That's right. Singing.
THE SINGING AUDITION
Now, singing is not my strong suit. I have taken extraordinary lessons in the past couple of years, lessons that have turned my voice around and made me able to sing, but I still don't identify as a singer. I'm a dancer, first and foremost, an actor second, a writer, an illustrator, a jellyfish, and THEN a singer. I thought we MIGHT sing, like a call back thing. But they wanted to hear us all. Crap.
So, remember that unofficial/official list I told you about earlier? That's usually, to my estimation, the order of how you're going to be seen for open calls (unless of course it's an eq/non-eq thing, but that's a whole 'nother beast). Well... apparently they mixed up our photos or something or didn't have the list, so they kinda just made a pile, drew 5 names from it, and called those to sing. I had written myself down on the list as #7, but through the magic of mistakes I turned out to be #4! Which didn't leave a lot of room for warming up, but also left almost no room to freak out about it. I'll take what I can get.
I quickly changed into my singing attire, which consisted of a maroon collared shirt that is 100% polyester so I can throw it in my bag and it won't get wrinkled (which is always a good thing when traveling), a white t-shirt underneath, jeans rolled up at the bottom, and converse with a crossword pattern (the last two of which so as to evoke a 50s/60s vibe, the former just to be presentable). A fine combination for a show such as this, if I do say so myself.
Again, there was no dressing room save for a supply closet and the restroom on that floor was closed. So, the only place to dress was a teeny tiny restroom on the floor below. Had two stalls but only enough room to support one. And EVERYONE wanted in to change. Next time, perhaps I will wear something that I can easily change into/out of in public so as to avoid this mess.
Once all five of us were changed and ready, Chris (the "production manager/coordinator") sat us down in order outside of the studio where we danced. It has now done a Transformers on us and has become a robot--I mean, a singing studio. I waited patiently and excitedly for my turn. Just three. No big deal, right?
Flipped through my book and made some small talk with a guy beside me. Normally I don't like to speak to other actors before or during an audition because that's time I can use to focus, but I felt the momentary conversation would be just distraction enough to calm my nerves.
You could dully hear the singers sing, which I don't know how I felt about that. On one hand, it's good to hear what's going on, figure out how the room is. On the other, no it's not! Some of these cats are good! (Duh, Jimmy...) Well, of course I heard greatness all around. But what I also heard was a second song.
A second song, excuse me? I believe you're mistaken. The breakdown said only one song. 16 bars, in fact.
Of course, I hadn't gotten my facts mixed up. They just asked. But I had planned for this eventuality. I had about five other songs I could sing at the drop of the hat, and I searched for the one I would if given the opportunity. And I was pretty sure I was going to since everyone in front of me sang twice. I had already accepted it as fact.
The third person finished, exited, and left the door open for me.
Okay. Here we go. My first ever singing audition in New York.
I opened up to that same studio where we danced. Unlike the dance call where the room was situated horizontally, the singing auditions had it vertically, with a table about two-thirds from the door in the center and three people (the producer, the choreographer, and the associate choreographer, in that order from L to R) seated behind it. The piano had come away from the wall and was beveled so that the music director's back was facing the door. When I sang, he was behind me. Pretty standard layout.
I opened the door and smiled, seeing if they were waiting for me. They weren't; they were busy discussing and looking over headshots (which was fine). I headed for the piano where the music director was and whispered hello. I gave him my music, which was in a binder instead of folded and taped (which is a point of discussion among some people; I like a binder and since it's only 16 bars the music director/accompanist/whoever is playing the piano doesn't have to turn pages anyway, which is the main reason for taping your sheets accordion fashion) and went over my music. Again, pretty standard fare.
I sang "(It's) Hairspray" from the show I was auditioning for. I had never sung it before, but I wasn't comfortable with my usual Rock song ("Cry for Me" from Jersey Boys) just yet, so I chose this one because, while it was a little low in my range, it still sounded high and powerful at the end. And, if nothing else, I could act my way out of it.
After I was done talking to the music director, I went out and stood in the center closer to the piano than the table, a place where I felt was generally the place they wanted us to stand. I stood there a moment and waited for them to finish discussing, smiling all the way. Once they did, the choreographer asked what I was going to sing. "Actually, I'm going to sing '(It's) Hairspray' from this very show, Hairspray," I said. "Wonderful choice." or "Perfect song." said the choreographer; I don't quite remember which one it was, it was just a good sign.
The music director gave me my (very!) short intro and off I went. I was singing.
I misplaced the first part of the first note of the song, but quickly fixed it. My voice sounded good and strong, powerful. I even effortless hit my highest note (which was a G, not really all that high but one that can devastate a guy who's didn't a chance to warm up save for dancing and who's auditioning), something I initially didn't think I was going to do when I prepared for it. And then I ended strong. Acted it well enough, too; I also chose this song because it was that (pardon the term) corny lothario thing that I enjoy mocking/playing. You know, all cheese and smiles. I love that! So I knew I wasn't going to have to force some circumstance. It was just going to be me. Only thing I didn't so much like about my audition was that I did a lot of random musical theatre arms that had nothing to do with anything. But then again, it is a presentational kind of song.
After I finished, the choreographer smiled and, "What? You're not gonna scat?" I'm sorry, they scat? I got this sheet music yesterday. There is scatting in the cd, but none on the sheet music. I sang what was directly on the sheet music (though I switched one phrase "I'm Corny Collins" with "forget the milkman" because I wasn't really going out for Corny). So I improved a short scat and made the team behind the table laugh and smile. I may sing this in the future, so I think I'll add the scat in.
Now for your second song. You ready, Jimmy?
"Thanks Jimmy. That's all we need from you."
"O--okay. Thanks. Thank you."
I smiled, thanked the music director as I took my binder, and left.
They didn't want a second song from me. It was the first weird moment of doubt I had since coming to the audition. They had asked everyone else to sing twice, why not me? Some of these kids were GOOD, so is that why not me? Was I not good enough?
I chalked it up to what they said. That was really all they needed. I left it behind for the most part.
POST AUDITION
I went back into the holding area, chatted with another of guy who had already sung (after an audition I feel fine with chatting to ease the stress of waiting. Just as long as it's not with someone who's about to audition). He didn't think he did so well so I told him that they didn't ask me to sing twice. He replied that it was probably because they liked me so much they didn't need to hear me again, which I understood but didn't whole-heartily agree. I asked the guy who went after me if he sang twice. He said he only sang once, but joked that since it was a long song it probably made up for two. I then sat and waited to hear if I was going to be called back.
How this team worked was they would see 5 people, confer among themselves afterwards about who they wanted to callback, and then those 5 would know on the spot whether they were called back for tomorrow or not.
So, after a good five-ten minutes, Chris asked the five of us to come outside into the hall to hear who was going to be called back for tomorrow.
He named three names. I wasn't one of them.
I thanked Chris, packed up my stuff, and left the theatre.
I think I felt I should be bummed, maybe even tried to at first, but it just wasn't in me. I honestly do not think not being called back had any reflection on me. For one, I had a kick-ass audition. I danced extremely well, I sung well (or at least well enough), and I showed them who I was and what I was all about. Secondly, there's not a part for me in Hairspray. If it was another show I'd have my role highlighted and circled, itching to play it, but there's not much but ensemble in this show for me. And that's great! I'd love to be in the back and just dance, especially with this show.
So, they didn't call me back for Link or Seaweed or Tracy? Who cares! I'm not right for those parts and, more importantly, I felt incredibly good about my audition. My first audition here. What better reward is there than that?
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