So, let’s say you’ve rocked your monologues. You nailed your song. You hit it out of the park at your audition.

What if you don’t get called back?

OMG, what if you DO?

Okay. Deep breath. You got the callback. Whew. Another deep breath. What’s next?

Most callbacks consist of cold readings. Alright.  All you have to do is read from the script, right?

Actually, no. Cold readings are neither cold, nor readings.

Here’s what’s really going on:

The director liked you. They found you to be interesting. Something in your audition touched them. You made them laugh, or you touched a heart string, or they saw a glimmer (or a whole bunch of them strung together) of something they can work with. Now they want to know if you can bring it.

They want to know if you can readily and consistently be yourself. Reveal yourself. Take risks. Play hard. Fight for what you want and mean it.

You can practice all of this in “real life,” by the way. Are you willing to allow yourself to be vulnerable, genuine, open and present on a regular basis? It sounds pretty appealing, actually. Aren’t we all striving for mindfulness, presence, peace, emotional freedom, etc.? What if we were in that state all of the time? Oh yeah, buddy, that sounds very cool and Zen.

In the meantime, practice being in that state as much as you can. Everywhere.

So. Cold readings are really about being yourself. Check. Got it. Do lots of practice. You’re on it.

Okay, now for the text of the play you’ve been called back for.  Read the play first, if at all possible. Understand the relationships, setting, and context. Read it aloud. Get a feel for the language in your mouth. As much as you can, get out of your head and into your body. Tune into your breathing. Posture. Heart rate. Emotions. Reactions. Who are you rooting for? What does each character want from the others? What do they do to get it? Do they succeed? Or is there the agony of defeat? Understand the story and its arc.

Next, ask for sides before the callback. These are the script pages you will be asked to “read” (more on how it’s not actually reading in a sec). Recall where this scene lies in the context of the story. Then your job is to do your best to memorize the scene. Become very familiar with the gist of each line. Don’t worry about getting it word perfect (yet — it must be word perfect once you are in rehearsal and performance). Understand what your character (which is simply YOU) wants from the other person in the scene.

Often, you want the other person to come toward you or move away from you. Are you drawing them near or driving them away? “Come to me, my beloved,” or “Take one more step and I’ll chop off your head”?

Be ready to connect with your partner. Remember, you have been practicing connection and presence everywhere in your newfound Zen state. Breathe. Really listen. Determine what you want from the other person, then ask yourself: “What am I going to do to get it?”

Plays are about what people do. How they feel is secondary. The emotional part is not forced, or planned, or pretended; it is a byproduct of action. Expect to get what you want, and then celebrate your victories and grieve your losses. In order to fight for what you want, choose something to do.  Literally make it a verb. If  you can physicalize the verb, even better.

Here are some examples of active verbs:
corner
move
block
engage
restrain
needle
mimic
enrage
interfere
charge
amaze
comfort
groom
tantalize
nurture

Now pick one of these, and apply it to your scene. Physically do it. Understand why this is important — and I mean life and death — to your character. Channel your own nerves at the callback to be in the space where this is really important to me. Use your chosen verb, take a risk, and fight for what you want.  Allow yourself to be fully in the present with your partner, moment to moment, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you win. Or shocked if you don’t. Instead of playing the end, hang on every word and action your partner gives you, and respond authentically with all of the passion you carry in your heart, using your verb.

Have courage. Be brave. Don’t go in cold; read the play, understand the story, memorize the scene. Don’t read. Fight. Look at your partner. Absorb them. Glance at your script if you need to, but give all of your attention and focus to your partner. Listen. Open your heart. Try something. Try anything, and do it 100 percent. There is no right or wrong. Fire the judge. Interfere with your partner. If their head is buried in their script, make them look at you. Oh, and be open to changing your verb, if it’s not working. Be in the moment, and your heart will guide you.

Bonus: What if your scene partner is fighting, and breathing, and listening, too? Then you’ve got synergy, passion, combustion. Then, my friends, you have a play.

Welcome to the cast.

P.S. Stay tuned for news on a Cold Reading Workshop I am putting together for this summer! Get ready for hands-on practice, confidence and greatness!

