I'm a Product of My Childhood

I was thinking about this topic a couple of times today in different situations.

I'm the same person I was when I was 7. That's an over-simplification, of course. But the same things I loved as a child, I love now. Singing has always been one of the greatest loves of my life. It was true when I was 7; it's true now. When I was 7, I wanted to put on pretty dresses and pretend to be a princess or a peasant or an orphan or an heiress and live in a different time period. And it's still one of my favorite things (and one of the things that draws me to acting).

Today at my voice lesson, my teacher told me I have the "perfect" voice for Belle in Beauty and the Beast. (Lyric Theatre is having auditions for that show coming up, which is why we were working on one of the songs.) He said I have that Disney-style mix-belt. At first I thought that was a fascinating evaluation. My second reaction was to not be so surprised. Disney musicals influenced my formative singing years more than any other genre. How many times did I sing "Part of That World" from The Little Mermaid while in the shower? I loved that song! If I had grown up listening to rock, I'd probably have a more rock sounding voice. But I listened to The Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast and things like that.

And, too, I think a lot of my insecurities and weaknesses are based in my childhood, too.

It's funny to think how I'm officially an adult — and yet I'm still that same kid singing and playing dress up. It's a good thing I adore that kid. :)

Update

It's been a while since I've posted. Too long, actually. It's difficult to keep up an acting blog when one isn't acting or even auditioning.

There's been a lack of new developments that leaves me feeling stalled. I feel like I'm in a rut. There are times when I feel absolutely empowered to take control of my destiny. That feeling has been more elusive lately. Optimism and empowerment go hand in hand, but they're not the same thing. When I feel optimistic, I feel lucky. I feel like I can make it as a professional actor. I feel like I can audition for shows and be cast. When I feel empowered, I feel like I can make things happen for myself even when they don't happen naturally. Maybe I won't get cast, but I can put on a cabaret or make a movie or do something else to create opportunity for myself. When I feel empowered, I am motivated to work hard on what is in my control.

I haven't been feeling very optimistic or empowered recently.

But I keep plugging away at things, and I feel good about those. I stretch every day to improve my flexibility. I can almost do the splits (left side only) now. My fall dance class was excellent, and I'm going to take the same class again this coming semester. I am continuing with my weekly voice lessons. I asked Adam for a digital voice recorder, and I got one. So I will be able to record my voice lessons and work on them between lessons. Putting in that extra work will be very good for me, I know.

Onward and (hopefully) upward!

Sick

Of all the things that can make me feel completely stalled and impotent, the most effective is being sick.

Today marks Day 11 with a vicious cough/cold. Yesterday's voice lesson did not feel productive. My voice teacher said I sounded good and clear; I thought I sounded like crap. I could hear the effects of my cold in my voice, and I could feel the effects in how difficult it was to sing. (Oddly, I had more trouble with my middle range than my upper range.) Then dance class yesterday was fun but exhausting. By the end, I felt so out of breath! I felt like I was going to pass out. (We're doing a can-can, which is all jumping and kicking, very aerobic.) I also sleep more and have less energy in general, which makes it difficult to accomplish things during the day.

On the up side, I am making good on my goal to read more plays. I have so far read Saint Joan, Death and the Maiden, No Exit and Rumors.

Zombies

There's something about letting go of yourself and doing something absolutely ridiculous that is so important.

On Saturday I left my stress behind and pretended to be a zombie. I wasn't trying to find a job. I wasn't trying to advance my acting career (even as I was acting). I wasn't worrying about my looks. I just indulged in something that had no other purpose than to be fun.

I came up with a zombie-doll concept for my costume. I did the hair and eyelashes (which were my favorite bit). Becca did my lip wound. I did my zombie makeup with later touch-ups by Becca. Makeup design overall was by Triptych, Becca and Sara's makeup business (which I hope to help them expand).

Feeling Discouraged

It's inevitable. It's impossible to feel positive and optimistic all the time, and inevitably I fall into feeling discouraged. A little over a month ago, I felt I was on the brink of really cool change in my life. Now, with no job and no change in my situation, I'm feeling a little hopeless.

