Audition Log 2/8/11 - The First One (Part 2)

Okay. Where were we?

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?

Audition Log 2/8/11 - The First One

I've always been told that after every audition you should write down everything you can remember about it, as a guide for future auditions (e.g. Were the lights a problem? The space a benefit? What clothes did you wear and how did that help/hinder your audition). Well, what better place to log my collective audition journey than here? So, after every audition, I'll post what happened, how it went, and how I felt. Names (may) be changed to protect the innocent.

As I write this, "Linus and Lucy" by Vince Guaraldi is playing in the background. How suitable, because that is exactly how I feel after my first EVER audition in New York!

It went so well! So much fun, and the company was so nice. Stars seemed to align.

Here's the step-by-step of how it went (it may get long; my apologies).

THE MORNING

I woke up at 6:30 am after a mere four/five hours of sleep. I prepared the night before (printing headshots, packing my dance clothes, double-checking my music). It was sort of unwise to try it all that night, seeing as how I didn't get home from work until 9, but sometimes things like that happen. In the future, Jimmy, prepare earlier.

I tried to take a shower, but apparently the water doesn't get hot until....I dunno, 9 or 10. I left my house at 8, hoping that it would warm up before then so I could get a quick shower in. Sadly, no go. I even had to pour hot water from the teapot into a bowl so I could shave. It was not a pretty sight. In the future, Jimmy, shower the night before. And shave regularly.

THE SUBWAY

Of course, the day I wanted to get somewhere relatively early was the day my metro card expired. I missed one subway while refilling but made another. I had plenty of time, but it was still funny nonetheless.

THE PRE-AUDITION

I made it all the way down to W. 54th St. easy enough and found the building, which is just a building full of offices. No fancy on-the-stage audition like in A Chorus Line, which I know is the standard now but is still a little sad. Actors can have "audition dreams," too.

When I got in, there was a sign that stated: "Casting Calls: the line forms outside. Building doesn't open until 8:30." I checked my watch. 8:30, on the dot. Uh oh, I thought, there's a line!? I knew it was going to be big, but...but...oh my, how many people will be in front of me?

Six. Six people were in front of me.

I took the elevator up to the 11th floor, found the studio space, and meandered into this dance room with chairs lined up on either side. I figured this was the holding area, and felt rewarded when I found out I was correct. There was a table to the side with two pieces of lined paper taped to it. One said, "UNOFFICIAL HAIRSPRAY SIGN UP - MALE" and the other said the same thing but for women. Ooo! I thought, my first unofficial sign-up sheet. Here's to many more! I signed up and got dressed.

The dance call was first, so I went into the "Men's Dressing Room" and changed. I put quotations marks around "Men's Dressing Room" because it wasn't; it was a supply closet. A small one, at that. No lock, too. But I made due and changed.

The breakdown asked everyone to wear clothes that would show off your body. So, I'm thinking tight fitting, non-baggy or tapered-out. So I choose a tight, white shirt and jazz pants: and old standard. In hindsight, I did not need to wear this. The choreography was such that I could have worn track pants and been fine (some men did). It didn't impede my dancing, but I did feel a little foolish.

I finished dressing and came back into the waiting room. It was 8:40; I had an hour and twenty minutes before the audition began. I felt that was fine, because it gave me a chance to really warm up (I had not danced for a few weeks and was feeling it).

For a dance call, I thought I would have to compete for space to warm up, but there was hardly anyone doing so. In fact, no one was! They were all sitting in the chairs, waiting or texting. I found this odd, but thought maybe they were waiting to warm up later. Whatever floats their boat is fine, but I needed to warm up now. They can catch up when they want to.

But they never did. As more and more men came in (it was strictly a dance call/singing audition for men; women were later in the day), more and more sat. I was a bit flabbergasted. Some people did small stretches here and there, but I was going full out. I know no other way. I felt some eyes on me, (probably) imagined some snickers in my direction, and put on my headphones to diffuse the tiny vampire bomb going off inside me. It worked. I put on slow, soothing music to calm my nerves and drown out any naysayers. Who cares if they make fun of me for stretching? I'm gonna rock this audition.

THE DANCE AUDITION

At around 9:45 a man by the name of Chris introduced himself as the "production coordinator" (I actually forgot his title, and I feel terrible for it. Always remember everyone's name and their job position). He handed us a form to fill out and a brand-new *OFFICIAL* sign-in sheet. Everyone obeyed the unofficial sheet we had originally made, which was a refreshing sight to see. It's cool to hear about it, but to see it first hand. It's a small thing, but in this realm of competition it's nice to see camaraderie and respect.

We left our bags behind (really? Okay...) and followed Chris into another studio, which was roughly the same size as the holding room, maybe a little bigger but not by much. It had mirrors on one side, windows on the other, with fluorescent lights adorning the ceiling. A piano rested in the corner. Pretty standard dance room. Well, save for the piano.

We met the choreographer and his associate, who was the only woman a part of the production team. We also met the music director and the producer of the whole company. Though quiet, the latter two were warm and pleasant.

Not to say that the first two were mean-spirited. Quite the contrary! Unlike what I thought my first NY audition would be, the choreographer was open and kind. He didn't care so much about the technique but about the performance, saying that Hairspray is more about singing than dancing (Oh no! Make it more about dancing!). He joked around with us, citing a jump I had done as "Populism" (from Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson), and tried to help everyone really nail the combination, including two men who were very late.

The combination itself wasn't very hard. A quick combo of 8 8-counts, it featured booty shaking, turns, kicks, and ponies (oh, the ponies!). I don't know how long it took us to learn it exactly, but it felt quick. We then performed it a couple of times without music, then with music, then we went to the sides and put us into small groups.

I was in the third group. Funny enough, I had been placed with my peanut gallery (the boys who I thought were snickering at me, but were probably laughing at some youtube video). We faced the mirror (how nice of the choreographer!) and the associate danced in front of us. After a few moves, she stepped off to the side. She didn't need to help; we were doing good. I don't know if you know, but rocking out to high-energy dance moves? It's kinda my thing. So let me reiterate: I'm gonna rock this audition.

After everyone went once, we did it again but in bigger groups. I was in the second group this time. The first time I was downstage, the second upstage. Both times I was stage left, in you will. Neither times did I have a lapse of memory, though I did flub once or twice when I was waiting on the side.

They then thanked us all, and we went back to the holding area.

After a moment, Chris came back and said they wanted to hear us all sing.

Okay. I'm gonna have to sing. Just breathe...

Part 2 of this Audition Log, including the "Singing Audition" will come up tonight or tomorrow.