Audition Log 2/11/11 - The Opposite End of the Spectrum

Let me first say Congratulations to Egypt! You inspire and remind us all that not only do the people still have a voice, but that voice is stronger than any weapon.

Today's audition log is a bit of a downer, but with amazing things like Egypt's liberation happening in the world, how can one be sad?

Today's audition was for Sacramento Music Circus. I've been to Sacramento Music Circus auditions a few times already. In Sacramento, mind you, but I thought I had a pretty good understanding of what was going to happen; once I made it to the final round of cuts (with West Side Story choreography, no less), another I was cut immediately. In my mind Sacramento auditions went like this: we were going to sign in, there was going to be tons of people, we would all do a ballet combo then cuts were to be made, then a jazz combo, then more cuts, then perhaps another jazz combo or a tap combo or something specific to a particular show they were doing (this year they had Anything Goes so I was pretty sure they were going to have a tap combo), then more cuts, then maybe another round of dance, then they would thank everyone and ask a few people to sing. In my experience, that's how Sacramento Music Circus auditions went.

This was nothing like that. At all.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

I had heeded my own advice and taken a shower/shaved the night before, though I almost forgot. When I woke up in the morning, I was not surprised to find out once more that there was no hot water. So, I've come to the conclusion that the night before is my preparation time.

Speaking of, I prepared all of my music/headshot/resume stuff the day before the audition, not the night; I even packed my bag at a reasonable time. This saved me from having to stay up all night getting it ready. Er go, I got to sleep at a decent hour.

Sleep was, however, stilted (if not interrupted) by the odor of the kitchen wafting into my room. One of my roommates had made what was probably a delicious garlic mashed potato/vegetable medley dinner (they're really good cooks). Sometimes, though, they don't clean up right away (If you're my roommate and you're reading this, I'm sorry but it's true! Sometimes I'm even culpable) This odor was so strong that I could smell it in my room. I think that, plus the very early time of sleep, led me to lay there for awhile without actually achieving ReM. I don't know how this would be prevented, I surely can't ask my roommates to not cook on nights before I have auditions, but it's something to point out.

THE MORNING

I woke up at 6 am. The audition was at 10, I wanted to get there at 8, so I decided to wake up at 6. It wasn't hard, though. I was quite refreshed and raring to go when the alarm went off.

I had some plain oatmeal and added some raw sugar plus some chai tea with a little raw sugar in it, as well. This is a fine breakfast meal for me, especially during mornings when my nervousness could lead my stomach to jump in a million directions. The chai, however, did upset me for a good twenty. This was before I even left the place, and I feel it only irked my system because I had too much too fast, but nevertheless I think I'm going to portion the amount of non-water beverages for next time. Also, I was feeling a little hungry at around audition time, so I think I'm going to pack some protein bars, as well. Better safe than...not, I guess.

I like to take my time in the mornings. I think mornings are my favorite time of day; just you and a cup of tea or coffee, peaceful, its your time before the business of the day controls it. That being said, I don't like to rush them. I feel if you rush your mornings your whole day is going to feel rushed; the opposite is also the case. But, I think I might have had TOO much time this morning. I was just sitting there...after finishing all my morning routines. I guess too much time is better than none at all. I'll stick with this audition routine for awhile. See how it goes.

THE COMMUTE

No problems on the subway. Got there with enough time to catch the train I wanted to take. Probably 'cause I had so much time before.

This audition was held at Chelsea Studios, which is obviously in Chelsea. It took a little longer to get to than the previous audition (since that was in midtown), but not by much. It was still roughly 30 minutes.

After getting off the subway, I still had a few of blocks left to go. Of course I walked (what else was I supposed to do?) but I like walking. The weather was especially nice and brisk, so it wasn't a hassle at all. A joy, even.

My mood was up and down all morning, so I decided to listen to some uptempo, dance music. And what better dance music than Michael Jackson; after the last glee episode, I was really into P.Y.T. (go ahead, commence with the judging stares. ... Okay, are we done? Can we get back to the story?). Didn't have that song for reason, though, so I put "Rock With You," which is perhaps my favorite all-time MJ song. And it did the trick. I was bopping and grooving down the street, my mood changed from nervous and reticent to confident and energetic. This is a no-brainer but lesson learned: always have good, upbeat music handy at an audition.