I feel a little bit better after my voice lesson. It helped put things in perspective. It comes down to the same thing: taking action and creating opportunities for myself. That's true when I'm optimistic and things are going my way — and it's definitely true when I'm feeling down. Still, it can be hard to motivate myself to work on creating opportunities when I feel like it will be a waste of time anyway.

I need to dig myself out of this hole and start making things happen for myself.

Pursuing my dream

This feels right.

I'm starting to take some small steps toward what I know I want, and it feels good. There's a clarity of purpose. It all seems to make sense. There's a joy in the idea of pursuing my dream, as crazy and improbable as that dream may be. I had a funny breakthrough the other day. I was thinking about how scary the thought of moving to New York and really trying for it would be. And then I laughed out loud. Of course it's scary! It's supposed to be scary. There would probably be something wrong with me if it weren't scary.

For now my goal is to focus on the spring auditions: StrawHat, NETC and VATTA. So, I'll definitely prepare an audition that I can use VATTA (the Vermont auditions, which are open). And, I hope I'll be able to also use it at StrawHat and/or NETC. Those are the non-union professional auditions (for summer-stock and regional theatres) that you have to apply to audition for.

Action: Voice Lessons

I'm continuing with voice lessons — which, phrased like that, has a way of sounding less useful than it is. I think it's like exercising as opposed to a lesson in the sense of learning something new. It's not that I go in and he teaches me how to sing. I already know how to sing. It's about developing my singing voice and becoming a stronger singer.

The belting challenge continues to be interesting. For the most part, I'm not doing a pure belt but am doing a belt-mix. And that might be just what my voice does. My teacher doesn't want to "put pressure" on me or my voice, trying to get a true belt instead of a belt-mix. He says my belt-mix is "terrific" and that he kills himself trying to get people to do (mixing) what I'm doing naturally. So, yay!

I also might have some opportunities coming up through my voice lessons: to take part in a cabaret and/or to take an auditioning workshop from an NYC agent.

Action: Reading

I have finished reading A Challenge for the Actor by Uta Hagen, and I also read A Practical Handbook for the Actor. The two couldn't be more different. And I like that because I think my preferred acting style lies somewhere in the middle.

The title of the second book is such a turnoff. Acting isn't supposed to be practical; it's supposed to be creative. The title makes acting seem so boring. And the approach to acting in the book kind of is. It suggests using substitutions because "you will never be able to believe that you are the character you are playing." I suppose that's true strictly speaking. But I think the point of acting is the willing suspension of disbelief. Really believing I am a certain character might not happen, but I don't have to remind myself that I'm not that character, either. The book also dismisses feelings/emotions. I think there's room for feelings/emotions, but I agree with the main reasoning against feelings. If you're relying on feelings to play a scene, they might not be there for you. And if you think you have to "feel" a certain way, a) it's presupposing an emotional state instead of being in the moment and b) you will "fail" and have nowhere to do if those feelings aren't occurring. Instead, having a strong sense of purpose gives rise to natural character, action and emotion with the flexibility of being in the moment. There are some gems of wisdom I can draw from the book, while dismissing much of the rest of it as being too "practical" and detached for my tastes.

Uta Hagen's book I found to be a fascinating mixed bag. I intend to read it again and make notes of things I like and dislike. Some of it I found to be overly self-indulgent, pretentious or irrelevant. I've never been one to think an actor has to know the character's name and complete biography in order to play a role. Or does it really matter if I'm able to convince myself (using sensory exercises) that a stove is really hot? Other aspects of her book are extremely analytical and illuminating. Physicality can be such a tricky thing for any actor. Her dissections of things such as eye contact or visual focus and the act of waiting (not doing nothing, but doing a dozen little things) make me so excited to get onstage again and use those tools to feel less awkward with blocking, etc.

Possible and Impossible

It's interesting how my outlook can vary from day to day or even hour to hour (with no other obvious changes in my situation).

Some days, I feel like everything in my being is electric with possibility. I feel like I'm on the brink of wonderful change and opportunity. These are the days when I think I can make it as a professional actor. These are the days when even mundane, little things like doing the dishes make me feel like I'm taking decisive steps toward my dreams.

Some days, I feel completely stagnant. I feel like the summary of my life is that I got fired from a job I didn't like, so I have no chance of ending up with a job I do like. These are the days when I doubt my ability to get cast in another community theater show. These are the days when even "real" steps like my singing lessons or dance class seem like baby steps to nowhere.

