So, how I booked this job...I was in Ithaca doing the last few days of Man of La Mancha, my first regional show. There wasn't a whole lot to do on the campus where we were staying, so most of the time, I was glued to my computer doing stuff online.
The website Playbill.com posts auditions every weekday and I always check it to research what auditions are right for me. I enter them into my online calendar so I have access to them on my phone. I print out the posting and organize it among the other audition printouts I've put into chronological order in the back of my audition book. This helps me plan how long I have to prepare for auditions that might be in a month versus the following week. However, if the audition in a month is going to be intense and needs a lot of planning and rehearsal, I know to start working on it sooner than even the one happening next week. I often refer back to the printouts to make sure I've understood the exact description of what I should sing as far as how many measures and what style. The posting also details how to submit yourself for the audition.
Most of the time, performers just have to report to the audition site and sign up to be seen in order of arrival. This sounds pretty simple, but there are so many performers out there that if the audition is supposed to start at 10am, people have been waiting outside the building since 5am. Those early birds usually make an unofficial list so that people can sign up, leave, and return later after 10am. (I've arrived early, like around 7am, and been the 150th person to sign up. It's crazy!) Then someone hands the unofficial list to the monitor when they arrive, about 15 minutes before the audition start time. The monitor is the person who collects your headshots and resumes, lines you up to enter the audition room and announces you as you walk in. Usually, the monitor honors the unofficial list that people have created and just transfers all the names over to their official list, but sometimes they don't. If you came early, were 150th on the list, and estimated that you shouldn't come back until around 1pm or so, you may return to find that you didn't get put on the official list at all. Now, you're 300th on the list and they may cut off the time at 5pm so everyone who doesn't get seen by that time is just out of luck.
Sometimes, to avoid seeing every person in NYC, the producers of the show want to handpick who they're going to see, so you have to submit yourself for an audition time slot. This means you email a short coverletter, headshot and resume to the producers and ask for a time to come in. If they know you or are interested in your resume, they'll call or email you back with a time to come in. This helps them weed out the random people who aren't at the level they want or are just trying to get audition experience, etc. They may also email you "sides" or short portions of the script they want you to prepare. Since they're deciding which people to see, they also can afford to give each person a little more time in their audition than they would if they were trying to just get through as many people as possible.
When I saw the audition posting for Barrio Grrrl, I was interested because it was an "ethnic" show. I've been learning that I should go out for anything with an ethnic theme since a huge majority of the audition pool would be excluded. But when I read the description of the show, I usually realize that I still wouldn't be right for the part because I don't "act ethnic" in real life. It's a weird line you have to choose to cross because when a Hispanic woman walks into the audition room, people expect a sassy, fiery, hot Latina with big earrings who speaks with an accent and waves her arms a lot. She is usually going to play someone's secretary or maid who tells somebody off and everybody claps and laughs. That's not really me and I resent playing stereotypes, even for money. Maybe it's because it's not a stereotype I can pull off very well. I think I'm just emotionally sensitive about being seen for who I am, not what what people expect me to be, especially when that expectation is insulting. What other people are comfortable doing is their business, so I don't worry about people who don't have a problem playing a stereotype. I just know where I stand and what I'm good at.
That being said, the posting for Barrio Grrrl looked like a positive message and a fun show. As long as there wasn't any Spanish involved, I might be right for it. Reading on, I discovered that the director and choreographer were the same people who I had just worked with in Man of La Mancha.
Man of La Mancha was a wonderful experience for me and I learned so much just by being around the astronomical talent in the cast. I had been a new addition to the group; most of the cast had worked with the director before. I had been submitted by my agent for an audition for the show and it had gone really well. Being counted as someone worthy enough to work with these big-leaguers was a real honor. I had some growing pains, this being my first job out of town since graduation from AMDA. I felt like I was working really hard but that I just wasn't doing stuff as big or as dramatically as they wanted. They never said anything to me about needing to step it up or anything, but I really felt like a newbie and that was hard. By the time rehearsals were done, I felt like I'd really improved, but again, no one said anything about it, so I didn't really have any validation of my extra work. It's hard not to let your mind tell you negative things when no one is saying anything at all. I had to fight to assume that I was just doing my job and no one congratulates you for doing your job. You're a professional and you're getting paid to be amazing. It's just expected. Scary, but expected.
When I read the posting for Barrio Grrrl, I knew I should jump at it, but I was worried that maybe the team didn't care for my work and they wouldn't want to see me again. I was also worried because the posting stated that you should perform a contemporary musical theatre piece. My vocal niche is singing Traditional, Legit musical theatre. This means material like Sound of Music, Carousel, Man of La Mancha, more from the Golden Age of musical theatre, before the advent of rock and pop music, when singers were more classically trained. This is what I'm good at and what I'm comfortable with. Also, it's a good niche to be in because it's specialized and newer performers aren't usually vocally trained enough to do it. The flip side is that as theatre audiences get older and a new generation moves into the audience seats, there will be a shift to more contemporary musicals. I've been looking for material I can use, but I rarely find anything I connect with. I also struggle with it vocally because I've not been trained to "belt". That's a kind of singing where you basically end up sounding really bright and forward in the voice as you get higher in pitch. It sometimes sounds pinched and nasal, but it's kind of the standard for contemporary musical theatre. As a singer, you have to know your range, what's your lowest pitch, your highest "belt" pitch and and your highest head voice pitch, where it's a floaty, purer sound. As as classical singer, my voice is trained to flip into the head voice fairly low in my range, so when most girls are belting, I'm already in my head voice. I don't have much of a belt, but I've been working on it. It's hard for me, the same way it's hard for belters to sing in their head voice.
