Audition #8: Barter Theatre

In my last post, I said I was going to try and post twice a week. Not really sure when I planned on starting that, but clearly it wasn't before now. Oops. But hey, there's always a new week ahead to try again.

A week ago, I went up to Abingdon, VA to take part in the Barter Theatre's general auditions as well as their auditions for the Barter Players, a troupe of 6 actors who have graduated college or have equivalent training. Here's how the day went...

Date: December 11, 2011
Acting audition: 11:00
Dance audition: 12:15
Player interview: 6:30
Auditioned For: AD Richard Rose and others
Pieces:Vianne from the novel Chocolat by Joann Harris
Bess from Hunting and Gathering by Brooke Berman
Attire: Dark purple jacket layered with yellow cardigan and gray tank
Denim trousers
Brown oxfords

The auditions for Barter were held at their alternative space, Barter Stage II, which is a lovely building with a cafe that is open before and after performances and looks across the street at the main stage. When I arrived, I was greeted by Casting Assistant Kevin Dmytryka, who had me fill out some forms and return them with my three copies of my headshot and resume. Then I milled about the cafe area with the other waiting actors. If any of my dear readers audition at Barter next year, I want to give you a heads-up: There is no place to warm up. The cafe is right outside the theatre itself, so do your vocal warm-ups before you arrive!

The folks at Barter are very organized and will take good care of you. They announce a whole set of auditioners and will have two people on deck while one is auditioning. They are quick to smile and make the whole process as painless as possible.

A tangent: A week or so before I went to this audition, I talked on the phone to my good friend Richard McKenzie, who is one of those actors that you've seen or heard plenty of times before but can just never quite place him.

Richard McKenzie as Fred Bunker in All In The Family

Dick is a fabulous storyteller, so when I told him I was auditioning for the Barter, a theatre he has worked at, he was off to the races. He said when he auditioned, his number was 13. He was waiting offstage, watching number 12 do an intense monologue from The Master Builder and she ran off into the wings and into Dick's arms, crying and shaking. He said, "I thought, if she's this scared, then I'm outta here!" He left the building, walked across the alley and was going to leave before the stage manager caught him: "Are you number 13? Get in here, they're waiting for you!" So he went and auditioned and was hired. "If I had made it to my car, I never would have been an actor." (If you go to the Barter and look directly above the door into the box office, you'll see Dick's rather cynical-looking head shot.)

When my name was up, I was the very first of the set and was a little caught off-guard, but marched into the space (which is a very intimate thrust stage) while the stage manager announced my name and number... Number 13. I couldn't help but smile, thinking of Dick... and also that I didn't have to face number 12 running into my arms.

I tried to keep the pace up with Vianne, which resulted in me feeling like I wasn't thinking at all. Of course, this may be beneficial for me. I'm notorious for chewing things up and mulling them over too much before getting them out of my mouth, but when I take the direction of just picking up the pace, I don't "feel" anything (us actors always wanting to be sentimental). I am completely unable to judge whether my performance benefits from quicker speech and reduced (or quickened?) thought. All that is to say, I really don't know how well Vianne went. I do know that I kind of settled into things, including my breath, for Bess. Her monologue felt much more present with clearer tactical shifts and the last line got a laugh (internal squeak of joy). I feel fairly confident overall with the acting auditions.

Barter Stage II. Phenomenal cosmic powers! Itty bitty living space.

 When you register for the auditions, you are given the option of attending the dance call, which is encouraged. As someone who has two left feet, I say do the dance call. I actually had a ton of fun. You will have a chance to change and warm up. The combination they teach everyone is not advanced and they take time to help you with rough spots and give you alternatives if you are unable to do certain choreography. They teach the combination to the group as a whole, then they will select some people to stay to learn more advanced choreography while the rest go into another room to work on what they've learned and help each other. Once everyone has had time to review, they pull auditioners in 4 or 5 at a time to perform the audition. Smile a lot. If you mess up, do it big. And do only what you can do. I had a blast.

My mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying Abingdon, making fun of how fancy the Martha Washington Inn is, and poking around out in the boonies. Then I napped a little before my last appointment: the Barter Player interview with Katy Brown, Artistic Director of the Players and Associate Director. She meets with everyone all together first to tell candidates the following:

• This is not for everyone.
• This might not be for you.
• You will work your toosh off.
• It is a 15 month contract.
• There is very little time off.
• This might not be for you (again) and if you decide not to have an interview, we will not hold it against you and you will still be considered for other roles.

Challenge: Accepted 

But really, it is a helluva long commitment and she is right. That sort of thing isn't for everyone. But I see myself in a state of transition, headed toward moving to Chicago, a direction that could be changed. I am in a position where I could take on 15 months of working my toosh off. So I had an interview. She is very pleasant and straight-forward. She mostly asked me about my resume, but she did ask what I am specifically working on with my acting right now and the dreaded "Do you sing at all?" I almost got through the day without having to sing, but alas, she got a nice little rendition of Happy Birthday. She told me they would be in touch with candidates in February and March for another interview and that was pretty much it, I thanked her and said I had to get home and feed my farm animals, which started some chitchat about milking (her sister also has goats!). I like to find out a little bit about the person asking all the questions.

Then I headed home to some hungry ponies.

I had a fantastic day in Abingdon, as long as it was. I feel confident about my work and I enjoyed meeting a few new people in the time in between auditions and interviews. I find that an organization is reflected in the people that keep it running and the people that it attracts and everyone that I ran into at the Barter--whether they were teaching a dance combination or announcing auditioners or auditioning themselves--were warm and welcoming. It seems like a lovely, nurturing place to be. Even if they never call me, I will definitely be back to see some more shows!

Audition Journal #3: Actors Theatre of Louisville

Date: February 3, 2011, 11:25 am
Auditioned For: Michael Legg, Director of the Apprentice/Intern Company
Pieces: Joan la Pucelle from Henry VI Part I
Steph from Reasons To Be Pretty by Neil LaBute
Attire: Dark blue sleeveless blouse with lace yoke
High-waist brown pencil skirt
Gray lace-up oxford heels

I have drooled over the apprenticeship at the Actors Theatre of Louisville for years. When I found out they were going to be at KCACTF while I was there, I assumed I would not audition. I was there for dramaturgy, I was unprepared, and I did not want my first audition to be piss-poor. I went to Mr. Legg's workshop about networking and found out that he couldn't stand Neil LaBute. They're a theatre that does new and contemporary plays and what do I have to present? Shakespeare and Neil Freaking LaBute. I figured that was the deal breaker (along with the fact that I did not bring headshots and resumes to the conference) and I would go on my nerdy dramturgical way. My teacher thought differently, and probably wisely. She's aware of my willingness to back out of situations like that, so she made me turn around and go talk to him about an audition slot. He said he'd like to see whatever pieces I had, even if they were Shakespeare and LaBute and put me down for an audition.

I warmed up with Dan and Kelly as best as I could in a pencil skirt and quickly got annoyed about doing Joan in the clothes I had picked for my interview earlier that day. Joan la Pucelle does not wear pencil skirts. Mr. Legg spent a good fifteen minutes each with my friends, who auditioned before me as my tongue decided to get dry and mealy. I went in, not particularly nervous, but also not very hopeful. Michael Legg was joined by Bruce Price, Production Manager of the Florida Studio Theatre. I presented Steph followed by Joan and afterwords was offered a seat by Mr. Legg. While the audition was probably poop, getting to talk to him was worth signing up. I told him I was a dramaturg as well and he suggested the Actors Theatre's literary internship, but also said it would be insanely competitive and probably not worth my time to apply as a first-time dramaturg. (However, I am going to put the application together and mention the meeting in my cover letter and request advice for next time.)We also discovered that he is a huge fan of my hometown, to the point that he named his dog after it! It was an absolute pleasure to meet him and speak with him.

Mr. Price from FST gave me his card and asked me to look at their literary internship, which I am adding to my list of applications.