And most days fall somewhere in the middle.

Good Philosophy

I am bookmarking these thoughts for myself. Some of them are very helpful.

I'm in a pretty good place mentally.

Edit (9/16/07): More thoughts.

Action: Dance Class

I wrestled for a while about which dance class to register for: level one or level two. I figured level two might be a bit too hard, and that level one would be too easy.

I think I was right. (I don't know how easy level one is. But it was tagged as being appropriate for beginners.)

I signed up for level two because I'd rather push myself and challenge myself. I'm sure I could get something out of either class. But I think I'll get more out of level two. The only problem would be if it were so hard I just couldn't possibly keep up.

The class is quite challenging for me. And I think that's a good thing!

Dancing (for me) is made up of three things: learning the moves, executing the moves and expression. Generally, I find learning the moves to be the biggest challenge for me. So in last night's class, I could do all the moves — there were no splits or backbends or things I physically couldn't accomplish — but mastering the sequence of moves (in time with the music) was the part that challenged me.

Next week we're adding to the dance we started learning. So I'll practice the moves between now and then.

Action: Voice Lessons

Some voice lessons feel more productive than others. (Even the ones that don't feel productive I trust to have a cumulative effect.)

Yesterday's lesson felt productive.

Having sung for years in my head voice (even when I thought I was belting), it is a challenge for me to learn how to belt.

My voice teacher says I have a nice belt — when I can get the belt. He also says I have a very good mix, which he says sounds very similar to my belt (and that is a "tremendous asset").

So the goal is to develop those three parts of my voice: belt, mix and legit (head voice). I want to be able to really feel the difference between each and have control over when I use them. (Right now, that's the challenge: When I'm trying to belt, I'm often actually mixing and sometimes even using my head voice.)

Yesterday's lesson felt like I made some progress toward that end.

Voice lessons have really helped me so far — and I look forward to improving even more.

Action: Reading

I am currently reading Uta Hagen's A Challenge for the Actor. It is already fascinating stuff. She is brilliant and imaginative and liberal, and just the sort of person I think I am or wish I could be.

Most important, 60 pages in, it is really making me think. Some of the stuff I disagree with, and I think part of that is because I'm still trying to find my own style as an actor. She comments frequently on the differences between "formalistic" (outside-in) and "realistic" (inside-out) actors, wholly preferring the latter.

Intellectually, I've always wanted to be that second kind of actor. I've always wanted to have an imagination so deep that I could be completely in every scene. I've always wanted to feel those emotions fully, to truly be grieved or amused or angry, etc. when my character is feeling it. And I want to be spontaneous instead of static.

And, I think, at times, I do achieve that. But...

I also think there's a lot to be said for outside-in. I've known too many actors who claim to really be feeling what their character is going through — Interestingly, that is usually during scenes of grief, turmoil or angst. And people seldom seem to brag about truly feeling happy when their characters are happy. — and despite their tremendous "feeling," they are communicating nothing. Their faces are blank. They are suffering inside, but they aren't showing it. I find that kind of acting to be self-indulgent and worthless.

The ideal, of course, is to really feel in such away that you are able to let those emotions loose on the stage and behave in character. But if there's a choice to be made between really feeling while outwardly showing nothing and not feeling while outwardly communicating that feeling, I'll choose the latter.

And the element of believing in the truth of the scene and characters can have positives and negatives. Uta Hagen recounts an anecdote of Laurence Olivier (a formalistic actor) playing a part with "incredible involvement and spontaneity" and then saying "I don't like that kind of acting; I didn't know what I was doing." I agree. I've had that happen in a couple cases. I was so involved in the scene that I really was feeling what my character was feeling, that I believed I was in this world and not on a stage. It happened without my planning or trying for it. I embraced it and reveled in it; it felt amazing. But I have no idea whether I communicated with the audience. I have no idea whether my inward belief transferred out. That is the trick: transferring that inward belief and feeling into outward communication (expressions, movements, vocal tone, etc.).

