auditions

dunkin donuts audition today. an audition to understudy celie in the broadway company of "the color purple" tomorrow. absorbing three scenes and two songs for that audition right now, and musicwise all they gave me was sheet music. i didn't have the money or the time to track down a pianist or find it in the performing arts library or locate a musical theater-obsessed friend with the original cast recording, which meant having to cough up twenty bucks for the cd. i should have been annoyed and some part of me was, i suppose. but ultimately, i was too grateful that i could afford to pay for it.

yes, it's true. being able to pay all my bills on time and having health insurance feels wierd. you know what else? having to learn this stuff all at once feels like i've entered a pie-eating contest. just thinking about doing a musical theater audition makes me a little queasy. no small wonder. when i go in, they know me or they've heard of me, so i've got to give them something of a performance and that means i have to know the lines and material i just got the night before, even if they sit there and say it's okay that i don't. i'm exhausted just imagining what i'd have to do, to pull that off. i mean, really. feh.

i remember what it was like when i first came to nyc. getting the audition, finding appropriate sheet music, learning the material, finding something decent to wear -- that was the tip of the iceberg. they wouldn't let me into the union auditions because i was non-union. i had to wait until they'd seen all of the union people on the list and then they'd say, we've seen enough, please leave your headshot in this box, thanks. or they'd say only the first ten people on the non-union list, thanks -- and i'd be number 11. or they'd say dancers who sing only, everyone else -- thanks. there was always that bouncy, overly enthusiastic thanks at the end, which to my ears sounded a whole lot like get out. funny thing, though. i got good at auditioning. i guess i had to, what with all of that going on.

i was working it off broadway and i was writing songs and in and out of bands while i was in and out of auditions like that. my non-union status went on for six years before i landed the first national tour of RENT on a straight-up non-union cattle call. i guess all those non-union wait-all-day-and-get-nothing auditions were preparing me for that one because it was a motherlode.

wow. why didn't i quit?

another day, another audition: A&E Lifestyles promo

i went to kipperman casting for this one. on the black hair front, i forgot my wig -- it was a very "my dog ate my homework" thing -- but it didn't really matter. broke my neck getting there because the weather was foul, there were no taxis and when i did happen to ambush one at a stop light, he wouldn't take me across town because of a water main break on 5th avenue. undaunted, i sprinted from lexington to very nearly 6th avenue to get there on time (who's out of shape?) only to leave when i realized that the room was filled with actors and i didn't have time to wait around. there was one black guy there. of course, we greeted each other immediately and because it was a husband-wife audition scenario, we assumed that they'd see us together. at an initial audition, they might mix it up for the sake of getting through it, but at a callback? no way. they don't think that it's realistic.

i very quickly realized that if i was good but if they didn't choose a black male counterpart for me, i wouldn't get the commercial.

i had to go -- and interestingly, so did the black man. we agreed without discussing it that we would return at the same time. i grabbed the sides, signed in, took the polaroid, filled out my card and gave it to the monitor with a promise that they'd be steady at it until at least 5:10pm. and then i made a hasty exit. (when i went to him to introduce myself, he said somewhat defensively, i know who you are. and i thought, okaaaay...)

when i crash landed into the office after 5pm, things had calmed down considerably but they were still going strong. the scenario was basically a couple who were growing through their home improvements. there were no lines, only several different scenarios that had me reacting to things that were happening around me. (and you know what? it was actually very funny stuff.) after a week of "no lines, just react", i was beyond ready for this. they ran out of guys towards the very end and i ended up going into the room with a beautiful asian woman and a wide-eyed perky looking brunette. the two of them took turns in the husband role, with the asian woman staying to play opposite me. it was a real eye opener, to watch their auditions. and i have to give it to the director and monitor, they had friendliness and energy to spare, in spite of the fact that it was after 6pm when i finally made my exit.

how did i do? only the camera knows for sure. but one thing is true: me doing a great job won't be the thing that gets me the part.

