On Giving Up: Auditions

The person I’m interviewing this week pointed out that my theater just had our General Season auditions this week and wanted to talk about that before we got around to discussing why they took a break from there, but as you’ll see, the two ended up having a lot in common.

Here’s the interview:

Them:  How did auditions go?

Me:  I’m not sure I can talk about that on record.

Them:  That bad, huh?

Me:  No, they were great, I’m just not sure if that would make people not want to audition for me in the future.

Them:  They probably don’t want to audition for you now.

Me:  That’s true.

Them:  I’m just interested to hear your experience of the audition process, because auditioning is one of the reasons I’m glad I don’t do theater anymore.

Me:  Really?

Them:  Does that surprise you?

Me:  Uh, I guess not.  I always liked auditioning though.

Them:  You did?

Me:  I really did.

Them:  You’re like that kid who likes getting shots at the doctor’s office.

Me:  I’m very competitive, so I kind of liked the competitive aspect of it.

Them:  See, the nerves for me was just—That was always tough.

Me:  Not the waiting afterwards?

Them:  Oh, the waiting is—

Me:  I never liked the waiting.  I’ll admit that.

Them:  I used to try to forget about it after I auditioned for something, but if it’s something you really want—

Me:  So are you of the belief that everybody should be called or emailed no matter what?

Them:  No.

Me:  Me either.  And I felt that way before too.

Them:  Yeah, like, I don’t want to know.  I want to audition and then if I get it—great.  And if not, I just want to forget about it, but I don’t want to be notified that I didn’t get it.  That just sucks.  Like, it’s so awkward.  I just don’t understand why people want that.

Me:  To play devil’s advocate, maybe it’s so they can make other plans?

Them:  Yeah, but that’s—Okay, so I was in the business—and, like, really the business—I was a working actor for about nine years, and—like, timing is the worst part of doing it.  Because nothing ever lines up.  You don’t work for a year, and then you get three offers all at once.  But it’s not the responsibility of the person on the other end to, like, figure out the timing for you.  That’s not how it works.  I used to sit down at my kitchen table and actually write out, like, ‘Okay, this is my top choice show, and so I have to, uh—‘

Me:  You have to put all your eggs in that basket.

Them:  Exactly.

Me:  So you just got tired of all that?

Them:  I got tired of the fact that I’m great once I’m in a show but I suck at auditioning and so I felt like I was constantly being turned away at the gate.

Me:  Yeah.

Them:  And that nobody seemed to know what to do with me, because I didn’t fit into a, a, a pre-determined box, you know?

Me:  Yes.

Them:  What was the experience like for you this time around?

Me:  You really want to talk about these auditions, huh?

Them:  I’ve never been on the other end so I’m really curious.

Me:  Well, for one thing, I realized that we needed to change the way we do things going forward.

Them:  Why is that?

Me:  Because it takes a lot of energy signing people up for this, assigning them pieces to read—

Them:  Yeah, your auditions are so easy.  You pick the piece, no memorization—

Me:  I have to imagine it’s the easiest audition you could go to.

Them:  Definitely.

Me:  And people still back out after they sign up.  And, some of the time, it’s legit.  But by the time the eighth person tells you they’ve had car trouble.

Them:  They’re full of shit.

Me:  Yeah, that’s what I tend to think.  I mean, some are probably not, but—

Them:  Your car didn’t just crap out on the day of an audition, and if it does, and you use that as an excuse not to get an audition, then all you’re doing is letting the people at the audition know that you can’t reliably get to rehearsals in the first place.

Me:  And some people are sick—

Them:  Suck it up.  You’re showing up to—put this in all caps—READ A MONOLOGUE.  Suck.  It.  Up.

Me:  I’m going to get flack for this.

Them:  You’re not saying it, I am.

Me:  It doesn’t matter.  I’ll still get flack.

Them:  Listen, I can’t really judge, because I walked away from all that, but I didn’t walk away because my car broke down the day of a callback.  I walked away because I was busting my ass to get to these auditions and these callbacks and then they were casting their nieces anyway or people who didn’t even bother showing up.

Me:  I don’t do that.

Them:  You let people skip the audition though—

Me:  If they’ve worked with us before yes, but we’re pretty upfront about that.  And it’s just because I’m friends with a lot of those people, and that doesn’t mean they’re definitely getting a lead every time, but I think it’s weird to make them jump through hoops.

Them:  I get that.

Me:  Also, do people not know about focal points?

Them:  Were people looking at you in the audition room?

Me:  There was some of that.  People were looking at me or the directors or—

Them:  Who is telling people that’s okay?  Seriously?

Me:  It’s wild.

Them:  I’m shocked at that—honestly.

Me:  You never looked at a director during an audition?

Them:  If you stood the director right in front of me, I would still find a focal point—probably their forehead or something, but I would find it.

Me:  I’ve had people bring props in—

Them:  Stop.  Just stop.

Me:  But you do see a lot of good people and I think even the people who do the, um, things they maybe shouldn’t do, are just trying to be memorable.

Them:  Remember when memorable meant, like, have talent?

Me:  But so many people have talent now—

Them:  I know.  We need to stop encouraging so many people to do theater.  It’s getting outrageous.

Me:  I think I talked about that in a previous piece.

Them:  I guess, for me, part of walking away was like, Okay, for so much of my life I believed I had a gift, and then, to realize that so many other people have that exact same gift or better—it just really, uh, I became disillusioned for sure.

Me:  Did you feel like people didn’t believe in you?

Them:  Yes.

Me:  But you believed in yourself?

Them:  I did for awhile and then I stopped being able to, uh, do that.  I got—it wore me down.

Me:  I ask everyone this—do you miss it?

Them:  I miss when I would book the gig.

Me:  (Laughs.)  That is a good feeling.

Them:  It’s the best feeling.

Me:  Would you consider coming back?

Them:  I just can’t see, uhhhh, putting myself in some of those positions again.  Where—I feel like—I know it’s an unfair business, but the lack of transparency just—it wasn’t something I could get used to, and walking into those rooms, uh, it seemed like there was no chance every time.  Every time I walked in I felt like—it began to feel pointless.  So, like, if someone just said ‘Come do a show with me’ I could probably do that—

Me:  Right now?

Them:  Yeah.

Me:  If someone said to you, ‘Come be in a show right now, no audition’ you would do it?

Them:  I—yeah.  I think I would.

Me:  And that hasn’t happened in all the time since you’ve been—

Them:  In—I’ve been out for—about four years.  And no, it hasn’t happened.

Me:  Come do a show with me.  No audition.

Them:  You serious?

Me:  Yup.  I’ll put you in something.

Them:  What?

Me:  I have no idea.

Them:  (Laughs.)  Oh great.

Me:  But I’ll find something.  It’ll be good.  I know you’re good.  We did—how many shows did we do together?

Them:  We did a few.

Me:  And I saw you in a bunch.  You’re good.  You should be doing this.

Them:  You’re really going to put me in a show?

Me:  I really am.

Them:  But then I won’t be anonymous anymore.

Me:  No, you have to do the show as ‘Them.’

Them:  Oh okay, that’s the condition?

Me:  That’s the deal.

Them:  Okay.  I’m in.

Them stopped doing theater four years ago, but apparently, they’re about to make a comeback.