This morning, I received an email on behalf of Mr. Legg saying that now was not the best time in my career to apply to the Apprentice Company at the Actors Theatre. So my dream internship isn't happening just yet, but I did make good contacts in Mr. Legg and Mr. Price and learned the value of having a wide variety of monologues on-hand. I have come away from the audition and the conference as a whole with a determination to pursue the actor I want to be rather than settling for the actor I am.

Audition Journal #2: Utah Shakespeare Festival

Date: January 19, 2011, 3:35pm
Auditioned For: David Ivers and Brian Vaughn, Artistic Directors, Utah Shakespeare Festival
Pieces: Joan la Pucelle from Henry VI Part 1 and Steph from Reasons To Be Pretty by Neil LaBute
Attire: Denim trousers
Canvas Blowfish wedges
Yellow button-down with cravat-like ruffly goodness
Blue and white striped blazer

After such a fun and satisfying audition for Chautauqua, this seemed like a bit of a downer. I didn't bomb it, but there's nothing exciting about leaving the audition room knowing you received little attention, especially having taken the 6+ hour trip to get to Savannah.

Before the audition, I dropped by to see my teacher Vivian to give her the dramaturgy casebook from 'Art' and say hello. Having worked with me on my pieces for Chautauqua, she gave me a few pieces of advice: take up space and get out of my head. (The latter has been a constant note for me.) I proceeded to not re-visit the warm up that I had done earlier in the day and mingle with the lovely people that I miss being around when I'm home. Somewhere in this time frame, I grabbed a sip of water from the fountain, choked on it, and earned myself a strange-sounding voice.

When I was called into the room, I entered in what I thought was a confident manner, shook hands with David and Brian (they were offered, I was not busting into their personal space) and gave them my headshot and resume. They asked what I had for them and I, in a more causal manner than slating (since they asked), named my pieces. And then I stood and waited as they sifted through headshots. And waited. And waited for them to both look up. Eventually I asked, "Ready?" and they nodded me on.

I did my best to apply Vivian's advice in the audition, although playing with specifics of sitting and standing may not have looked thought-through. But, as I like to say, it's "fresh" not "unprepared." And I was trying to not think too much. Amidst all of this, I began to notice that my two-person audience was looking at resumes more often than they were looking at me. In between pieces, I asked for a chair in hopes I could summon their attention for the second, shorter part of my audition. No luck. When I was done, they asked what year I was in school and I explained I graduated in November. Thank-yous were exchanged and that was it.

Not so great. What was great was the margaritas with friends afterwords.

I did take a few thoughts away from the audition. I need to seriously focus before an audition. It was particularly hard to do so in this instance, being a graduate surrounded by friends I never see anymore. But that's what the post-audition margaritas are for. Also, I seriously have to re-visit that vocal warm up. It can only help. After the audition, I realized I have no idea how to actually go about getting out of my head. I know I need to do it, but I always interpreted it as "just stop thinking." Which sounds really dumb now that I type it out and maybe I misunderstood all this time. So now I'm questing to find out just how does one "get out of their head."

This audition made me have a pretty serious tangle with that awful "second best" feeling I lived with throughout college. I thought that shiny diploma granted me freedom from that. Not the case. What to do about that is another big question.

I had debated doing Vivie Warren from Mrs. Warren's Profession for this audition, but decided against it simply because of the dialect work. I think I rooted out all those "ask list" words and all the cases of scooting the final 'r' of a word over to the beginning vowel of the next word. But it felt a little weird, and then I bumped into a friend who suggested doing a contemporary piece instead of two classicals. Maybe she was right, and I think the contemporary piece was the stronger choice, but this leads to another of my many issues: I have to stop letting my peers change my mind. It's happened so many times before and I'm tired of watching myself do it. In the case of my peers at school, I think they are all well-intentioned. I simply shouldn't be such a push-over.

I think Steph and Joan have gone slightly stale in their over-working, so I'm going to give them a rest for now and find more pieces to add to my repertoire. While I'm disappointed in the audition, as I was really hopeful to go to Utah this summer, I discovered a few things to work on, and so I move onward, forward, upward to the next opportunity.

Audition Journal #1: Chautauqua Theater Co.