Dear Friends,

I am thrilled to share that I will be directing this summer’s musical with Chelsea Area Players. Performance dates are July 20-22, 2012, at the former Chelsea High School. Come on out and share your talents!

CAPtivating Rhythms: Lovers, Liars and Clowns

Chelsea Area Players invites you to be part of this fun, fresh, inventive musical revue that pays tribute to CAP’s first 40 years of fabulous theatre!

Auditions for adults, teens and children (and callbacks, if needed) will be held at St. Mary’s Church, 14200 E. Old US Highway 12, Chelsea, MI 48118.

Please attend either one (but not both) of these audition dates/times:

Tuesday, May 8, 6 – 10 p.m.

Saturday, May 12, 12 noon – 3 p.m.

Please sign in on Tuesday before 8 p.m., or on Saturday before 2 p.m. Auditioners will be seen in the order they arrive. You will not be asked to stay for the entire time range.

To audition, please prepare 16 bars from one of the following musicals (or in the style of these):

• Beauty and the Beast
• Crazy for You
• Godspell
• Hello, Dolly!
• Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
• My Fair Lady
• Pirates of Penzance
• Rocky Horror Show
• The Sound of Music
• Suds
• You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown!

• Aladdin, Jr.
• Alice in Wonderland, Jr.
• A Boy, A Girl, the Beatles
• Fiddler on the Roof, Jr.
• Guys and Dolls, Jr.
• Seussical, Jr.
• Wonka

Please bring to your audition:

• sheet music in your range, with your 16 bars clearly marked. An accompanist will be provided.
• current photo of yourself.
• performance resume, if you have one.
• guitar, or other instrument, that you play with confidence.
• additional talents you wish to share, such as cartwheels, juggling, a short monologue, brief dance moves, etc.
• dress comfortably, bring your imagination and an open mind and heart!

Callbacks IF NEEDED will be held:

Sunday, May 13, 6-10 p.m.

You will be notified by email on Saturday, May 12, if you are needed at callbacks.

Cast list will be posted on the CAP website at the earliest convenience.

This show is going to be great fun. We will be creating it together, so we are looking for people who love to play, explore, discover, experiment and imagine!

• Consider how your song choice fits into the Lovers, Liars and Clowns theme.
• Try some physical skills that express Lovers, Liars and Clowns.
• Be open to improvising, moving, playing games, encouraging each other, and connecting.

   

We want to bring out the best in everyone to make this a magnificent show! So bring your most fun and and open-hearted YOU to auditions!

Come be a part of what is sure to be a special, memorable celebration.

So let your light so shine before men,

Let your light so shine…!

–Godspell

What you need is a big strong hand
To lift you to your higher ground
Make you feel like a queen on a throne
Make him love you till you can’t come down
(You’ll never come down)

Express yourself
(You’ve got to make him)
Express himself
Hey, hey, hey, hey
So if you want it right now, make him show you how
Express what he’s got, oh baby ready or not
Express yourself
(You’ve got to make him)
So you can respect yourself
Hey, hey
So if you want it right now, then make him show you how
Express what he’s got, oh baby ready or not

–Madonna, Express Yourself

Look inside. What keeps you from expressing yourself? Speaking up? Singing out? From stretching and breathing and opening up and allowing others in?

Fear.

What are you afraid of? Exposure? Failure? Judgment? Laughter (not the good kind)?

Have you ever rushed through an audition (or performance or interview or first date or presentation or speech or…) because you thought, “I just want to get this over with. I’m going to plow through. Please, don’t let them snicker, laugh, cough, ask questions, respond, or do anything to stretch this out or throw me off. I’ve got to get through this thing unscathed.”

Fear simmers inside us when the stakes are high.

What if we were to let down our guard and allow ourselves to become scathed? What if we opened ourselves to (what our psyche perceives as) the potential to be harmed, injured, damaged, wasted, destroyed. Yowtch. “He was scathed by calamity.” Well, it turns out the word calamity was first derived from “calamus,” when the corn could not get out of the stalk.

Okay. Alright. Getting out the corn. That doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, it’s rather appealing. Let’s say we want to get our corn out of the stalk. To open up and be deeply known. To express our innermost selves. For actors, this is how we earn our living.

