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Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Audition!

Gross sweeping statement:
An actor's career is defined by the roles played and the auditions done.

Of course that is not fully true, there is the personality, social media, critical commentary, networking, independent work…, but in general the two things it really boils down to are auditions and roles.

Let's talk about the audition.




An agent gets a breakdown, thinks "my talent X fits this", sends off a request to be seen and waits for a bit.  A casting agent looks at the responses to the breakdown they sent, and calls the agents and says, "I'd like to see talent X for this".   The agent calls me (talent X) and I get the "sides", a section of the script for that character for me to work on.

Those sides are my chance to show the casting agent, director, producers, executive producers and anyone else who may have any say in the casting that I can do the role better than anyone else.  I get sometimes as little as one line to do that and sometimes I get whole swaths of script (six to eight pages).

It is my job to take those pages, sometimes without any knowledge of the script, and create something that matches that dialogue.  The best way that I have ever heard this work described is in this article
Dear Actor (Sincerely Playwright)  If you are an actor I encourage you to read it.  If you are not and have any interest I encourage you to read it.

So I am sitting at home with my three pages of "sides" and I begin to read them.  That is all I do. I read.  I read. I read. I read. Then I do it again and again and again. Sometimes one or two hundred times.  This starts the process of understanding the dialogue.  It helps me see the subtle clues.  It gets my mind working and finally it helps my lines stay in my head.

Then I get up and I start acting it out.  Moving about and finding what feels natural to me. Playing with it so that I can find what I need as an actor for a character.

Then I take what I have developed and transfer it to camera.  Not literally but figuratively. See in the audition room I have to stand on a mark with limited movement and deliver the text.  I don't have cut aways, and other actors that will be in my scene so I have to create them with visual and physical cues, so the solo camera has the impression that I am in the finished product. So I transfer my work to that dimension. Changing it, justifying it (really hard to do a kissing scene when there is no one to kiss. How does that work?) making it look right to the camera.

Then I call up a friend and I run it with them.  I ask for input and outside eye. We discuss and bounce new ideas around to develop the things I missed or didn't think about yet.  We play and play.  My friends help me and offer their time willingly as I would for them.  We also wish each other well while wondering why we didn't get a call for the same part.  

Then I go to bed and work on sleeping.  If I am lucky I get a few days with the sides not just one night. So I get up in the morning and I go to work, I run those lines on the walk there, on the subway home, between customers, while I cook, while I eat, in the shower, in my sleep. I do that every day until I arrive in the audition waiting room.

Here is the test folks.  Can I keep a clear head while I look at all the other hopeful actors going up for the same role?  Each one has done what I have done (or their version of it), each one has their own interpretation, can I stick to mine when I hear someone else do it different?  Do I doubt my work? Do nerves get the better of me?  Do I freeze up cause there is that actor who always seems to get cast?  

In my mind I steel myself.  I want this role, I will book it.  And I focus more than ever on being in my space, trusting myself and doing my thing, to show the people in that little room, I'm the best actor for this part.  They call my name, I go in. In the room I do my job and show them my final piece.  Before and after that I talk to them and let them know who I am outside of the character, that I am good to work with because of my smile and attitude.  We laugh about past shows where they know so and so, and we work to find a genuine connection that will help us work together on the set of this piece.  It takes all of five minutes and I leave the room.

I put on my coat and I begin the process of letting it go.  Hoping that I don't get the "oh please call me for the role" all consuming blues and nerves.  In reality I can't; because in the best world I have to start working on the next piece for the audition tomorrow and this one no matter how good or bad is now past and cannot influence my next one. 

Monday, January 20, 2014

The show comes down

The sound of a drill buzzes in my ear
The hammer pulls nails from wood
People holler for an extra hand
A suggestion to move so you don't get something dropped on you
Those who were on the stage, somewhat begrudgingly, tear down their "home" of the past two weeks
And those behind the set relish being given the "spot light".   They become "stars" who ably, nimbly, and quickly take it all away (as fast as they put it all up)
The show is done and all is cleared away so another one can go up
The life cycle of acting.

I've never experienced post show depression
And I wouldn't say I am experiencing it now
At least not in the degree to which the term "depression" implies
But today, the first day after this show's close I feel quieter

Someone once related a show to carrying a baby
The woman carries, cares for, coddles, feeds and supports a life literally within her womb
It is a piece of her for nine months and then one day it is gone.
For many this day equals a sense of loss and thus post partum depression

I don't spend nine months with a show (I only wish)
But I do spend countless hours living, breathing, caring for and supporting the "life" (character) I play
It has life for a few short weeks, during which I continue to nurture and care for it
And then in one day, one final show it is gone.

I do not know what comes next.
I am thrust back into the "real world"
Making money in a traditional way
Wondering when my next "birthing" will happen.
That wonder, coupled with the need to actively support a "life", leaves me feeling quiet.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Dressing Room Chatter

I'm on stage, very heavily involved in my character.
It is a dramatic character, very intense; I challenge my parents, I push buttons
I am the antagonist.

The lights dim and act one comes to a close.
The audience is left to wonder the outcome of the problem child and the dysfunctional family.

In the dressing room, we are cracking jokes, laughing, talking about our day.
We are being crass, humorous, jovial.
Nothing about the show is really happening it is a thing outside of us all.
More laughter.
The stage manager calls us to places.

I head to stage left.
I take a few deep breaths, I center myself.
The lights dim.
I head out on stage and I am the challenging problematic brat.
I am intense and difficult.

I laughed a few days at that contrast.  That the world of our stage and character is so different, so removed. It seems almost impossible what we do as actors, the transition from one life to another.
But we do it all the time. The marvel of acting.