I've heard of doing audition journals, but had no real reason to keep one in college. But I figure it's a good way to keep track of what works and what doesn't and how many auditions I go to, as well as a way to keep people posted on what's going on in my professional life. So here it is, the first audition of my professional life.

Date: Jan 7, 2011, 10:32 AM
Auditioned For: Vivienne Benesch, Co-Artistic Director, Chautauqua Theater Company
Pieces: Joan la Pucelle from Henry VI Part 1
Steph from Reasons to Be Pretty by Neil LaBute
Vivie Warren from Mrs. Warren's Profession (just in case)
Attire: Brown short-sleeved turtleneck
Cream short-sleeved blazer
Denim trousers
Canvas Blowfish wedges
Recent haircut

This audition was for the theater's highly competitive conservatory. Last year, the company was made up primarily of grad students from places like NYU, Yale, and Julliard. So, while my fretting the week before was maybe a little excessive, it at least had good reason.

The day before the audition, I met with my teacher, Vivian, to work on my monologues. I prefaced them by saying, "I don't like to say 'unprepared.' I like to say 'fresh.'" What we tweaked:

• Introduction: Surprise! It's not necessary to say it all in one breath. Here it is with breath marks added: Hi, my name's Elise Soeder. ' I will be doing Joan la Pucelle from Henry VI Part I (upward inflection) ' and Steph from Reasons to be Pretty by Neil laBute.
• Switched the order: Everything about who I was auditioning for (Vivienne Benesch, the company, and the season) pointed to classical work. Therefore, lead with Shakespeare.
• Cut the Steph monologue in half: Again, all things point to classical. Simply make them aware that I am proficient in contemporary work.
• Various adjustments of operatives
• Heighten the stakes for both characters
• Have Joan literally show Burgundy his pining country: You can turn your back on the auditors. (WHAT?! Craziness.)
• Joan is divine and if Burgundy even looks at her, he will give in to her will.
• Don't play humor: Steph isn't laughing so that the audience can. She is dead serious.
• Steph is full of shit: She doesn't know what she's talking about, but pretends she does. Throw it out there.

My session with Vivian was definitely beneficial, as I was more nervous about showing my work to her than in the audition room. In this case, my nerves were directly related to knowing the person and caring about how they perceived me. I showed up 45 minutes early for my audition and, when it was my turn, I went into the room, totally nerve-free. I can't tell you how that happened, it just did (even though my teacher and mentor, Sharon, was behind the table too.)

Vivienne Benesch was lovely, comfortable, and welcoming. I slated for video, and presented my two pieces, after which she asked if I had a third, which I didn't think she would do in a million years. Note to self: always work on the backup just as much as the others. I had prepared Vivie, but flubbed a line about halfway through. After a deep breath and repeating the sentence before, I went forward with it and finished, dignity intact. She then gave me a note to work on with Joan, which was to have no fear or trepidation in showing Burgundy my opinions. We worked on it for about two thirds of the piece. Sharon assured her that I had been working on similar notes concerning freedom of body and voice and I can still go further. She had also said nice things about me when I walked in, concerning my nomination for the LMDA/KCACTF award. (Thanks, Sharon!)

In general, it was a very satisfying audition, confirmed by Sharon who suggested in an email that I consider going to Chautauqua's general audition in NYC in March. Like she said, it's a long shot, but "everything is in place, you just need to try to free yourself up and "play" more...You might try doing your pieces outdoors, singing them, dancing them." If nothing else, I have had a very heartening start to the new year and my life post-graduation.

Cookie Cutters

I was tinkering on facebook when I found that one of my friends had posted this,
a series of short pieces which illustrate classic film types with the help of people like Tilda Swinton, James Franco, and Natalie Portman. Give it a look. They are lovely portraits of classic characters that we all know.