Let’s embrace authentic self-expression as a goal. It is an act of courage and surrender. Let’s not allow ourselves to be intimidated by any aspect of the audition (or performance or presentation or …). Let’s do the opposite of attempting to leave unscathed. Let’s be open, vulnerable, and allow for the possibility of being affected, even wounded, by the other person.

That’s the beauty of a play. We get to go there and do that. We get to harm or be harmed, slay or be slayed, destroy or be destroyed. Then, we wipe off the make-up in the dressing room, throw on our sweats, and go home to catch up on episodes of Smash.

It feels good to go there. It is enlivening!

Acting is behaving truthfully under imaginary circumstances.

When we put ourselves out there in an audition or performance, we feel scared. The stakes are high. This is important to us. Rather than channeling the fear, however, let’s give ourselves something proactive and tangible to do.

Mastering the text is a great place to start. Read the monologue (scene, play), and come up with a game plan. Use the text to activate the other person. Simply, what do you want from them? What will happen if you don’t get it? What are you going to do to make the other person give you what you need?

Own the text. Use the words to get what you want. Consume the text, and breathe out fire.

Make the dialogue your own. Use it to fight, fight, fight. Conquer the language. Squeeze every last bit of juice out of it, ingest it, digest it, and watch it shoot out of you in flames. It will appear in the form of passion, despair, romance, beguilement, threat, gratitude, hatred and love. Use the words to save your life.

Better yet, use the words to get your scene partner to save your life.

Use the words to push your enemy away, or to pull them close and cut them or kiss them. Use the words to get that person to fulfill your desires, quench your thirst, realize your pain, experience your terror, feel your joy.

Use the words. Burn brightly. Be unquenchable. Passionate. Take charge. Be powerful.

Slay it. Kill it. Do it.

Let’s stop playing it safe. Let’s instead play dangerously. Let’s live without caution or judgment. Go forward in the face of fear. It requires courage, and you’ve got it.

You see, you are formidable. You are a force to be reckoned with. I love you and fear you and am exhilarated to face you and battle you.

I cannot live without self-expression. I cannot live without theatre. I am going to show up and fight for what I cannot live without. And I’m going to get it. I’m going to win. I won’t leave until I have left every shred of myself, using the text, on the stage.

You will conquer all when you let down your guard, express yourself, and take command of the text and use it to fight for what you desperately want and need. It’ll make for glorious, high-stakes theatre, and you will have won the biggest battle: To face your fear and win.

 Fight and mean it.

Fight and win.

don’t give up
you’re not the only one
don’t give up
no reason to be ashamed
don’t give up
you still have us
don’t give up now
we’re proud of who you are
don’t give up
you know it’s never been easy
don’t give up
’cause I believe there’s a place
there’s a place where we belong

–Peter Gabriel, Don’t Give Up

We actors love the thrill of getting out there, updating the resume, prepping songs and monologues, being loose, stretched, relaxed, passionate, primed and ready for action. To act. To audition.

We don’t love…to not get the part.

Auditioning is not just a job interview, you know? It’s putting your true, authentic Self on the line. And then dealing with what we might initially perceive as rejection.

The truth is, we don’t know what is going through the casting director’s head. We can’t read her/his mind. Maybe the person who got the part was simply the right height. Maybe the stars lined up for them that day. Maybe they brought it.

Did you bring it?

The only part of the audition process we have any control over is ourselves. Our preparation, followed by our being fully present and passionate the day of the audition. Practice being fully present and accessible and open. Often. Like, all the time, if you can bear to.

We will drive ourselves crazy if we try to compare our talents, our energy, our delivery with everyone else’s.

How do we pick up the pieces? Don’t take it personally. AUGH! How the heck can we accomplish that?

You have three options: Stop. Keep doing the same thing. Or, push yourself further.

Be yourself. Your true self. Here is the paradox: Your initial reaction is to close yourself off. But you’ve got to put yourself out there more.  If you can be more vulnerable, go there. If you can strip your soul more bare, wear your heart on your sleeve more openly, yearn more strongly and doggedly fight for what you want until there’s nothing left? Do that. 

