See you next week.
Gen
Clarissa Gregg
Soooo......I had this audition for a musical. They wanted a 2 minute comic monologue, and at the time the only 2 minute I had was a LITTLE racy. Not THAT racy, we are all theatre people, right-open minded? The first thing that happens when I walk in is a HUGE roach runs across the floor in front of the stage. I don't think the auditioners could see it, because they were back a few rows. Needless to say, that was a LITTLE unsettling to begin with. Then I realize that that the people I am auditioning for could LITERALLY be my grandparents. Definitely not hip, open minded theatre types, who would get a kick out of the word "pussy" used at the most hilarious point of my monologue. Sooo...I grit my teeth and launch into my monologue and hear a collective,! yet almost silent gasp when I get to the word "pussy" ( even though the line is REALLY funny, I promise!). Then the accompanist-who also looks like my grandpa) BUTCHERS my song ( I am sure he was so taken aback by the word "pussy" that he couldn't concentrate). Then, even though the audition listing said NOTHING about movement or dancing, the choreographer comes up on stage and has me do a few moves, including seeing how high I can kick, with my back turned to the other auditioners, since it is summer and I am wearing a knee length dress and no tights. I was laughing soooo hard as I walked to my car and thinking--at least it would make a GREAT story.....(and maybe an even funnier monologue?!)
Jenn Remke
The first time I ever auditioned for a film here in Chicago, I went in, did my monologue (which I didn't think was that bad), they said "Thank You" and I walked out the door. As soon as I closed the door I could hear the auditors burst into laughter (my monologue was dramatic). I was devastated. I cried for a full day and wanted to give up acting then and there. The next day, they called me in for a call back. I said " Really?! Because, I heard you laugh at me" and the woman said that I must have been mistaken. I went to the call back, thinking the whole time that perhaps they just wanted to laugh at me some more but when I got there it really was only between me and one other girl. A week later, they called and cast me. I unfortunately didn't take the role because something else had come up by then. But it was a true lesson and I've tried hard since to not take what happens in those auditions personally.
Whitney Hayes
A couple of years ago, I had an audition for a company that I was in love with. Thoroughly prepared, clad in movement attire and resume in hand I scurried off to my audition.
Sitting with my fellow auditionees, I trouble-shot my performance piece in my head. I had tailored it specifically to this theater company, to their season, to the director, everything. I knew it cold. It was funny. It was physical. It was musical!
The moment of truth came. I breathed, introduced myself to the auditors and began my piece. The performance went nearly seemlessly, minus the teeny moments of nerves that may have been recognized only by me, but nevertheless.
Finished and relieved, I said "Thank you."
The auditor smiled and said, "Thank you Whitney. This is an impressive list of special skills you have here. You've got some circus skills; that's great. Hey....what does Pittsburgh sound like?"
Sidebar: I had lived in Pittsburgh, PA for a year. Folks there have a distinct accent. Having become comfortable using it, I had added it to my dialect list on my resume.
I was taken completely aback. What does Pittsburgh sound like? Don't screw up. What does he mean? What does Pittsburgh sound like? Searching for a creative response that would exhibit improvisation ability and thoughtfulness, my brain squeezed hard and I proudly stated, "Pittsburgh sounds like .....steel........hitting.......................................................steel."
Starting to giggle, he said, "No. I meant the dialect."
Laura Ciresi Starr
Once I had a casting director tell me on the spot that I wasn't going to be in her show because my monologue just wasn't strong enough. and then she said, "but if you want to come back and audition for me in a year, don't worry, I won't remember you." It was harsh, but some of the best auditioning advice I've ever gotten. It's sometimes helpful to keep in mind that most people don't get cast because they just don't make an impression in a particular audition piece. Only a few are truly bad. and if you just don't make an impression, nobody is laughing at you behind your back or thinking, "What a bad actor!" or anything like that. They've got other things on their minds and are more likely to just forget a forgettable audition after they've seen dozens or hundreds of others (also mostly forgettable). And thus, you can easily try again another day with a perfectly clean slate.
