"MICHAEL. So where are you from? How was your summer? Are you taking blah 101 so you can major in blah, or are you really pre-blah? Will you sign up for blah and go out for the blah or audition for blah? Oh if you went to blah well then you must know blah who I met backpacking through blah on blah....
You guys going to the freshman blah blah?"
-- "Light Years," by Billy Aronson, rep. in The Best American Short Plays 1999-2000, ed. Glenn Young
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We finished auditions today.
No, I don't mean actual auditions. But we treated them as such. I had assigned each kid a different monologue to memorize, rehearse and prepare as if for a real audition (a trip to the library yielded several books with titles like, Awesome Teen Monologues and Plays for Young Actors, prime material for the exercise). I even got Jack, our Artistic Director, to sit in and watch.
And one by one, each little star hopped up on stage and recited their thirty-second, one-minute, or two-minute piece. The times and subject matter varied according to their age and ability. So most of the kids got short commercials for fake products, and some of the older ones got to handle some actual "dramatic" material.
I gave them their monologues a week ago. First, I told them to read the monologue aloud to themselves, then in a mirror, then with a family member or friend. Second, I had them do some very basic script analysis: Underline verbs, circle nouns, and draw boxes around adjectives; then read the monologue again without speaking any of those words, instead acting out those words with gestures, facial expressions, etc.; and finally, reading it aloud once more, but this time saying every word and keeping every gesture. The idea is to unlock their physical expression by muting their vocal expression.
And third, audition.
It took three days to get through seventeen auditions. Jack, another instructor named Roderick, and I gave our feedback after each kid performed. We tried to focus on basics, especially with the ones who were still shifting their weight and pinning their arms behind their backs. (You'd be surprised how many adults I've seen do this in an audition and call it a character choice.) With the more advanced kids, we worked on content and timing. I limited the number of auditions to six per day, leaving us a good half hour to do something fun.
Now, to add solemnity to the occasion, I had them scatter throughout the auditorium at least three seats away from the nearest person (something my high-school director would do when we got unruly during rehearsal). You'd think this would be boring to a large group of 9-12-year-olds, but actually, they enjoyed it. They were able to learn from each other's mistakes, and as the days went by, the monologues got better and better. They had no choice but to pay attention to the performance and criticism. It also helped them build a sort of camaraderie as a class. Because of what we accomplished, I've decided to devote the remaining six days of class to putting together a sort of performance piece.
I'm using Hugh Gallagher's college entry exam. I first read it back in high school when my English teacher gave it to us in an attempt to inspire creativity as we prepared to enter college. My idea is to assign each student one or two lines to memorize, and then to direct/choreograph the group as they dramatically interpret the essay.
My hope is to have them perform this in one week, when their parents come to watch their final performances. Since they have been working on musical theatre numbers (including a tribute to Michael Jackson), I figured a bit of physical theatre would make a nice addition to the evening. I just have to convince the powers that be...and to do that, these kids have to be good.
After the last three days, I'm optimistic.
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On a personal note, I went to auditions yesterday for Stagecrafters, a community theatre whose season includes Our Town. The auditions for each show were set up in separate rooms, allowing you to choose which show's auditions you would attend. I liked that set-up, because I didn't have to sit and watch people audition for roles I can't play, in shows outside my range (one of the casts is entirely 40 years old and up).
Because I'm already contracted to TCTC, I don't think I'd be able to do Our Town, which rehearses through the fall and hits the stage in November. And I don't even know if I'll be asked. But it was good to get back on the usual side of auditions, just for the experience of cleaning up, reading cold, and being a fresh face.
Even if it turns out to be a waste of time, it won't be. At the very least, I got a chance to read some Thornton Wilder aloud, and that is always good.
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I read in an acting book that actors should always be auditioning. Any show, any theatre, any role. All experience is good experience.
I also heard from a co-worker recently that whether you think you are or not, you are always auditioning. Anyone you meet is a potential producer, director, or fellow actor. And theatre people gossip (or network, depending on how you think about it) like people in no other profession.
And as with anything, that can be a good or bad thing. In any system, everything hinges on how well you make the system work for you.
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