Memory and Movement

A double header today with a callback for Helmet and an audition for Warsaw.

I was late, again, for Helmet as the subway deities decided to elect me their whipping boy. I don't understand how trains just change tracks or destination is mid-transit. Or how they just stop or stall on tracks or mid-way through stations. Mass transit in this city, compared to Europe or Japan is just one big mess.

I get there and am ushered into the movement audition. I assumed it was another reading audition and was pleasantly surprised by some contact improvisation going on. I did not want to interrupt and just jump in, and, thankfully, one of the monitors grabbed a dowel rod and invited me to play. I then danced off with an actor I read with yesterday (very cool, laid back, talented guy), the director, and another actor I did not know. It felt comfy and familiar and fun to do again. We all sat and talked briefly afterwards which just increased my desire to really do the show. So to be cliche, I hope I get it.

I had nowhere to go, so I headed over to the audition space for Warsaw and killed some time reading The Sondheim Review and listening to a soprano warble on and on and on. I was seen earlier than my time slot, met Jamibeth the director (very cool and laid back), talked about my name change (a subject of slight laughter in the room), and then went off into my song. I sang "Too Many Mornings" from Follies, one of my all-time favorite shows. It went well, but not amazing. I just stood still - a song like that doesn't require movement in my belief because of the emotional conveyance needed facially. I was done, stood there for two seconds scanning the table for any direction or reaction, got none, and headed to the piano to head out.

Jamibeth leaned down the table and asked if they needed to hear anything else, William said no, and out I went. I felt like schmuck. Felt like a big one even more so when I realized I had jumbled up the lyrics in one section. Moron. Actor self-flagellation post-audition is quite the masochistic behavior. I really wanted to do well and knock it out of the park because I love the music in the show and the idea behind the show.

I know it sounds stupid, because trying to interpret or analyze reactions in an audition situation is an exercise in futility, but I don't think I have done a good job unless I get a callback or get asked to sing again. It's ridiculous, but part of the healthy dose of paranoia every actor is saddled with. I think I sounded great and I think I was understated with the emotion because Sondheim music and larger-than-life acting is an oxymoron.

So who knows? Right? We just float from one audition to the next, try to do our best, try to give our best, and hope we fit into a type being looked for. Then we try to climb up the ladder and grab as many brass rings as we can.

I am, if nothing else, a relentless fighter. I don't know how to be anything else.

Thursday I have an ECC for Phantom. I am hoping I can even get in to be seen and if I do that I can book that job. It would be a sweet first professional gig and I could get my card. It would kind of be coming full circle for stage one for me because Phantom is one of the first three musicals I was exposed to by my best friend Karl in high school (he is the reason I started singing in the first place - the other two were The Secret Garden and Into the Woods). It would be poetic sweetness to start my professional career in the show that led me to an amateur career.