Author: admin

Good news … It’s coming back! I’ve had some REAL auditions and a background gig or two. But. I run into “the” problem. I have lost weight during Covid. A lot. That being said, I’m still curvy. I will always be curvy, no matter how thin I get. So, here’s a story about a recent shoot. Wardrobe doesn’t like the clothes I have. Because of the weight loss, they are swimming on me. They give me a size four skirt. I’ve never worn a four in my life. I won’t wear a four when I’m dead. So, it doesn’t work, and, despite 20+ pounds I’ve dropped, I now feel uncomfortably large. There are some seven women on set. I’m the heaviest and the only one with a chest to speak of. The wardrobe folks scale up to a size nine, which mostly fits but the waistband cuts into my stomach. I may be lighter than I was in high school but I have the body of, umm, a “middle aged” woman. I’m thick in the middle and no amount of weight loss seems to help that. Wardrobe is not pleased. They give me this medieval girdle (metal stays included) to “flatten” my unappealing tummy roll (which would have been less noticeable in a larger size). Then they give me a form-fitting sweater which has to be tucked in. So here I am, too-tight skirt, a tucked in sweater (which makes my chest look huge). They give me a shrug to cover up in and say to heck with it. Five costume changes later I have worn the shrug with every change. I pull it around me and feel fat and ugly and horrible. Know this: I have lived with my body my entire life. I know how to dress it. Clothing which is tailored but not tight. V-necks. Lengthen the torso by rarely tucking in tops. So, I feel good in my own gear. I didn’t feel good on this shoot. I felt self-conscious and actually in some pain (the girdle really hurt in the late hours). I know there is a look that they were going for. I know that in this business, where so many women clock in at very (very very) low weights the wardrobe folks aren’t used to dressing someone who wears double digit clothing sizes. I know that there is an audience expectation. Men of a certain age can have a gut hanging out over their belts (pretty much half the men on this shoot did) but women of any age have to appear attractive and desirable and aspirationally perfect. Reality be darned. I may have worked in dozens of offices, but in this office the men look like guys on the street and the women look like they walked out of a fashion magazine. I know I have my own issues about food and weight and everything, but a good deal of that does come from external sources. Honestly, it can be exausting. Why can’t we say that an actor is an actor is an actor and what they look like is not a factor.

So, if nothing else, this “time” has required that I learn a lot of tech. I’ve learned to edit videos on Windows 10, how a ring light and natural light combine to create a great look, what kinds of audio interfaces and software you need for a home recording studio, how to work online mixing software (not. easy.), the huge difference between MP4 and WAV, the purpose of ethernet and what Dante is (besides being a 13th century philosopher). I’ve gotten more consistent with contacting agencies, submitting for auditions, you name it. Have I been hugely successful in these endeavors? No. But I feel good about the practice, about the fact that I can still learn new things and push my comfort boundaries. My brain feels awake. Which is more than I can say for most of this. Carry on, folks. It will end. Someday.

Covid has upended the universe. And yet, I’m still here. Built a small recording area in my home, got a Backstage subscription, been submitting online for a couple of months now. Nothing has come from it but at least it feels like forward motion. Like doing something rather than sit and wait. Also watching the “Women Make Film” series on TCM. It’s brilliant, a Master Class in the art of film. Keeping the brain active. Learning new things, keeping fit. One Day at a Time.

Been a good week. Was requested to submit an audition to one project, worked background on another project and started a new “theatre dance” class. The extra gig was long and hot and I totally loved it. Felt like I was back in my element, surrounded by people and activity that I just “get” on a primal level. Afterwards I said I felt like I was home. The dance class is also awesome. Tap has gotten better but can still be challenging. This new class is second nature. I may be a big girl with a lot of parts which bounce when I move, but I ~can~ move, and in this theatre dance class, where the teacher choreographs an entirely new piece every week, I move with joy. Not every week in the biz is easy, but this one is worth a smile or two.

Hello! Had (what I believe to be) a good audition this morning, and something interesting. I was semi-relaxed. A little nervous, yes, but not the shaking terror I have felt in auditions over the past few years. Would love to bottle the reason for this, but can’t quite pin it down. Was it 1) The auditors were welcoming and warm. 2) The audition was in a rehearsal space, which is just easier than a full theatre (I know, ironic). 3) I had worked those pieces a good deal, they felt solid. 4) I’m approaching monologue running differently. Instead of running pieces 10+ times a day, trying to get them perfect, I’m just running everything once a day and letting it be “okay” if some of them just don’t hit the mark here and there. 6) Low expectations. This was a major theatre and I just figure I have little chance of being cast. 7) I just got back from China, am a little tired with a little headcold and had a fair amount of Advil in my system. Pick any or all. Here’s betting I’m a nervous wreck at the next audition!

