you were already doing drugs by then. Tell me about your dance career in relationship to the drug use. Fosse: I’m convinced I could have been a better dancer if I had not been utilizing drugs at all during those years. I don’t know that I ever would have been an amazing dancer or a famous dancer. But I do know I could have been a better dancer. I could have spent more time dancing. My concentration would have been better. And I believe my physical abilities would have been better. It’s very difficult to put on pointe shoes at 8 am when you were up until two o’clock in the morning doing bong hits. It really is difficult to do your best on four hours of sleep when you’re probably still kind of stoned. Sherman: So- were you able to have a dance career? Was it compromised? Fosse: I did have a dance career. I do be- lieve it was stunted by continued drug use. I was in the film A Chorus Line. And after that, everybody thought I was like part of the next Brat Pack. I was in Interview Mag- azine with Denzel Washington and Leah Thompson. And I think Robert Downey Jr. and Rob Lowe. And then I couldn’t get another job. I mean, I didn’t study my lines for auditions. I thought I could just pull it off. I’d stay up partying, and then I would think about what clothes I was going to wear to the audition instead of what was going to come out of my mouth at the audition. I just was not grounded in reality really. I did a Broadway show. I mean, yeah, sure, I worked. And then I went to Europe and danced in a show where I met my future husband. That’s when I sort of stopped doing drugs. The drugs were not really a heavy part of my story at that time, although they were still part of my story. Mostly marijuana. And so we started having children, and I didn’t smoke pot anymore. I drank some occasional beers or wine or something. And I felt like I had grown out of it in a sense. Or grown into a new place in my life, in which I felt really connected and not judged all the time. I grew up in my teens and 20’s feeling scruti- nized and judged, and I had to prove my- self over and over and over again. People were curious: being the daughter of