Laura Ciresi Starr
Once I had a casting director tell me on the spot that I wasn't going to be in her show because my monologue just wasn't strong enough. and then she said, "but if you want to come back and audition for me in a year, don't worry, I won't remember you." It was harsh, but some of the best auditioning advice I've ever gotten. It's sometimes helpful to keep in mind that most people don't get cast because they just don't make an impression in a particular audition piece. Only a few are truly bad. and if you just don't make an impression, nobody is laughing at you behind your back or thinking, "What a bad actor!" or anything like that. They've got other things on their minds and are more likely to just forget a forgettable audition after they've seen dozens or hundreds of others (also mostly forgettable). And thus, you can easily try again another day with a perfectly clean slate.
1 comment:
About five years ago I was doing the grad school audition circuit motivated by the notion that if I got an MFA I could teach acting or theatre if the "acting thing" really never took off. I was also very attracted to the idea that I could go to school to study acting for two or three years with a full ride scholarship plus a living stipend in exchange for teaching beginning acting courses at the college.
I had a pretty great shot of getting into Penn State, a program that offered a full ride and living stipend. I had blown them away with my auditions in Chicago (Kurt Naebig happened to coach me on the monologues I was performing) and received a callback which required me to travel to the school for the weekend. They helped pay for my ticket out there and put me up with a grad student for the weekend. We had to take part in a number of workshops and auditions with different professors and faculty.
The whole weekend went perfectly. I impressed them with my openness and ease with the movement and voice workshops even though I'd never had any real experience or training in the areas before. Everything was going perfectly.
It came time to perform my monologues to a panel of the higher-up faculty. It no longer mattered how impressed they were with my earlier auditions, or how I performed in the movement and voice workshops, or how smart the questions I asked were. This was the do or die moment... the moment to decide if I was going to be one of the lucky 7 (out of 30 callbacks who came for the weekend) who would be invited to attend Penn State on a full ride, with a living stipend.
I felt good. Other auditioners seemed tightly wound and like they were really feeling the pressure of this moment. I felt relaxed! While I knew it was important, I also knew that I knew my shit. I was going to go in, put them at ease with my ease, and then give them a short one-man show that they could let entertain and move them.
My name was called. I walked into the room with casual and confident determination, smiled at the judges and made eye contact with each of them (in a non-creepy, non-desperate cool way), introduced myself and began to introduce my pieces. "Hi! I'm pretty sure I've met all of you but my name is Craig Thompson" insert goofy smile, "and in the first piece I will be playing..."
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I completely blanked on my characters name. Not that the characters name is of much consequence, but it was part of introducing my pieces. I had never blanked like this before. And it wasn't a lightning fast wup-oh-crap-I-forgot-guess-I-gotta-cover kind of moment. It was blatantly obvious that I had no f-ing clue what my character's name was.
My entrance, eye contact, and goofy smile were completely negated in a matter of two seconds.
And I wouldn't give up on it. I stould there silently for the first 4-5 seconds (no exaggeration) hoping it would come to me. It did not. I thought I'd try to save it by letting them in on my inner monologue. "What is my character's name?" I said aloud. No chuckles from them. Just uncomfortable and unbelieving stares...
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another 3-4 seconds (no exaggeration).
"JOHN! John... how could I forget that?" I said with assuredness. I knew damn well that this was not the right name. They knew it too, but I forged ahead.
I performed the rest of my introduction and my monologues. It wasn't the best performance I'd ever given of the two monologues. But it WAS solid.
I did not get one of the seven spots. I WAS offered a spot as one of three wait-listed candidates who might get called if anyone turned down their spot. No one in their right mind would turn down the opportunity. I am convinced that it was my completely indiscreet brain fart... forgetting my characters name, combined with my piss poor recovery of the situation. I mean... "JOHN!" give me a break.
Anyway, it's a good thing I didn't get in because this callback at Penn State happened just about two months after I started dating Gen. IF I had been accepted, I am 90% sure I would've gone. Might Gen have come with me? Maybe. I have no idea. But I am a believer in the idea that "everything happens for a reason". If I hadn't forgotten my name at that moment, my life would probably not be exactly how it is right now. And I love my life exactly how it is right now.
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