Are You Experienced? Part 1

Auditions are tough. One chance to make the best impression possible--sometimes in as little as 30 seconds. Show them you can sing, you can act, you can make choices, you can PLAY THAT PART. Oh, and that you're a blast to work with. Sparkle, baby.

Which brings me to the subject of my blog today: the open call audition. It is a beast unto itself, and it shows no mercy. Gird your loins, readers, some of what follows is not pretty. Some of it requires snarkiness. Some needs a pinch of snipe. And some just has to have a few (or more than a few) well-placed four-letter words.

Today was the open call for the Broadway production of Hair. Let me stress: it's kind of rare that a Broadway show lets just anyone come and try out. I knew, when I came across the casting notice in Backstage, that I would have to change into Hardcore Actor/Singer. I don't wear that outfit too often, because, frankly, it can be damaging. But every so often, I take my Hardcore Pants out of the closet, shake off the dust, and slide them on. Today was that day.

It's 3 a.m. on a Thursday morning. Where are you? Sleeping probably--or trying to. I am awake, and I am brushing my teeth. My purple suitcase is awaiting, full of activities: books, story, a few more books (because I read a few at a time). My Ipod is fully charged, with the first season of The State (sublime) and Inglourious Basterds (superb). I've decided to drive to the Public Theatre, and it was the best decision I could've made. In 15 minutes, I'm there.

It's 4 a.m. and, contrary to my expectations, I am far from the only person on that sidewalk. In fact, according to the unofficial list, I am #121.

Holy shit. This is going to be monstrous.

And it was. It was MONSTROUSLY AWESOME!! Don't be fooled--it is not often that an open call is run like it was today, like a well-oiled machine. Often, after the auditions begin, there is waiting. And shifting around on either an uncomfortable chair or (more often) an uncomfortable floor. And then more waiting. And before you know it, you have spent 4 or more hours in a rehearsal studio that is never quiet, and always crowded. Then you get your shot. It's, like, a minute long if you're lucky. Then it's over. And you will never get that time of your life back.

The more I think about this post, the more I feel like I should introduce you to some of the recurring characters you will find at any open call audition (today's included). I think I can get a little more snark per square inch with this material than if I told you how I sang the shit out of "Magic Man" by Heart.

THE CUTTER
--You know this asshole. The Cutter doesn't just exist in auditions. Oh, no, The Cutter is everywhere we wait. He/she strikes when you have the least amount of temper left. All of the sudden, there is someone new in front of you (or in front of someone in front of you). I wonder how The Cutter rationalizes butting in line: "I look just like this guy, he'll think I'm him!" "No one will notice if, after they've been sitting for 8 hours on the sidewalk, someone new just moseys on in here at 8:45 a.m." "I could totally take this chick if she wants to throw down." The Cutter has to know he/she's a blight on the already-trying audition process. And if you don't know, listen, Cutters of the World: YOU FUCKING SUCK. STAY HOME.

THE WANDERER
--"Can you watch my stuff for me?" I hate that question. Actually, no, I have to watch a movie on my Ipod now. "Can you hold my spot in line?" Sure...but if someone mean tries to take it, I'm giving it to them. The Wanderer was there en masse today--I even got infected with it, and uttered that poisonous "watch my stuff" question. However, I would like to say, I only went away from my spot once, and that was to walk to Walgreens for foot heater insoles and a bottle of water. Wise purchases, both. And I'm more apt to forgive the Wanderers on a day like today, when I show up a full 5 hours before the doors open. Usually, I'm a 7 o'clock girl (much to my detriment--I think I have to change that). So, Wanderer who spent maybe 4 of the 5 hours with your stuff within my range of vision to prevent theft, I forgive you. See? I'm magnanimous sometimes. But not with the following:

THE ATTENTION WHORE
--We get it. You can sing. You're at an audition for a BROADWAY MUSICAL. We can all sing. At least, I hope so, if only for the casting director's sake. There is no reason--NO REASON--to let me hear you sing everything from gospel to Pink to Bon Jovi. You are not intimidating me. I happen to think I kick ass singing. I happen to know I'm right. I'm not going to further encourage this behavior by gushing over how pretty your voice is. So just stop it. You're only highlighting your own insecurities for the entire line/room to see. I'm embarrassed for you.

THE LOUD GIRL/GUY
--A close cousin to The Attention Whore, this jerk-off seems to think that everyone needs to hear exactly what they're saying at all times. And that everyone finds them as charming/funny/whatever as they do. It's different when it's a group of friends (NSD 09, I'm looking at you)--simply because there is an audience built in to any member's histrionics. However, at an audition, I'm trying to focus--on keeping my mind off my nerves, on breathing, on relaxing especially. I don't need to know who gave who a BJ at your last kegger, or how much you looooooove your new haircut, or what you thought about the stuff you found in your belly button. Shut up.

And one more before I fall asleep for reals:

THE NAMEDROPPER
--The Loud Girl/Guy's fraternal twin. This one knows everyone. Except he/she really just saw them eating at Cafeteria as he/she was walking to his/her job at Urban Outfitters. He/she has also worked with/been coached by everyone of note. The truth of these assertions can't really be quantified, so let's play along and say that it's true. Sir BlahBlah of the RSC really did look at you cross-eyed when he came backstage after a performance of Snickerdoodle: A Study of Cinnamonic Oppression. That will not get you this show. That will not edify anyone in the line, knowing they're sitting/standing next to the kid who bumped into [insert prestigious name here] once. Again, like I advised your fraternal twin, and let your cousin the A.W. know: stop speaking.

Okay, I have to finish this tomorrow or over the weekend. I have a few other archetypes to bitch about. Please don't think that the audition experience today was bad. It was actually almost enjoyable. The only thing I would've changed would've been the weather. If it had been 70s and dry, it would've been perfect. I probably would've shown up at midnight and stayed the night (as the #1 person in today's line reputedly did--that chick was wearing a Hardcore Catsuit, and I am in awe).

Watch this space.