yeah, you guessed it

i got a callback for that Verizon commercial audition i did last week or so. a big yippee for me, for making it past the common herd. more details soon.

another day, another audition: verizon

they said local, regional. they said casual business attire. they also said that there was no copy. i knew what that meant: almost everyone would get typed out at a glance. still and all, i wanted to be a nice enough girl and make a genuine effort. i blew my hair out, put on a light camera-ready daytime beat, got into a dark grey cowl neck woolen dress and some flat comfortable boots and hit it. let's face it, it's too cold to be cute or impractical about these things. i suppose i could have changed clothes there but i was betting that they would use a medium shot (and i was right). the shoot date was in a week. there would be callbacks. cool, i said. but what i was really thinking was, i'm getting my hair done this weekend so if they want me, they'd better call me before sunday because i'm not undoing my china bumps once they're in and i've made that commitment -- especially when they're fresh. they pretty much undo themselves, anyway.

i walked into that oh-so-familiar space at House and rounded the corner and saw all of those uncomfortably well dressed actors pacing and fidgeting and glancing at each other furtively, and i thought i am so far removed from all of this, i may as well be on the moon. maybe i was unfazed because i had already done my first commercial late last year. i was over that hump. that can i do this? pressure was gone. sure, i was nervous, in the moment. but i was confident and i was also objective, so nerves really didn't matter. this wasn't going to make or break me but everyone around me was sweating bullets. it was almost laughable, the tension in the air. what was it? ah, yes. it was desperation.

i sat there and stifled a yawn as it dawned on me: i'm not desperate. you treat auditioning like a job, you do it full time, you'll book something eventually. it is what it is -- no more, no less. it's not magic. it's just life. some guy passed by me as i checked my make-up in the mirror and said, good luck. i laughed and said, it ain't up to me, mister. i do everything i can to do the best i can, with that in mind.

and what do you know? the woman who auditioned me was the one that saw me through the audition/callback process that ultimately landed me the ocean spray spot. everything comes back around and around, and always when i least expect it.

can't. shouldn't. won't.

my manager called me last night and asked me if i wanted to go to japan for six months. We have an ironclad agreement that he is not to call me for three basic things: cruise ships, regional/stock theater and disneyworld -- or any combination therein -- but he feels obligated to let me know what's out there. and evidently, mickey mouse is hiring in Tokyo.

But there was more: several months on a cruise ship and a philly production of caroline or change were waiting in the wings. how odd that in one phone call, he would tell me about all three things that I categorically refused to consider.

as he went on about the disney thing, i remember thinking, wow -- i've always wanted to live in a foreign country. but to tell you the truth, it was strange, listening to all the details: pay rates, per diem, LORT agreements. it felt like he was talking to someone else. Those are the kinds of opportunities I would have followed when I first came to the city. Until I began to develop my own ideas, I was at the mercy of this business, forever wondering what I was or wasn’t doing to make the phone ring and waiting around until it did. My strategy was to throw myself into the fray and say yes to everything. I was a roman candle, exploding in every direction, sure, I was exhausted and broke. but it felt so good to run after my dreams at full tilt that I really didn’t care. My successes shaped my goals and priorities. When the ideas I came up with were more interesting than the opportunities that were being presented to me, I began to say no more and more often until I hardly said yes at all.

Suddenly, here I was, going no-no-no all over again, without hesitation.

I know that I’m not a negative person but when the moment presents itself, I genuinely enjoy saying no – and I honestly don’t mind hearing it. I think it’s a freeing thing to say and to accept, as long as you’re objective about it. The word no has to find its way through a situation that the word yes never seems to know of. Yes gives it to me. No compels me to shift gears and find another way. And work harder.

it's not that i can't go to tokyo and do a show in disneyworld if someone offered me the part, or that I don’t want to take the gig. it's just that, at this juncture in my career, i would rather do commercials/tv/film, so I probably shouldn't. and that means i won't.

