Only Her Hairdresser Knows For Sure

Funny thing.  When I was in my early 40s I kept getting called (and cast, at one point) as a 60 year-old.  Now that I am “in the ballpark” so to speak, I’m seen as too young to audition for a 60-something.  It’s weird.  But age in this business is weird.  In my 20s I auditioned for Hamlet.  I wore a cherry dress, curled my hair, put on pink blush … and was asked to read for Gertrude.  In my 30s I went to audition for a role for a 20-something and laughed when I saw a friend at the audition who was also “faking it.”  We had both shopped for new shoes, coming to the conclusion that a generation could be defined by its footwear.  In my 40s I went on a round of agents in NYC.  In one room the agent said “you are probably 40s but I can see you doing 30s and it would get you more work.”  In the NEXT ROOM not FIVE MINUTES later the next agent said “you are probably 40s but I can see you doing 50s and it would get you more work.”  So, can I really pull off a 20-30 year age range?  Probably not.  It brings up a very interesting point, however.  Perception of age is highly subjective.  Let me say that again — Perception of age is highly subjective.  Fun fact.  Most of the women on TV playing mothers are, on average, about 12 years older than the women playing their daughters.  So, a good while back, I decided to heck with it.  I would, and will, continue to audition for roles I feel chronologically appropriate for.  Don’t take offense, directors.  If you feel I’m not a good fit, that’s fine.  Just remember that any random assembly of people of the same age aren’t going to look alike.  

Getting the Part

“How many actors does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”  “100.  One to do it and 99 to say ‘I could have done that better’ “.  On more than a few occasions I have heard actors refer to a role as “theirs”.  I’ve tried very hard not to be one of those.  Having directed from time to time I understand that strong actors just don’t get cast sometimes.  The director has a vision.  You may think you are perfect for the role but that’s your vision.  You may not fit into the vision the director has for the production as a whole.  It’s not a reflection of your ability, it’s a reality about casting, which is not only vision, but chemistry.  Two great actors won’t get cast if they don’t have chemistry with one another.  I remember auditioning for a role I really wanted, in a play I loved, several times over the years.  I finally got the role when I read against another actor who “played tennis” with me.  I lobbed a line, she lobbed it back.  There was something palpable in it.  It was exciting as an actor and it was exciting for the audience.  We both knew, walking out of the audition, that we had hit it well.  So I tell myself, when I think I’m a good fit for something, that there is a larger picture — the director, the other actors, factors I can’t begin to fully appreciate.  We treat it like a job interview but it isn’t that personal.  It’s about alchemy, which is something you can’t really control.

Nerves, Part II

So, I finally had my “first audition back” and yeah, the nerves were there.  Ran my monologue until I could do it while driving and on the elliptical.  Funny thing.  Two older gentlemen were there, auditioning before me … and they were really nervous!  They looked like the kind of professional actors who have been working for decades and have done television as well as theatre.  And they were nervous.  Which made me a little less nervous.  I know, misery breeds company, but the reality of seeing actors with packed resumes feeling a little uptight gave me permission, of sorts, to be nervous, and my thudding heart slowed down, my breath calmed.  So, thank you, random actor guys — I think I did better because of you.

To Audition or Not to Audition

Saw a notice for a local audition.  There is only one role I might be right for and that’s pushing it.  Clearly looks like the producers are shooting for something which is “not me”.  So, do I do the “actor thing” and just audition for everything whether I’m right for it or not?  Actors would say yes — put yourself out there.  Directors might say “no”, don’t waste their time.  But there are directors and casting agents who say “go ahead”, because they like to be inspired and don’t have a lock on how they want to cast a given role.  How are you supposed to know the difference?  It’s a dilemma.  

“I won’t dance, don’t ask me …”

I spent years in Ballet.  Then my chest grew and my legs didn’t and the teachers “guided” me to “other” choices.  I then spent years doing Jazz and Modern.  I’m a big girl who isn’t built like a dancer, but I can move.  I was good, if not particularly svelte.  I felt good about what I could do.  Then I tried Tap.  And failed.  Wildly.  So I gave it up.  Years later I discovered Bellydance.  Dancing barefoot and shaking all those things one held tight and firm in other dance styles was freeing.  Again, I got to a point where I felt fairly good about what I could do.  But the thing about Tap always nagged.  I’m not one to give up.  So here I am, decades later, trying Tap again.  And I suck.  But that’s okay.  I am at a point in my life where it is okay to struggle.  I’m sticking with it for as long as it takes.  Will check back if I ever get the basic moves down!

Fear

No, not talking about the book (you know, “that” book).  A number of folks around here are flipping out about Hurricane Florence.  Legit — looks like a big storm which can do a lot of damage.  It got me thinking, however, about fear and its cousin, worry.  As I told one family member, it’s okay to fear something that you should fear, but worrying about something you can’t control just adds to the stress.  So, where in this does stage fright land?  Stage fright was something I never experienced early in my career.  I was young, I was confident in my abilities, and I felt more at home, more “myself” on stage than I did in real life.  But then I got older.  That super-confidence which 20-somethings have drained away and I found myself getting more and more afraid.  I blew auditions, I blanked lines in performances.  I tried to steer more towards film (mess it up, do another take!) but stage was where my heart was.  I spent a good part of my last few active years in the biz working to address the issue.  I’m not sure I ever found a real answer.  I tried to put my energy into what I could control — my focus, running lines, etc.  and “let go” of things I couldn’t control — what a casting director thought of me, how an audience reacts, but the nerves are still there.  I imagine myself to be an athlete.  I go out and play my best game and walk away knowing I have done the best I can.   I may be looking for an answer for something which has no answer, but I am open to any ideas folks have.  Fill out a contact me form if you have any thoughts.  Thanks.

Hello world!

So, after a brief hiatis, I am returning to the wonderful world of Theatre and Film.  I’ve updated my resume, am working on the website, getting new headshots made and am reading plays madly to find some fresh monologues.  Wish me luck!