There is something about the concept of types that I see actors latch on to, possibly because it is something definable, or because it is one of the few things we can control or shape. My college performing arts department has a particular fetish with “typing” it's students, which often leads to actors scrambling to perfectly define themselves in appearance. I'm a bit of a rebel when in comes to practices like this, but after I had been pegged as the “Juno” of the department, I found myself showing a picture of Ellen Page's haircut to the hairdresser. (Admittedly, Ellen and I both can rock some cute bangs.) I even recall students who knew what they were going to wear to an audition before they knew what monologues they were going to use. Understanding your type, how to dress to it, and looking like the best possible you are all crucial. There, I said it. You have to look good. I hate superficiality, but there it is. As someone who loves a good pair of sweatpants and has heard “You are such an Ellen Page!” or sometimes “You are so Anne Hathaway!” a few too many times, I approach types a little cautiously. Here are some thoughts:

1. Beware the list of types.
In an audition techniques class during my study abroad in Provence, I was assigned to read parts of a rather helpful book called How To Be A Working Actor by Mari Lyn Henry and Lynne Rogers. In their chapter “Getting Your Act Together,” there is a section on image types based on the concept of “universal style” created by image consultants in the 1990's. There was a list of styles followed by keywords to help you define yourself. They were...

• Sporty: friendly, casual, unpretentious, comfortable with who you are, likeable
• Traditional: businesslike, conscientious, loyal, organized, reliable, trustworthy
• Elegant: refined, polished, cultured, poised, discerning
• Romantic: caring, compassionate, charming, sensitive, vulnerable, nurturing
• Alluring: provocative, body conscious, seductive, sexy enticing
• Creative: adventuresome, free-spirited, imaginative, original, fearless
• Dramatic: commanding, confident, intense, self-assured, sophisticated.

In class, we were given time to pick which one we were, and then we stood in front of the class, one at a time, and the class determined which best suited us. I went last and there I stood, in 100 degree weather in southern France, rocking some cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and my Chacos, probably sweaty, with my hair in a tangled pile. Essentially, I was a hot mess. The rest of the students could do nothing but eliminate “Alluring.” Eventually the professor ironically guided them into a combination of “Romantic” and “Elegant.” A year and a half later, I am still not satisfied with that. I lean towards those categories, but I can find one or more keywords in each of the others that describe me.

These lists are meant as an initial guide, not as a stamp to declare precisely what you are. Henry and Rogers even say “It is important to realize that we comprise all the styles to a greater or lesser degree.” You are not a Christmas cookie stamped out of a sheet of dough. There are not a dozen just like you. My recommendation? Take a look at one of these image type lists, get an idea of where you stand, and forget about it.

2. No one can define your type but you.
There may be teachers, fellow actors, mentors, etc. who might guide you in a certain direction. Consider their advice before taking it. If you think what they suggest shapes your appearance in a way that doesn't feel natural and reflective of your personality, please fortheloveofgod don't do it just to please them. They can handle it if you decide that that's not really the route you want to go.

3. Take pages, not the whole book.
I'm actually very pleased about my shared qualities with both Anne Hathaway and Ellen Page, both suggested by my peers and professors. I love both of these actors and how they present themselves, particularly how Page can move between quirky layers and a fabbity little black dress and Hathaway's use of color and texture. However, I'm going to steer clear of her use of the sheer:

4. If you like it, buy it.
If you have the money, that is. I've found that I don't have the “Sweet baby Jesus I must own this” reaction to clothes that don't suit my personality well. Buy to fit your personality, not your type. (I am currently pining over these wedges in bark) Trust your instincts. Unless your instinct is to go on a shopping spree you can't afford. Or go bear wrestling.

5. In the end, you're your own type.
I was lucky to have the opportunity to enjoy speakers at the Savannah Film Festival for a few years and over and over I heard casting directors, actors, agents, say the same thing, reiterated at last by James Cromwell. “There are no types.” A different version of an already-famous actor is not nearly as interesting as your completely unique set of appearance, skills, and personality. Instead of refining yourself to be someone else, refine what you have to become the best possible version of yourself.

All this being said, I am writing this down as much for myself as anyone else. Anyone who knows me knows that my wardrobe is not exactly fabulous, so if there are any extra thoughts you want to add on types, defining yourself in appearance, or just getting dressed in the morning, pop it into a comment!

Henry, Mari Lyn., and Lynne Rogers. How to Be a Working Actor. New York: Back Stage, 2008. Print.