Action

I'm feeling a bit trapped. Okay, I'm feeling a lot trapped. My sadness is maybe 10% related to Urinetown being over — and 90% related to nothing new beginning. It's like everything came screeching to a halt. (Or, rather, that with the end of the show, I realized how stalled I am with regard to my goals.)

It used to be that every few months I'd have a bout of "why am I not pursuing an acting career?" Those bouts would last about 2-3 days. And then I'd answer the question: Because I don't want to struggle financially in the big city and possibly never get anywhere. Because I don't want to give up a nice, comfortable home and great friends for so much less.

It's now been several months (at least six) ... and that question hasn't gone away. The pragmatic answer doesn't satisfy anymore. More and more I've come to feel that I can't ever really be satisfied and happy in my life if I'm not pursuing what I know I want more than anything. More and more I resent my job for not being what I want it to be.

I am happiest when I'm performing on stage. I thought I might experience a bit of stage fright during Urinetown because I felt like people (audiences) were judging me. But I never felt that. It only ever felt right and perfect and exhilirating. This is where I belong. This is where I feel happiest. This is where I feel simultaneously the most comfortable and the most energized.

Here's my list of things I can do to take action:

Continue voice lessons

Take dance class

Read plays

See more plays

Read some acting books

Save up money and pay down debt

Take acting class/lesson(s) if possible

Write a play/movie/skit/musical

Put together a cabaret

Get headshots taken

Prepare audition materials (monologues and songs)

I'm Feeling Old and Pessimistic

When we were performing the final show, I didn't feel sad. It didn't feel like the end. It felt like the beginning — the beginning of a wonderful theatre career.

Now that feeling is gone.

I turn 30 in less than a week. That's not that old in "real life" terms. But for a female actor, it's practically ancient. Not that there aren't plenty of fabulous roles for women over 30. But it just brings home how many roles I'll no longer be able to play and just how fast time slips away from us. I'm almost 30, and I haven't even started trying to pursue acting professionally. How much hope is there for me?

I'll post more thoughts on the end of the show once I'm feeling a bit better emotionally.

Inspirational Quote

I was reading an article on Allison Janney on Backstage.com, and she said every actor should have this quote (from Martha Graham). I'd read it before, but it bears remembering. Here it is:

"There is a vitality, a life-force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."

Compliment and rejection

So, last night after the show, a guy came up to Kevin and asked to be introduced to me. He was a prominent voice teacher in the area, and he said I sounded terrific and that every word I sang was clear. Yay! :)

... And then I got rejected from West Side Story, of course. Yet again, I didn't even get into the chorus. *grumps*

Audition thoughts

I didn't get cast in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. And, personally, I thought I was better than the girl who did get cast. But she was good, so the decision was still safely in the realm of subjectivity. Sometimes, though, talent is not subjective. There are clearly people who are good and people who are not good. And I've been rejected from shows where someone who could not sing and could not act was cast. Those are the ones that I can never quite get over because I can't even begin to understand them. And I'm still kind of bitter and resentful (because I was treated unfairly). So, with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, I'm a bit grumbly, and I still think I was better, but I recognize that the girl cast was good, so it's just a simple matter of opinion (not insanity).

Last night I auditioned for West Side Story. It went ... okay. Not great because I'm sick — so I didn't sound as good as I could have and I wasn't energized and fully in it. I also messed up the dance audition (which I had done fine up until that point). Oh, well.

Right now I'm mostly focused on trying to be at my best for Urinetown performances, so I'm not really very stressed about auditions. And I keep reminding myself that I'll end up where I need to be, in the situation that's right for me.

A lot of Urinetown folks were at auditions, and that was fun. We root for each other, and we care about each other. So, it made me feel warm and fuzzy that one of the kids thought I would make a great Anita, even if my audition wasn't superb and even if I don't get cast. And he had a phenomenal reading, which was so exciting to see.

It's fun to see other people doing well, especially if they're people you know and like.

The people who really want it

I've always had a great deal of resentment for people who casually walk into auditions and get cast, the people who don't stress over getting a role because they don't care that much, the people who get so many leads that a chorus role is like a rejection. Basically, the people who don't appreciate what they have.

There's a part of me that's mystified by people who don't want to act — or by people who do want to act but don't want to do it all the time. (My husband, for example, is a good actor and enjoys acting but is more than happy to take several months off after doing a show.)

