Dancers shine in N.Y.

NEW YORK — On Monday night, just before the trumpets heralded the start of the final gala of the New York City Dance Alliance's national championship, the girls of the Dance Club of Orem were bending themselves into funny groups, hips high, smiles stretched, as Allison Thornton, their teacher, snapped a dozen cameras in turn. It was a giggly beginning to the end of the nine-day competition, which — part sleepover party, part "American Idol" — had drawn 1,500 young dancers eager to test themselves on a New York stage.

The days — most 12 hours and longer — were filled with an unremitting sequence of dance classes, rehearsals and mock auditions.

At 8:17 Thursday morning, midway through the competition, the darkened grand ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria, where the championship was held, already had a midnight feeling. Light spilled from the stage into a long, red-carpeted hallway, where Alexia Meyer, 10, sat quietly on the floor, her bouncy ringlets momentarily stilled.

Moments later, she was onstage doing her solo number, "I'm the Greatest Star." Despite the success of her split leaps, Alexia, who had awoken at 6, returned to the dressing area in tears, her small arms shaking. "They just put a lot on themselves and get really stressed," said Tatia Meyer, her mother.

Competition is part of the world of professional dance, and many dancers say that if properly channeled, it can be helpful. "My little edge of looking at someone and saying, 'I can do that,' is not negative," said Danny Tidwell, 20, a former alliance winner and now a corps de ballet dancer with American Ballet Theater. "It's exciting."

Harder than losing to others is constant competition with oneself; as a dancer, your greatest rival is your own unruly body.

"It's so hard to speak with your body," said Travis Wall, 17, Tidwell's brother, who has won top honors at the alliance twice. "That's what dancers do. We tell stories with our bodies, without using words. A simple look to the audience could communicate so much, just like a sentence."

But such soulfulness often took a back seat to virtuosity at the competition, where legs already fully extended were pulled higher, to achieve a hip-splitting distension. Kicks were slammed up, then slowly lowered. Turns happened fast and tight, like those of figure skaters.

On Sunday, the Dance Club of Orem won the National Mini Critics' Choice Award for its group number, "Numb," while back in Salt Lake City, a team member, Tori Schmanski, 14, the victim of a car crash, entered her third week in intensive care. Her prognosis remained unclear.

"We just hope and pray and keep the faith," her father, Tim Schmanski, said by phone.