Deliver. Dig deep. Wish and pine and rant and scream and wail and fight. It’s all you can do. Go waaaaaay outside your comfort zone; turn it inside out and stomp on it. It’s  a cushion, a guard, a wall, self-preservation.

What the hell are we preserving ourselves for? Don’t save yourself, preserve yourself, pickle yourself, protect, diminish, hide, any of it. Put yourself out there. Big time. It’s our job as actors to go there.

If every actor can go there and do that, we have what is no longer the exception — we have universal brilliance, fabulous-ness, astoundingly heartfelt work. In the meantime, stand out. Be exceptional. Do the unexpected.  Be uncommon. Embody your unique self, and fight like hell for what you want.

Put your whole Self in. The director wants to see commitment, love, presence. There is nothing more you can give than one hundred percent of yourself. If after all of that, you don’t get the role, it’s not about you. Trust. Have faith. Know that it wasn’t the right job at the right time. Something else will come along that is even better. It has happened to me scores of time, without exception.

Be proud. Be strong. Be brave. Put yourself out there. Even more. Every time.

Your faith will be rewarded.

Who would have guessed I was safety-pinned into my dress?

Who would have known there were still price tags on some pieces of my clothing?

Who would have imagined I was sweating it out earlier that day, going through a litany of crucial decisions:

• Should I shave or wear black tights?
• Should I try out my new make-up or go for the tried and true?
• Use hot rollers or diffuse my hair?
• Sing in the car or rest my voice?
• Pre-hydrate or merely sip water ‘cuz it’s a long drive?
• Hug my director friends or keep a professional distance?
• Do the dance audition in leggings or a skirt?

I did my homework. I prepared. I prepared some more. I did a thorough voice practice before getting into the car. I made important decisions (for the record: shaved, wore new make-up, used hot rollers, sang in the car, sipped water, kept a professional distance–although I super wanted to hug the whole group of directors–and wore leggings).

I took risks. I belted. I moved. I danced.

I won.

Audition season is here. It’s time for your One Woman/One Man Show. Enjoy the process. Do all of the prep, the thinking, the wondering, the deciding. Then throw it all out the window and have a blast!

The Prep 

Choose your material. Songs, monologues. Go for what you connect with and showcases your talents and abilities.

Practice. Try stuff. Experiment. Play with abandon. Pan for gold. Throw in every idea that comes to mind, and be especially open to any idea your body naturally expresses. Discover the truth of the monologue or song (which is a monologue put to music).

After rehearsing, execute what you’ve practiced. Freshly. Each time. Know what you want from your (invisible) partner, and fight for it. Use the words and music to get what you want. Repetition is key.

Hold a dress rehearsal. The way we stand and walk and sing in our audition outfit–and especially our shoes–is much different than how we move wearing yoga pants, a sweatshirt and bare feet. Put on your chosen audition outfit and shoes, take off your glasses, let your hair down, and run a couple of dress rehearsals in the days just before your audition.

Practice your introduction. Consider this a mini-monologue and script it. “Hello, my name is Carrie Jay, and I’ll be singing ‘Broadway Baby’ from Follies. My first monologue is Susie from Wait Until Dark. My second monologue is Shelby from Steel Magnolias.”

The Thinking

Bad news for thinking: it’s not part of the creative process. Give it something else factual and logical to do.

Get your route to the audition location on google maps.

Prepare your resume. This will take some thought and memory skills. (All the more reason to keep it current after each job you get!)

So now your brain has been assigned a couple of specific tasks, and can stay out of the way.

 The Wondering

Okay, you can drive yourself crazy with this one. “I wonder if I’m [fill in the blank] enough?” “I wonder what the directors are looking for?” Etc.

Here’s what the directors are looking for: a person who shows up, is completely accessible, prepared, professional and passionate.

You don’t have control over the directors’ thoughts and opinions, so just go ahead and Fire the Judge, and be done with wondering.

The Deciding

The outfit. The hair. The car snack. Visualize the audition space, if you’re familiar with it. Make all of these decisions, then forget about them, sing in the car and get in the zone.

Throw It Out the Window and Have a Blast!

You’ve made the most important decision of all: to audition! To perform! To put yourself out there and DO IT!