So it felt great to talk to Alex (21-year-old daughter of the producer, and herself co-producer, co-director and co-choreographer of Urinetown). Here, finally, was someone else who feels the same way I do, someone who has had similar experiences of lots of rejection. She gets it! We talked about how we'd be happy doing regional theatre and summer stock. We talked about how if we could just be gypsies for the rest of our lives, we'd be thrilled. Sure leads and Broadway are the ideal, and we wouldn't say no. But we love it enough and want it enough to happily settle for "less." That's what love is.

And in a way, we have something that other performers lack: joy and gratitude. Rejection is still hard. I'll never like rejection, even though I can understand the way that it's "good." It means that when we do get cast, we appreciate it that much more. And because we love what we do so much, we experience a joy that other people don't.

Emotional Roller-Coaster

The past few days have been a bit crazy emotionally.

Tuesday night I auditioned for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. That audition went pretty well. It was tough to switch gears from being so deep into playing Hope to then have to play Southern-accented Maggie the Cat. There was another girl there who was quite good — though I thought I was better. And apparently there were other people who were good on Monday night. I really want the role of Maggie. I'm trying to decide whether I'd accept Mae, and I'm leaning toward no. We'll see how that one turns out.

After being out late eating post-audition sushi, I had to go home ... and memorize a Shakespearean monologue for an audition at 10 the next morning! Yes, I'm a procrastinator, but I would have preferred not to have had to do this at the last minute. Unfortunately, I had no time to memorize it earlier. Fortunately, I am extremely speedy at memorizing lines, so I memorized the monologue (Emilia from Act IV, Scene 3 of Othello) in about half an hour.

So I got up on Wednesday morning and went to audition for Vermont Stage Company and a director who is notoriously snobby about acting/casting. (I don't say that to be disparaging. It's just that if he doesn't think he can find the talent he's looking for in the local area, he'll go to New York to cast shows.) My goal going in was just to showcase myself well and not embarrass myself. Hey, I'm not very experienced with Shakespeare, and my monologue was under-prepared. I just wanted to not jeopardize any possible future auditions for him (by causing him to think, "Oh, here comes that girl who isn't good.")

I did the monologue. Then he said, he wanted me to do the monologue again and that he was going to give me "adjustment." So he told me to play it stronger. I did the monologue again. I could tell he seemed pleased during one point, and then he said, "Yeah!"

Success! Who knows whether I'll get in, and I won't hear for a while anyway. They're doing King Lear in the spring. But I think I did well and didn't embarrass myself. :)

Then between my giddy post-audition mood and the fact that it was opening night, I was bouncing around the house all day. I had no appetite and was feeling totally distracted.

The first performance I was kind of displeased with. There were some errors (not mine), problems with the monitor not working (which affected some of my songs) ... and just generally I don't think I did as well as I would have liked. So I was rather disappointed.

Then yesterday I tried to take it easy ... because I think I'm getting sick. (Several people in our cast are sick.) My throat hurt, and I didn't feel great vocally. But overall the show felt much better! Crazy. Friends and cast-mates told me I sounded good, even though I felt like I was struggling vocally.

So now I'm at work, feeling exhausted (and blue) and unwell. (My throat really hurts.) And my goal for the next two days is just to get through the performances in one piece, without killing my voice or getting more ill.

Last night, Cladwell (aka Patient Zero) gave me a shot of a concoction he was using for his voice: vinegar, water, cayenne pepper, lemon and honey. And it tasted like it, too! But I think it helped.

Joy and Sadness

Dress rehearsal last night went really well. A couple small problems, which is to be expected, but terrific overall. The music director said it was the best I had ever sung "I See A River," and it was. It felt great!

And it strikes me so powerfully how the things that can bring the most joy to our lives can also bring the most sadness. I am never happier than when I am performing on stage. Having a wonderful leading role gives me so much joy (from Eliza in high school to Corie a year and a half ago to Hope now).

And then I got to bed at 12:30 a.m. and had to get up at 6:30 a.m. to get ready for an early meeting at work ... and the bleakness associated with that makes me feel sad. I want nothing so much as I want to act (and sing and dance) all the time. So whenever I'm not doing it, there's a certain level of sadness and yearning that comes when I'm not doing it.