THE PRE-AUDITION

The audition was on the sixth floor, so I hit the elevator button and rode up. I rode up with a gentleman who went to the second floor and an architecture building. It's always nice to see other things and people in a building besides acting; it gives perspective.

The Chelsea Studios had a cleaner, open quality to it than the other studio (called the Nola Studios). Not to say the Nola Studios were dirty, but they felt very old-timey whereas the Chelsea Studios were almost space-agey (I'm using very precise dictionary-defined terms; you're welcome). The Nola Studios listed their studios on a chalk-board; the Chelsea had every room nicely labeled and an attendant to help with whatever you needed. And don't get me started on Chelsea's weird, contemporary desk...thing. Very cool, but I don't know how practical it is.

The holding area for the audition was four doors to the left of where I entered from (as told to me by the very helpful attendant working there). It was similar to the Nola studio except a little bit bigger. Not large, in my estimation, but large-ish. Medium large, if you'll take my very scientific measurements. Again, it had chairs lining three of the walls and two rows of chairs in the middle. It was a dance room dolled up to look like a waiting room. The time was only 8, but I still felt that, like last time, a fury of people were going to be there already.

1 person was there before me. Again, just like last time, the imagined crowd was not so much.

I feel this has more to do with the notion of equity versus non-equity. Equity can just show up whenever and they have to be seen; non-eq have to show up early to sign-in and even then they might not be seen that day. Again, it didn't matter that I was there early; I wanted to warm up.

The men's dressing room was a floor below us, so I took the stairs. Boy oh boy, these babies were steep! It felt a lot like Vertigo, save for the beautiful Kim Novak.

This men's dressing room was, in fact, a dressing room. Yes, it was still a supply closet, sink and all (male dancers never get any respect...), but it was bigger with a wall length bench to sit down and mirrors on either. Definitely more than one person could change in there, though I had the luxury of dressing by myself. Which is good; I still have this odd thing about showing my junk to strangers. Guess it has to do with my childhood or something.

When I got back about ten minutes later the room had filled to... 1 guy. There was still only 1 guy there. Again, I was fine with that since I didn't want to lose my spot on the sign-up sheet. Just to make sure, I asked him if there was one to be signed. He replied that there wasn't a sheet yet. Oh. But... doesn't somebody usually do that? Slap a piece of scratch paper on the table and scribble "unofficial non-equity list"? Should that someone be me? Uh...

I decided to leave well-enough alone, feeling that when it does show up I'll still retain my second place status, and even if I didn't get #2 I'd still be seen. Right?

I continued my warm ups, this time listening to more MJ and some glee tunes to pump me up (Round 2 of stares and glares may commence in 3, 2, 1...). I was going full out, but as more and more men came into the room (again, just like last audition, it was strictly an all-male call; the women went yesterday) less and less room was available to me (more science lessons!). Also, as more and more men came in, more and more did my confidence level drop. Not to the point of depression and the need for escape, but enough to notice the correlation between people in the room and the acid levels in my stomach. I saw my friend Mario there, which was a big boost of confidence. We said hugged, chatted for a tiny bit, and then he went to prepare himself as I continued to warmup.

Still more and more men came in, and it wasn't even 9:30 yet. Nobody noticed me; no imaginary snickers or looks. The crowd was too boisterous to see each other to notice me. They were, however, very loud. The calm, quiet dance room had exploded into a non-alcoholic bar/lounge. I turned up my headphones louder, but to no avail.

NINE-THIRTY

At thirty minutes till the audition, a man with a glasses and a handlebar mustache came into the room. He quieted us down and then, in a very booming, authoritative tone announced the steps to sign up. He never announced his name or title (I do plan on going to the site to get it, if possible) but I imagine he was the production coordinator and/or stage manager. Unlike the first production coordinator I encountered (who was very friendly to the point of jovial), this man was authoritative to the point of (but never actually reaching) rudeness. While at first it caught me off guard (if there was any large company I thought I understood, it was Sacramento Music Circus), I didn't think anything of it. He's got to command all these people while keeping everything on time. And, in all honesty, this was what I was expecting when coming to New York.

The production coordinator, as I shall call him for lack of a better title or name, pulled out a piece of paper and announced this was the official non-equity sign up sheet. He also said that the production team (Glen Casalle, artistic director; Mary West, associate choreographer; Eric Johnston at piano; and a few other names I didn't get, including the choreographer) might not see non-equity today; he just wasn't sure at this time.