Love the process.

Love yourself.

Love your life.

‘Cuz you’re livin’ it. With courage and joy.

Tired? Sit down.

No, actually, flop deeply into the most comfortable chair you can find. Yawn, sigh from your gut, and feel your entire body relax into that nice, soft chair. Ahhh….

Nervous? Pace.

Better yet: jump up and down. Turn your head upside down and shake your hair loose. Sprint down the hall. Do twenty jumping jacks. Spring, dance, shimmy, bellow, hoot. Sing. Loudly.

Don’t back away from what your body is telling you. Embrace it.

Stop talking yourself out of your feelings. Allow them.

Let’s be done with second-guessing, self-doubting, denying, and adjusting our authentic selves to fit the expectations of others. Or our own expectations. Let’s stop trying to jam our square selves into a round hole. Instead, just be.

Audition season is underway. Typically, the earliest auditions are the most challenging. We are getting our stage-legs again, even if we have performed in productions over the past year. It’s time for the one-woman/one-man show, and it’s always a bit unnerving jumping back into selecting, polishing and presenting our monologues and songs. We’ve got to Fire the Judge, screw up our courage, and put ourselves out there. Alone on the stage.  And nail it.

The reality is, the stakes are high. We want something (an acting job, a dream role, weeks toward insurance from AEA), and we are going to fight to get it.

Let those butterflies, sweaty palms, racing hearts just be. Simply allow what is. The physical state of high-stakes, dread, importance, urgency, and fear is precisely the same physical state required to effectively deliver your monologue and songs (which are actually merely monologues put to music). Your immediate need is crucial. Go out there and fight for what you want. And mean it.

Bring your day with you. Don’t deny it. Don’t try to calm yourself down or crank yourself up, or be anything other than what you honestly are in that moment. Breathe. Be grounded, present, urgent, passionate. Fight, fight, fight. Get the job. Capture your dream role. Win.

Go there. Do that.

I’m right there with you.

Creating art is akin to panning for gold.

You get a giant pan. You throw in a bunch of dirt, sand, rocks, mud, twigs. Shake it vigorously, and at the bottom, you end up with some cool gold nuggets. Set those aside to re-visit and examine later. Repeat.

Discovering the truth in a well-written play employs the same process. Throw in a bunch of ideas, without judgment, and see what’s left at the bottom. Try stuff. Experiment. Jump up and down. Crawl on the floor like alligators. Stage a Shakespearean battle as a snowball fight. Collectively beat a large drum. Draw on each other with markers. Eliminate dialogue and speak only subtext. Move in slow motion. Explore opposites. Play tapeball. Dance, especially when it doesn’t “make sense.”

Explore. Discover. Create.

Now, if that nasty Judge is standing there watching with folded arms and a disapproving frown, observing this whole messy process, we’re not going to reveal much gold. He’ll exclaim, “Oh, that’s dirt. And those are rocks. And that? That’s just flatout garbage!” We’ll never accomplish anything, so the Judge advises us to not even start. The naysayer would be so pleased: “Ahhhh, I’ll never have to drop my guard, be vulnerable, allow others in, model abandonment, make an effort, or create something genuinely inspired that might reveal my true self.”

That terrified, critical, insecure Judge undermines our potential to freely engage in a creative process, much less stick around long enough to discover any awesome gold nuggets. This dude would totally have starved during the Gold Rush. (Pick one. California’s exploded in 1849.)

What to do?Fire the Judge. Let him go. Send him away. Just be done. Don’t allow him to live rent-free in your brain and take up valuable real estate any longer. Throw the Judge out the door. Clear your mind. Create space to create.

Cuz’ it’s gonna get messy in here.

I can’t wait.

 

In two weeks, I will be performing at the historic Croswell Opera House. I have complete creative control of the show. I selected the material, cast the piece, directed it, designed the costumes and make-up, publicized and produced it. It is a limited engagement: one day only. Running length of the show? Approximately two-and-a-half minutes.

Yes, minutes.

It is a one-woman show, and I am the title character. The Carrie Jay Show.

Who will attend? Casting directors, music directors, choreographers, and many eager actors performing their own one-person shows.