I'm still stuck in that phase of trying to figure things out. Is it worth taking the risk? If I try to pursue theatre professionally, there's a potential that I could do it more ... but a greater potential that I could do it less. Ack! Well, I'm going to audition for local shows in the next week and a half, and we'll see how things turn out on that front.

These photos are from dress rehearsal and are © 2007, Adam Silverman.

Eek!

I saw an audition notice in the paper for Vermont Stage Company. Since the audition appointments are taking place during Saturday's Urinetown rehearsal, there wasn't any way I could attend.

But, wait! As much as it would be emotionally easier to say I couldn't do it, that does not fit in with my new philosophy of aggressively pursuing what I want. So I sent an e-mail asking whether there would be any other audition times. The director e-mailed back and said I should call him to set up another time. This is the point where I get all weirdly nervous until I pluck up the courage to call. (Why did I need courage? I'd already made the initial contact, and he'd already indicated his willingness to schedule a different time.)

So, then it turns out that in addition to Inspecting Carol, for which they'll have sides to be read from, they're casting King Lear. He requested a monologue and to give me time to prepare something, I have an audition scheduled for 10 a.m. Wednesday, which I have taken off of work because it's Urinetown's opening night.

Eek! I have to prepare a (short, 1-minute) Shakespearean monologue in just a few days! Amidst all the Urinetown rehearsals! And auditions for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof! ... And have I mentioned that I'm pretty damn inexperienced in Shakespeare, having done only Conrade in Much Ado About Nothing? Eek! Well, it's a good thing that I'm a quick study and good at memorizing lines!

It's daunting, but I need to remind myself that I have nothing to lose. That's why I've decided to go through with auditioning, even though it's scary.

Roaaarrr! Go me!

Several months ago, when I was at a really low point, I went out to Chinese food. (That, in itself, is unusual because I almost never eat Chinese food.) When the fortune cookies came out, I just knew that my fortune was somehow going to be very appropriate. And the fortune turned out to be "If you can't accept losing, you can't win." Wow.

That's kind of guided my actions recently, and I think it was my aggressive pursuit of whatever opportunities I could grasp at that got me Urinetown. Of course, philosophies are delightful things when they work out in our favor. The challenge for me will be to keep that attitude when Urinetown ends and I'm facing more auditions and more rejections.

Acting conflicted

I remember reading once that being "conflicted" is one of the most difficult things to play. And I think it's true. I read a philosophy that it's not possible to play "conflicted." It's not possible to play wanting two things simultaneously. All that comes out is mud. Instead, the way to play being conflicted, is to strongly want one thing and then strongly want the other.

That makes a lot of sense, but it's still tricky. There's a lot of internal monologues going on. The challenge is to communicate it to the audience. It's difficult to find a balance that communicates well and looks good and fits with the character.

In Urinetown, I have a section where everyone is on one side or the other, except for conflicted me. And I have to go back and forth between what I want and what my motivations are. It is extremely challenging! And it's not showy like crying during a grief scene. It's just the kind of thing where I'll look like an idiot if I don't do it well. But even if I do it wonderfully, people aren't likely to stand up and cheer for my acting ability.

The scene still isn't where I want it. (And it isn't exactly where the director wants it either, but sometimes his direction doesn't make sense with what I think my character's motivations are.) I'm going to really concentrate on it tonight, and I hope I can finally nail it.

Urinetown again

Here are some gratuitous photos of Urinetown rehearsals. There isn't a huge variety of photos available because Adam was at only one rehearsal. It was a dance rehearsal, so there are no photos of "scenes" and it was really dark, so several photos have motion blur. But these are two of my favorites that have me in them.



We moved into the theatre last night — and that was an adventure. It was very weird getting used to the new spacing (with exits, entrances and levels). I fell down some stairs in the big "Act One Finale" and kept going straight over to my costar like I was supposed to. But the half-amused, half-concerned look on his face made me say my lines in a laughing way.

We open a week from today! Eeee!

(Photos © 2007, Adam Silverman)

After the Faire

There were some points when I was regretting having committed to the Green Mountain Renaissance Festival. I was stretched thin. And since I have Urinetown, I didn't need GMRF to get my theatre fix.

