shoop and auditions

I just did a stint watching some auditions for a large group of theatres in the fairly major city in which I live. Now I'm not, nor am I ever likely to be, in any position to help anybody's career, but I did notice a few things about auditions that other actors and actresses might find helpful. Plus one thing that won't help anybody.

1. Nobody needs to see you warm up. We all know you're not warmed up. Introduce yourself and the monologue or monologues, and get on with it.

2. A lot of people who did especially well at the auditions only did one monologue, as opposed to two "contrasting" ones. (Note: Shakespeare and not-Shakespeare isn't always a real contrast.) If you have a three-minute monologue that you do especially well, then go ahead and do it.

3. Try to get to know yourself a bit. I saw one young lady, maybe in her early 20s or a little younger, do a screechingly horrible version of Martha in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf." My one note was "ouch." That's because if you're a young lady in your early 20s or a little younger, you're not Martha in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf." Another youngster sounded really unconvincing saying the f-word in a monologue that highlighted the f-word. If you're not comfortable swearing, don't do monologues with swearing in them. Try to figure out if you're the comic relief, the gay best friend, the leading man, the ingenue, or whoever. Or better yet, get someone fairly knowledgeable to tell you.

4. Use your surroundings when appropriate. One young man was doing Boy Willie in August Wilson's The Piano Lesson, and there was a piano onstage (for musical auditions later that day). And son of a gun, he referenced the piano. He looked at it, gestured toward it, examined it--amazing. My one note was "genius." You can learn to be that kind of genius, though--it's just a matter of training yourself to be alert to possible connections to what you're doing and your environment.

5. Don't get upstaged by what you're wearing. One young lady wore a top that revealed what used to be called extreme decolletage. And yes, all of us male chauvinist pigs know where your eyes are, but keep in mind what the adjective "revealing" means. Would you really want something, anything, to distract the listeners, some of whom are probably pigs, from what you're saying and doing?

The last thing I noticed won't help anybody, ever. It was simply that there were many competent actors (male and female) at the auditions. They were fine, and you could cast one of them, or another, and your play would turn out well, assuming you had a good play to start with. And then there were a few that just stood out. You noticed them, they commanded your attention, and if they weren't right for the show you're doing now, you damn well wanted to remember them for later. And I have no idea why. Sometimes it was timing, sometimes it was a look, sometimes it was the voice, but it really wasn't any of those things. That's why you can't learn it if you don't have it--it's too nebulous and arbitrary. But there's a bright side--that "something" is also hopelessly subjective. It could be that everybody in the theatre saw those things I saw, but it could also be that I was the only one.

Maybe that's the best note to take away from this post--much like love, there's a good chance in the auditioning world that to somebody out there, you're "it." Now sing out, Louise.