It is audition time at Croswell for their summer season. In fact, most theatres will be holding general auditions in the next two months for their upcoming seasons. This is an exciting time to be an actor, as there are a multitude of opportunities to perform.

Each performance will last about two to four minutes. You will shower, shave, dress, and primp; you will print your recent resume, trim and staple it to your newest headshot. You will go over your lines, practice your songs, and chug water in the car on your way to the theatre. You will experience a mixture of butterflies and confidence in your gut. You will run into old friends in the lobby, and it will feel like a mini-reunion. You will sail into the audition room, head held high, and be ready to give the performance of your life.

Every audition is an opportunity to perform. We actors live to perform. It’s in our blood, our bones, our hearts. We can’t not perform. We crave more than anything that feeling of freedom and abandon when we are completely immersed in the moment, taking a risk, being real, letting down our guard, allowing our selves to be exposed — and loved for our courage. When we offer our authentic selves, and genuinely connect with another human being, we are literally a force of nature.  It is exhilarating. And we want more.

Every aspect of preparing for an audition performance is precisely what we wish for in large-scale productions. You don’t need to be a billionaire, or a celebrity, or a star to have complete creative control over the work. You choose your material. You give yourself the juiciest role. You decide what, and how and who and why. You dress and make-up the lead, stage the piece and create the world.

Most importantly, you show up, be your complete, honest and true self. You go to those places that other people fear, and you relish it. The stakes are high, your motivations are clear: I want this! And I will do whatever it takes to get it. I am going to compete and overcome obstacles and dive in with one thousand percent of myself. I am open to the creative force in the Universe, in fact, I am channeling it.  I am a force to be reckoned with.

You have uncommon courage. You are unique. And you will get the part.

Enjoy audition season — a season of performances of your brilliant one-person show. You are the star, you are brave, you can do this. Prepare, breathe, and go for it.

See you on the boards!

Play with abandon. Work with abandon. Be with abandon.

Okay, that sounds appealing. But…precisely what are we abandoning?

Let’s try this: Abandon rules. Restrictions. Decorum. Self-editing. Abandon your current course of action when it involves attempting to fit into someone else’s idea of “right,” or even your own. In creating art, there is no right or wrong. It is, at its core, simply self-expression. Abandon the practice of fitting in, measuring up, phoning it in, and doing someone else’s work you couldn’t care less about. Abandon thinking that limits you in any way. Which brings us to…

Firing the Judge. This is huge. Desert him. Visualize that weasly guy who insists “I can’t do it” or “I’m too old” or “I’m too (fill in the blank)….” The one who stands there with folded arms and spews criticisms we allow to paralyze us. Externalize the naysayer. Send him down the street to the Pub and let him drown his sorrows. He’s terrified by the threat of exposure. We have spent so many years covering and adapting and hiding our true selves, we are out of the practice of being real. What if we show the world who we really are? You can start by sharing your authentic self with just one other person. Let freedom reign, baby, and fire the Judge. We’re onto him; he’s not welcome in our creative process. He can come to opening night and write some nasty review; we’ll be beaming all the way back to our dressing room, arms loaded with roses, and hearts full of joy and passion for having once again successfully expressed our selves with abandon.

Abandon the grim, stifled, strained practice of grinding out another day with a false smile plastered on our face, following someone else’s rules, with the intentions of living out our passions “someday.” You know what? “Someday” has just arrived, and we are boarding that ship and sailing on the seas of love, passion, expression, freedom, and joy. This journey is even better when shared, by the way. Model abandonment, and others will be inspired to do the same. Abandonment, like laughter, is infectious. Leave your mind empty. In fact, go out of your mind, and into your body and heart, which never lie. Take the leap, and discover what miraculous opportunities flow in.

Abandon yourself to indulge in your desires and impulses. Just do it. Tune in. Discover and real-ize your dreams. Express your innermost, authentic, self. Strip away pretense. Prune branches that no longer bear joyous fruit. Let down your guard. Be vulnerable. Let people in.

Finally, trust that you’re enough. Yes! You are enough!

Trust. Allow. Expose. Share. Encourage. Be open. Experience joy. Follow your passions. Love. Live.

And do all of the above with abandon.