Float Like a Butterfly...

Someone should make a tv show, or at least an SNL skit, about the waiting rooms at auditions and the array of characters that are bound to show up there. Although very few will actually land a part in whatever they're trying out for, they alone comprise a heartly little cast in and of themselves. Sometimes there's the guy who has a misguided concept of reading to oneself, and is practing his cold read over and over in a high decibel whisper, or the two girls that know eachother and gossip on endlessly about who's doing what play where. And then there are the garrulous types who will talk to just about anyone who crosses their path--and they usually drone on about their own career path and give countless tidbits of unsolicited advice.

This past weekend I encountered quite an interesting species of auditioner, which is what prompted this musing on the topic. It was for an indpendent film, and the waiting room was a classroom, equipped with some snacks and water for those waiting. When I walked in, there was little activity, but I just sat and waited quietly, sure that someone would eventually come in with sides and that the auditions would proceed in the order of those arrived. Several minutes later, in breezes a middle aged man, dressed quite slovenly in green pants that were too short, a ratty flannel shirt and a newsboy cap. Immediately upon entering the room he asks rapid fire questions to the other auditioners, "Is this the waiting room? Is there a sign in sheet? Have they been in to check us in? Are there sides? Is this food for us?" And then he just digs right into the food, crunching on carrot after carrot, helping himself to several packets of crackers and making a generally noisy production of refreshing himself with the snacks and water. After he sits down, he begins what I knew was the inevitable chit chat with another actor in the room, and it isn't until everyone else has cleared out, except for me, that he even pauses to take a breath and read the sides, and this short activity is accompanied by overdone hand gestures. It's only a matter of seconds before he turns on me and asks, "So, do you do a lot of film?" I reply with a short, "When I can", hoping to imply that I'm just not up for conversation, but yet again he inquires, "So then you do a lot of stage." When all I say is "Yup", he takes this as his cue to tell me that he has a show in Baltimore that he has to be at by 6:30--and I very satisfyingly do not take his bait and ask him what show, as I know he is yearning for me to do.

Several minutes later, another unsuspecting auditioner walks into the room, and is immediately preyed upon by the overgrown Oliver, who first instructs her that yes this is the waiting room, there is no sign in sheet and the food is for us. Then he proceeds to inquire about her current projects, and finds a way to again work in his current show in Baltimore, and drop the fact that he has been in touch with the people behind this particular film since October. I am relieved when my name is called and I can leave his obnoxious chatter behind, and go do what I came there for.

Over the course of many auditions, I've honed my own little strategy for them. It's basically a keep to myself, but in a pleasant, not off putting kind of way. I like to remain focused and positive, and for me, the best way to do that is to tune out all the chatter in the room, which has the power to "psyche you out". If I focus too much on other people and the self promotional and competitive underbelly of most waiting room discussions, it gets to me and I start to doubt my own abilities and career status. So, I just wear a smile for everyone, but remain solitary and put my mind solely on the task at hand.

My mother has always told me that I posess a quiet confidence--that rather than boast of my talents or successes, I take pleasure in them for the simple joy of them, and share that joy mostly with my family and close friends. It is a behavior I absolutely learned from my father--whose personal accomplishments he celebrated only with a wry smile, and then went on to do whatever me or my sister needed urgently that particular day. My parents easily demonstrated to me how not to rest on your laurels--but instead keep them cultivated in your own, private garden, and move constantly forward to expand your little plot of earth.

This is how I go about my auditions--I view them as an opportunity to hone and develop the craft that I love. They are an experience, from the beginning to the end, and I feel so much is gained from being aware and focused enough to absorb every aspect. The characters around me are merely amusing dots on a landscape of learning, growing and striving towards a goal, one tiny step at a time.