But, of course, I still needed to get my princess fix. Ah, my inner 7-year-old must still be appeased! Dressing up in a pretty dress and pretending to be a princess ... I think I love it as much now as I did when I was 7.

I got a nice compliment from a vendor who said I was the most regal royal he had seen, that I was so calm and walked slowly and evenly. And I got some great opportunities to sing, singing along with Royales & Rogues.

I am really quite proud of our little ren faire. It grew a lot this year, and I think it is a great event. I am excited for next year. Just like last year, I feel that weird sense of longing that comes from returning to the real world. Part of me wants to stay immersed in the ren faire world of pretty gowns, English accents, measured strolling, country dancing, renaissance songs and people having fun.

I value dramatic roles and challenging characters. But I also recognize that a big part of what drew me to acting was the desire to dress up and play pretend ... and the Green Mountain Renaissance Festival gives me that. Huzzah!



(All photos © 2007, Adam Silverman)

Vanity vs. Truth

The truth of the character or the show should come first. It should come before an actor's personal vanity.

At the same time, I understand the urge to look as good as possible. Where's the dividing line?

I apply powder foundation and a light coat of mascara (forgoing my usual colorful eyeshadow) to be Mary Tudor at the ren faire. And, given that makeup has been used for centuries and the makeup in question is completely natural looking, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. But I must admit that I do it for the sake of my own vanity.

The line is crossed when vanity interferes with truth.

Such as a fellow actor in Urinetown not wanting to accept the fact that her character is rough, dirty, unglamorous and unfeminine. Such as instances of actors making inappropriate modifications to their costumes in an attempt to look sexier.

I've seen this happen many times. At times it's a small thing that, while it might not be "truthful," doesn't interfere too much with the truth of the character. At times it's done by someone who's new to acting or doesn't take acting too seriously. ... And at times, it's a big thing that does interfere dramatically with the truth of the character and is done by a "serious" actor who should know better. It's then that my tolerance wanes. I don't have respect for actors who so completely put their own needs above the needs of the show.

I am thinking of specific people, but I'm keeping it general because it happens often and is something to consider beyond the specific instances.

... And it's something for me to keep in mind when I'm wanting to feel prettier (or smarter or sexier) than my character.

Assorted Thoughts

The first week of the renaissance festival is over. I had a great time. Mostly it's about the fact that I haven't outgrown my inner 7-year-old, who wants to be a princess. Getting dressed up in a fancy dress and playing pretend is still satisfying. I love dancing in big skirts. I love feeling transformed. Also, I did the chess match perfectly. They said that historically there have always been cheat sheets of some kind for the chess match, but I had it totally memorized without it.

I am glad that I have the ability to memorize lines so well. I am perfectly comfortable in Urinetown at the moment and able to focus on character because I'm not struggling with lines. ... And if I get cast as Maggie in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which I'm planning to audition for, that ability would be very welcome! (The first act is more or less a huge monologue from her. Daunting but exciting!)

Urinetown rehearsal tonight. Tuesday's rehearsal went well and redeemed the previous week's obnoxiousness.

A Rare Grumble

I don't complain about rehearsals often. I love rehearsals. For some people they're a chore. For me, it's just another chance to do what I love. (I don't act, sing or dance for audiences; I do it for me. So I love it even when there isn't an audience.)

But rehearsal last night left me in an extremely grumbly mood today. The cast is young, with a lot of teenagers. And most of them spend their time talking and carrying on — and not paying attention. It's annoying enough in itself. But when they forget their blocking or what they're supposed to be doing, we have to stop and go over it again. It's a big waste of time. Then, of course, people (adults, too) forget their lines or their choreography or their lyrics or their notes. And again, we have to go back and redo what has already been done. (Or relearn what has already been taught.) It makes the process frustrating for those of us who have paid attention and written things down and worked hard to know our lines and songs.

Plus, we have this frequently occuring situation where, instead of the director or choreographer coming to rehearsal with prepared blocking or choreography, they stand there and think about it and make it up on the spot. "Hmm... Let me try to figure out what I want you to do here." Granted, it's hard for one person to fully visualize moving 20 people around the stage, so there's naturally going to be some changes and some rearranging if something looks wrong or could work better another way. But at least have some starting point ready when you come to rehearsal (and know the song or scene you're working on)!