So, there I was, sitting on my bed in the dorms we were using while we finished the run of Man Of La Mancha, waiting for the show that night, staring at the audition posting, agonizing over whether I was "ethnic" enough, if they liked me enough to even consider seeing me for an audition and dreading what kind of contemporary song I was going to prepare. Just then, my friend walked by my room and stuck his head in and I just unloaded on him...all the things I was nervous about and whether or not I should submit myself. And he just stared at me and said, "Of course you should! All they can say is no. Or just ignore your email."
I know this. I know it's just a matter of putting yourself out there. Sometimes, you just need someone to stick their head in your doorway and tell you to quit being a weener.
So I sent the email. And I got the audition slot. I found a song that someone had done in one of my classes that I liked and I had tried but discarded because I couldn't belt that high. When I tried the song again, after having nearly 2 years pass from when I first tried it, I found that I could NOW belt that high. Practice helps a lot. When I came home from the Ithaca job, I practiced the song and worked on my sides. On the audition day, I ran into Dev, the choreographer, and he hugged me warmly and said not to be nervous, I was among friends in there.
I sang my song, which didn't go quite as well as I had rehearsed, but I kept on acting and that made the director laugh. They had originally sent me sides for 2 characters, but after I sang, they only had me read the sides for the Mom character. Then, they asked me to stay and wait for the dance call. I kind of panicked because the audition posting didn't mention anything about being ready to dance. I didn't bring dance clothes or shoes and I hadn't stretched. Luckily, I was wearing comfortable enough clothes, but I hoped it wasn't too intense. I had been taking jazz class and my teacher had recently pulled me aside to tell me that I'd really been improving and that I should feel confident at any Movers' call.
There is a difference between a Mover and a Dancer. A Mover is someone who is coordinated, knows basic dance terminology and isn't expected to be a trained dancer knowing how to lift people and do the splits and such. A Dancer is someone who's been training in dance since they were little. Audition postings usually go as far as asking for Singers Who Move versus Dancers Who Sing. You have to know what category you fall under or you could REALLY embarrass yourself.
I stayed to do the dance call (which was technically a Movers call because it was very, very basic) and it went pretty well. At the end, they sat behind the table and started flipping through our headshots, asking certain people to stay behind and work a little more. That's always hard to judge. If they don't ask you to stay, they either saw enough to know they don't want you or they saw enough to know they definitely want you. If they ask you to stay, they either didn't see enough to be convinced they want you or they think you're were great and they need to see if you fit in with the people they've already chosen. Sometimes you can be great, but you are too tall for the rest of the group and it's easier to replace you than to replace the rest of the group, even though you were great. Your mind can be brutal.
So, they called names, asking people to stay, and as they did that, I could see my headshot coming up, right away, they flipped it over and moved past me. My heart broke a little. I couldn't figure out if I had totally nailed it or if they were just being polite in seeing me all along. I had botched the end of my song, but my sides had gone really well. I had worked with them before, so they knew me, but I couldn't get a feel for what they had thought of my work, so I had nothing to go on. Those of us who didn't get asked to stay filed out and headed home or wherever people go to lick their wounds. I usually take the subway home and head straight for Europan for a slice of pepperoni pizza and a Sprite. I've decided to reward myself with the same thing whether or not I felt it went well, just so I can congratulate myself on putting myself out there and trying my hardest. Then I sit in our apartment, darkened like a cave, and re-live and recover from the immense amount of effort it takes to make something hard look easy.
I didn't hear anything more about the show for a while. I moved on to other auditions. That's the good thing about living and working in NYC, there's always another audition or class or showcase or something to prepare for. There's always something to take your mind off of your latest disaster or triumph. Life goes on, for better or worse. You've just got to keep going on with it.
I was in a rehearsal room at AMDA, working on learning some of the music for my Songs for a New World audition (which was the biggest audition I've ever had to prepare for. Ever. More on that some other time...). When I got the phone call from David at the Kennedy Center offering me the job for Barrio Grrrl, I nearly cried! I had taken such a chance. Acknowledging my personal insecurities, handling my fears dead on, and putting the best I could be out there really paid off. How life can change on a dime! With this job, I ended up getting the opportunity to become a member of Actors' Equity union, a professional actor in New York City.
And I was almost too shy and self-conscious to send that email, asking for the chance to try.
Thank you, Jaime Zatarain, for reminding me not to be a weener.