What it really boils down to is this: Say yes to what you really want. Say no to everything else.

well...

i called talentworks at about 4:30pm. did i get the commercial? weeeelll, they drawled, the people at ocean spray said they'd figure it out by "end of day" and it's not end of day yet. i say, oh, okay but i'm thinking, it's the end of my day. so i'm thinking, somebody is shining somebody on, but it ain't me. i didn't get it. and that was that.

about 30 minutes later, phil calls me. i say, are you calling to tell me i got it and he says, you got it and you didn't get it. huh??? it seems they want me to come back in tomorrow afternoon at 1pm to HOUSE and read lines. i'm thinking, lines? dollar signs pop out of my eyeballs like something out of a tex avery cartoon. you see, getting a national commercial with no lines that runs a lot means recieving a nice-sized sack of money when the quarterly payments start coming in. having lines in a national commercial that runs a lot, however, means you just won some kind of residual payment lotto. it's a money train, people. and it's got your name on it.

well. i'm still on hold and they want to hear me do lines. this should be interesting...

another day (some days ago) -- another (commercial) audition

a few weeks ago, i went into HOUSE for an ocean spray commercial. like most commercial auditions i've done in the past, it was an in and out situation, really. i've said it a jillion times before but it bears repeating -- there's a certain skillset that's required when it's time to say lines on camera and hit your mark, believe me, but most of the time, they look at you and decide whether or not they want to give you the job. seeing as how there's nothing i can do about how tall i am or how ethnic a face i have or how dark my skin is, there's never anything to get upset about when i don't get the gig. this audition was no exception. i came in and did my usual song and dance: put on minimal beat, had my picture taken, filled out the print out and signed in. then i pick up copy to figure out what they want me to do when i get in the room. once i'm in there, they occasionally fine-tune it. and that's it.

this time, i was to dance and have fun like i was at a cocktail party with friends, except i couldn't move my legs from the knees down because i'm supposed to be in a cranberry bog surrounded by rednecks. and yeah, that's not me interjecting that "surrounded by rednecks" line. that's what it actually said. now, i'm sure that when most people think of rednecks, they hear banjos playing somewhere in the distance as they're visualizing key scenes from deliverance. but when i think of rednecks, i think of archie bunker and jimmy the greek and president jimmy carter's much loved, much lambasted little brother billy. (actually, he was more of a good ol' boy, really. and that's not a redneck.) as a southerner who's lived in the north for quite a spell, i know firsthand that rednecks aren't just in the south -- they're absolutely everywhere. especially up here.

seeing that redneck line made me wonder just what they meant by redneck by putting it in there, especially since cranberries are typically grown in the northeast in this country. but i didn't wonder aloud. i wandered into the studio when my name was called, with a casually dressed middle aged white girl, where a smiling woman explained the scenario, turned the camera on us, slated us and cranked some music while staring at us on the monitor to her left. it's always funny to me, the way they're looking at me on the monitor and talking to me on the monitor and responding to me on the monitor and there i am, standing less than six feet away and they're not looking at me at all. and there i was, dancing without moving my legs to the strains of outcast, empty cup in hand, laughing and interacting with the other girl who was in the cranberry bog too, waving to the rednecks and wondering if they were waving back at me. hey ya, indeed.

yesterday i get a call from my agent phil at talentworks. surprise -- i'm on hold. that means they want to make sure that i'm available on the dates that they're supposed to shoot the commercial, because they might want me. to tell you the truth, i'm unfazed. i've been "on hold" before and not gotten the gig -- so often in fact that it felt as though my entire commercial audition experience was one gigantic hold button, with me dangling on the other end. but i keep going in for commercials because the money is basically a king's ransom. and the law of averages says that, like lotto, if i keep throwing my hat in the ring with this many near misses, i'm probably going to get one sooner or later. the question is, how long can i keep going in that room?

the obvious answer is, as long as it takes. because frankly, i'm way too hardheaded for any other option.