Last night I went to an audition that was very different from the last one I went to. Although the crowd really didn’t seem all that much bigger I know it was. It was conducted more like what I was used to from school and yet it seemed more foreign in ways.
When I arrived I was directed upstairs where I signed in and was assigned a number. After choosing one of the last chairs against the wall I put my number on my form and looked around the room. I recognized and waved at a girl from school. Then a guy from school walked in and I hugged and talked to him. When he sat down a few seats away I realized there was another guy from UM there, one who had graduated just as I started so we only knew each other from reputation. It was nice to finally meet him. So far, so good. The fear I had felt all afternoon of being an outcast in a group of strangers was quickly going away.
The lady next to me began talking to me. She was quite a bit older than I, but was not giving in to her age. She was in pretty good shape and had obviously “taken measures” to try and keep her aging at bay. Her lips had the pout of a bit too much collagen and they were smeared with very bright, red lipstick. Her hair was in a youthful cut and dyed jet black. Her clothes were body hugging and black and she wore very pointy-toed, very high healed leopard print pumps. She asked if I had auditioned before and I told her yes, but not there. She confided in me that she had never auditioned anywhere. She told me that once in high school she had done a play, so when she saw these auditions announced she decided to try out. She told me that no one knew she was there so that if it went horribly wrong she could just act like it never happened. She also confided that she was singing “Tea for Two” and that she had never heard it played on a piano. In fact, she continued, “I have never sung with a piano in my life!” I was getting very nervous for this lady. She seemed relaxed though!
She seemed envious that I knew so many of the young people in the room and I explained to her that I had gone back to school and just graduated. Most of these kids were my classmates. Then one of my friends from church who is closer to my age came in and again, the lady (we’ll call her something generic like Jane- oh wait, her name was Jane!) marveled that I knew so many people there. She began to talk about how she felt at our age we had to do things to push us out of our comfort zones or else we would just shrivel up and die. First off, I live outside of my comfort zone. I have not seen my comfort zone in years! Secondly, that is the second time in a couple of weeks that someone considerably older than me has said “we” when discussing aging issues. The other day in the shoe store a really old grandmother type was looking at some flowered Keds I was trying on and mentioned how she had just seen some super high heels a couple of rows over. She could not see how young girls could wear those super high heels. She said when they got to be “our” age they would not be able to walk. I told her I loved my heels and wore them most of the time. She walked off in a huff and I almost bought some hideous turquoise and silver stilettos just to prove I was not an old granny that only wore orthopedic shoes! (I came to my senses and put them back, but I did buy some cowboy boots before I left the store!)
Jane continued saying that she thought she would try learning to juggle next. I guess maybe all of this talk hit too close to home because she was starting to get to me! Luckily, our group was called and we headed downstairs to the backstage area to wait our turn. The guy sitting next to me offstage was looking at a piece of notebook paper written on with bright red marker. He turned to some of us and said, “Do you think it is OK that I did not learn my monologue? I am just going to read it.” One of the other girls in my group said, “Well, I learned mine.”
I was so fascinated with the people around me that I never gave my audition much thought. I saw the guy from school getting into character and knew I should be doing the same. The characters in my song and in my monologue are so different it makes it hard to transition. Oh well, too late to fix that now! When the guy with the written monologue went up I realized he also had no music. I listened as he read, then sang acappella. My honest thought was, well I may not be the best here, but at least I am more prepared than that!
Then it was Jane’s turn. She did her monologue but I really could not hear it. She then began to sing and about 3 measures in she stopped. She was lost. She apologized and told all of the directors watching her that she had never auditioned before and had never sung with a piano. Then she gathered her music and left the stage. As she walked back to where we were all sitting she said, “That didn’t go very well!” I smiled at her not knowing what to say. After all, with all of my years of training my audition could still go just as poorly!
My school friend went next and he was amazing! I knew he would be! After he sang and did his monologue to roars of laughter, I heard a director ask him why he had not checked an interest in a particular show. He told the director he was not available at that time and the director was obviously disappointed! It must be so nice to be wanted! As my friend came off of the stage we high-fived and it was my turn.
I tried to remember everything I had been taught. I warmly greeted the pianist. We discussed my music, the tempo, etc. She jokingly groaned about the fast tempo and I apologized in a laughing, friendly way. I stepped out and introduced myself and just as I took a breath to do my monologue, she began to play my music. I was so thrown! And as I tried to switch characters (remember I told you the two pieces were VERY different!) and begin singing I almost threw up! I sang- if you can call it that- and then did my monologue. By this time I was ready to cry. None of it was any good, but I smiled, said thank you, thanked the accompanist who had done a good job on a difficult piece and left the stage.
My criteria has always been that if I do not fall down and I remember my words it is a success. Everything past that is gravy! But I had really hoped I had progressed beyond settling for just that. I guess not- I did not fall down and in spite of changing my song 45 minutes before my audition, the last minute cuts to make my monologue only 45 seconds long as specified (and then they did not time us) and the mix up in the order I performed my pieces, I remembered all of my words. So I guess I have to say it was a success. But I really didn’t feel like it was!
We waited outside. We were told the callbacks would be put up on a board in the lobby. Basically with so many people and so many shows to cast, this was just a quick look to separate the boys from the men. Then we go back for callbacks at different days for different shows where the real decisions will be made. They did not wait to see others, they just put up our group’s callbacks immediately. I got one call back for the show I had really gone there to audition for, but in the past month or so I had read one of the other shows and fallen in love with it. I had hoped my bad singing had not cost me since the other show was not a musical. In fact I changed my song from a “pretty” song to more of an acting song just because of the other show. But alas, it was not to be. I left there with mixed feelings. Feelings no one outside of the “business” seems to understand. You want to be good, you want to be chosen, you want to feel like you were appreciated.
I left feeling let down in myself. I left feeling that maybe the one professor who hated me was right. I felt that maybe my father, who had called that morning and who, as usual, had upset me and made me doubt myself, was right. I felt blessed to have so many friends at the audition who are fun and positive. (One was there to congratulate me on the one callback.) I felt sad that I never show what I can really do until I get comfortable with a cast and a part. My auditions always stink! But auditions are how you get to be in a cast and get comfortable with a part! I was glad to have met new people and talked to some real characters. I was sad that I would not be part of telling the story of the new play I had discovered. I was excited to get the one callback, but upset to think that was possibly based on friendship and not my talent. And then the old feelings of “do I even have any talent?” came back to haunt me. I thought about how badly I could screw up my callback and had to turn on the radio in the car full blast and quit thinking altogether.
I met Tim for dinner and a drink. Maybe I need to start drinking before the auditions instead of after! I tried to be cheery, but that didn’t last long. I know he doesn’t get all of this angst. I know I must come off as very dramatic. As I used to say about my fellow students who were always overly dramatic- what do you expect, we’re actors! So today is a new day. I am back working my lines for PICNIC and getting a little R&R before tech week. I am trying to put all of this out of my mind. I spent last night thinking I need to cut my losses and never audition again. Then I think about how much I truly love being on that stage and especially being backstage with all of the other actors and I realize that auditions are the torture we must endure to be a part of the joy of theatre.