Excuse me? You're not going to see non-equity? But... this is a dance call; you don't have to go individually. Don't we all go in together?

Apparently not. Seems that, with the number of attendees this high and the size of the room so small (though I never actually got to see inside that room, yet imagined it looked similar to the one I was in), they were going to bring people in as groups of 21, so that they could audition in groups of threes if you were wondering about the odd number of people in a group (why not 20?). If you weren't wondering, read on.

There were about 85+ equity people who attended (some who signed up earlier, some who just showed up right then and there), so there were a few groups who were going to go. I assumed the prod. team was going to teach the combo, see the combo, then make some decisions, then bring the second group in, teach the combo, see the combo, then make some decisions, rinse, repeat. This meant that it may have been awhile before I would even be seen (unlike last time, where we all went). The prod. coordinator just didn't know right off the bat. He did have us sign in, however, in case we were seen.

Remember that unofficial non-equity sign-in sheet that I talked about earlier? The one that wasn't there? The one where I thought I should start it but thought not to, just in case we "weren't supposed to" (I read that on a breakdown once).

Yeah, that thing would've come in handy right around now.

The non-equity people rushed the table. I went, then double-backed for a pen, and by the time I got to sign my name on the sheet I was the last in line. Wait, I think there were a few people behind me. I was the almost last in line. Eh, that doesn't have the same kick as before. I was the ABSOLUTE LAST in line! Now we're cooking...

Granted, there were 15 or so on the list, but it was still a little disheartening to come so early yet sign up so late. But, what could we do? (Note: please read in a pseudo-effeminate tone) "Um, please form a line in terms of when you got here, that is if you can remember who was immediately before you and immediately after. Honestly please, people!" (Continue as you were. Thank you.) No, we couldn't do that. So, I sat down to wait and learned for next time.

The prod. coordinator then named off the equity members who signed up ahead of time. After their name was called, each member announced their presence and took two forms from the table: a yellow form that was to be split in two and seems to be standard for equity auditions and a white form that was specific to the Music Circus auditions. It was a lot like a field trip.

For those equity members who didn't sign up ahead of time, there was a line forming to the left of the room. The prod. coordinator got through everyone on his list, he asked those in the aforementioned line to come down, grab the aforementioned forms, and fill them out, as aforementioned. Again, a lot like a field trip.

Those of us who weren't equity waited.

The prod. coordinator asked for the first 21 people's forms, headshots, and résumés. He then compiled them and left for the adjacent dancing room right across the hall.

Those of us who weren't equity waited.

THE AUDITION

At around 10:00, the prod. coordinator came into the room and announced that they would not be seeing non-equity today.

There was no audition. For me, at least.

He then said that usually out-of-town theaters who come to New York hire non-equity locally, which got me to think that maybe I need to start making a yearly trip back home right around the Music Circus' Sacramento auditions. You know, to see the family. The prod. coordinator also said that if non-equity wanted to they could drop off their headshots and résumés with him and advised us to follow up with a postcard. He even showed us a piece of paper with the address of the company on it so we may direct our mail in a similar direction. He told us that all companies had that piece of paper and to always look for it and follow up. While I lapped up his advice like an eager puppy for nourishment, I could tell that not all the non-equity weren't as fresh off the bus as I was and probably already knew. I tried to give my headshot and résumé to him personally, or to even find out his name, but he was busy, and I'm not the type to barge in. Not yet, at least.

I packed my bags and left before the first group even got in.

Am I disappointed? Yeah, sure, why not? It's hard to wait around and not get seen.

Am I down? Sad? Hell no! I'm actually feeling pretty good. Not as ecstatic as my first audition, but confident. Here's why:

1) I knew this was going to happen, sooner or later. So, let it happen now. That way, it'll dull the blow next time it happens, and the time after that, and the time after that. I know what I got myself into. I'm happy there's no more anticipation; just experience.

2) I showed up. I did my job. I could've stayed in bed, slept until noon. But I didn't. I showed up, I warmed up, and I was prepared. If a company doesn't see me, so what? It's their loss. I held up my end of the bargain. They say that 80% of success is just showing up. If that's true, then I have an 80% success rate! And that's pretty damn good.