Okay! So I have found around six or seven decent monologues, have worked them up and am using them for auditions and things are going well. However … There are a lot of calls right now and some are pretty specific. If I don’t have a piece for what is being asked for, do I work up something new at the last minute (which may not have the deep dive I’ve done on my other pieces) or do I just go with something solid which may not “fit”? And what about next year? I’m thinking that you can’t go back to these companies with the same pieces next year. Do I need to go out and find another half-dozen pieces? I’m thinking yes, but I have to say, there is a guilty pleasure in doing a piece I enjoy, something I have worked on for a while, something that feels like pulling on a well-worn pair of jeans. Ah, the drama. It never ends ;–}

Just had the second of two “good” auditions recently. What made them good? On my part I felt solid with the monologues. I practiced, I explored and played with them, I was able to connect to the content. On the part of the auditors … courtesy. I was welcomed, offered a chair. Attention was paid, I was thanked for my time. It doesn’t sound like much but it means so much. I left both auditions feeling good about the business as a whole. Does it mean I booked something? No, probably not. For various reasons, I didn’t expect to. But to be treated as if I was valued, as if I was a human being? Priceless. Thank you.

Honest to goodness, I think the hardest part of being an actor is finding monologues. Having been away a bit I decided I needed some new pieces and so I began reading. And reading. And reading. Here’s the thing with monologues. They have to be short. They have to “fit” the actor. They have to grab attention out of the gate and, ideally, they have to have a twist or turn or discovery somewhere in there. In other words, you need to avoid pieces which are about memories of the past (Blanche’s famous monologue from “Streetcar Named Desire” for instance). The character needs to discover something, reveal something during the piece. It can’t be about evoking an emotion. Actors are depressed and sad enough, directors don’t really need proof that you can be depressed or sad. A monologue, like a play, needs to go somewhere. But you have to find one which checks all the boxes which is … wait for it … 90 seconds long. Increasingly the audition calls are for 60 seconds. Really. Insane. Oh, and you generally don’t want something everyone in town is using AND you don’t want something made iconic by a brilliant screen performance. So, maybe you get lucky, you find a piece, work it up, and boom, you are ready, yes? No, wrong. You need multiple pieces. Which fit you, which go somewhere, and last no longer than 90 seconds (or 60). Which are fresh and not overdone. You need a contemporary drama piece, a contemporary humorous piece, a classical piece, a non-Shakespeare classical piece, a few accent pieces, and, depending on how you are cast, maybe a mid-20th century piece, a character piece, etc etc etc. So, I currently have seven working monologues and am working it up to 12(ish). The biggest of the big challenges? Humorous pieces. I get it, after a day or two of watching angst-filled monologues I have loved the rare actor who can find a funny piece. But it ain’t easy. Comedic plays are often about fast back and forth dialogue. The humor is found in how the lines bounce around, get received, how a new line is delivered. When you talk humor as a monologue it usually becomes stand-up. Stand-up can make you laugh (thanks, Mrs. Maisel) but it’s different from humor found in a play. Do the directors want you to make them laugh or do they want to see you being funny in context of a character? Do they want something laugh-out-loud or just “light”? It’s a challenge, and one I haven’t resolved. In the meantime, it’s back to the books for me. Still have to find that funny piece.

Much like age, weight is a weird issue in this business.  It’s okay to be skinny.  It’s okay to be heavy.  In a business renowned for type-casting, there are roles for the very old, the very young, the thin, the large.  But in-between?  A never-never land of sorts.  I wear the dress size “most” American women wear.  Never mind that it is a size smaller than Marilyn Monroe (or one of my idols, Jane Russell).  Things today have changed.  There was that time the producer of “Sex in the City” boasted that all of his stars were a size 0.  For a while in my youth I tried to be one of the skinny people.  I was 20 (think, actually functional metabolism).  I worked out three to four hours a day.  I ate 500 calories or less a day.  If I slipped at all and had an actual meal, I followed it with a box of laxatives.  And it got me to … a size seven.  I still had curves.  It’s in my makeup so to speak.  Lest I forget the impact of genetics, pictures of me and my cousins show a group of women who would fit great in those 1940s dresses but seem heavy or chunky by today’s standards.  Thankfully, after decades, I’ve found peace with my size.  I eat intentionally, work out daily and am told by my doctor that I sit in the top 5% of the “good health” metrics.  So, I’m healthy.  But not svelte.  And I never, ever will be.  And that’s okay.

At an audition I am on my best behavior.  I wish I could say that of all the folks on the other side of the table.  Many are great.  They greet you, watch your work with patience, thank you for coming in.  There are a few, however …

So, let’s just go over the “don’t” list, all of which I have unfortunately encountered.

• Please don’t take my resume, during my monologue, and scrunch it up in your hand and place it in a trash bag next to you.
• Please don’t take your pen and draw a big line through my resume, then slam it down in the (clearly) “no” pile during my audition.
• Please don’t spend my audition reading my resume like it is War and Peace.
• Please don’t assume I am a mind-reader.  If you want me to direct my monologue to you (or not), just let me know.
• Please don’t take calls, have side conversations or text during my audition.
• Please don’t sit there with a martini and then yell at me in the middle of my monologue (yep, it happened).
• Please try, just try, to look like this isn’t the worst day of your life as you watch my audition.  I know you are busy, stressed, tired.  We are in theatre.  Fake polite interest.

Bottom line — your theatre called the audition.  Actors have worked to prepare 60-90 seconds of something for you.  As part of the partnership, give us that time to show you what we got.

Thanks!