Also, our director is in the show. And I think he'll be good in the role ... in general. But it causes the problem you would expect: He can't watch the scenes because he's on stage. And he's not off-book in Act I (even though he presumably set the deadline for being off book in that act).

*grumble* *grumble*

And I'm further grumbly because I'm not scheduled to be at rehearsal on Thursday (dances I'm not in) and will be missing rehearsal on Saturday and (most likely) Sunday — so it will be a week before I have a rehearsal to redeem the last one.

The Fine Line

There's a fine line between confidence and ego. And there's a fine line between confidence and insecurity.

I am of the opinion that bad things happen when an ego gets overinflated. On the other hand, sometimes that delusional level of confidence is needed.

I had a one-on-one rehearsal yesterday to work with the musical director. Throughout my vocal performance (especially the high notes) I perform best when there's no room for insecurity. I perform best when I can trick myself into having an overinflated ego. I can sometimes struggle when I merely think, "Yeah, I'm pretty good." I nail it when I think, "Oh yeah, I am the most awesome singer/actor ever!"

The challenge is to be able to access that high level of confidence when needed and let go of it when it isn't appropriate. I want to have a big ego insofar as it helps my performance. I don't want to have a big ego where it could lead to cockiness or laziness.

The music director said to me yesterday, "Do you know what the director said when he heard you sing your final number the other day?" I said, "No, I don't know." And the music director told me, "He said, 'Wow! If she sings like that, she's going to steal the show.'"

That's the kind of compliment I didn't think I would ever hear. And now the challenge is to believe it and to harness the power of it ... without letting it go to my head.

Rehearsal thoughts

Rehearsal last night for the Green Mountain Renaissance Festival went well. I've learned my fight, which is fun, even though I lose. It's a bit tough on my knees, though. I have pressure bruises from the hard floor. Also, I tried on the bodice for my costume, which means I get a new dress this year. Hooray! We were supposed to be off book for the first scene, which I managed to do with no problem. (The chess match dialogue will be much more daunting.) I'm fortunate that memorizing lines comes easily to me. Otherwise, I'd be freaking out right now.

As it is, I feel over-committed and a bit overwhelmed. I'm still glad I'm in both shows. But I think that being involved in two shows is a bit too much — even as much as I love rehearsals.

Urinetown rehearsal tonight. Yay! I am loving the show, and it's going well. I'm nervous about a couple of things — my costar's reluctance to touch me and the fact that a couple of scenes we've hardly touched on (while others have gotten lots of attention) — but overall I think it's on track to be great.

In other news ... Can I quit my job and be a professional actor? Please?

Stealing the Show

I've never stolen a show before. It's something that's always fascinating to me, though. And, I'll admit it, I've always wanted to steal a show.

At times I've thought it's because I'm not in a big enough role. But that's not really true. Stealing a show is done by people specifically not in the leads. That's why it's called "stealing" a show. No one would ever say the actor playing Val Jean stole Les Miserables or the actor playing Eva Peron stole Evita.

Sometimes it's a function of the material: One character gets the funniest lines or one terrific song. That's why Joanne can so often "steal" Company from Bobby. It's why a character like Ado Annie can upstage the blander Laurie.

And material is always relevant. The funniest or most brilliant actor in the world would be hard-pressed to steal the show if it's a tiny and/or boring role.

But it's also up to the actor. If certain roles are natural show stealers, certain actors naturally rise to the occasion and steal the scene or show. And I think it's usually about being funny. (It's harder to steal the show with a dramatic performance than a funny performance.)

Everybody in Spamalot was funny. The material was funny and the actors were funny. But Christian Borle stole the show as Not Dead Fred and Prince Herbert. On the other hand, Christian Borle did not manage to steal Thoroughly Modern Millie in the somewhat tame role of Jimmy. It's a combination of role/material and an actor's talents.

In Urinetown, the whole cast is in agreement that one of the actors is going to totally steal the show. (It's not me. Alas! I'm still not funny enough.) Part of it is that she has good, funny material to work with. But she's in a relatively small — though featured — role. But her facial expressions and what she does with the role are so funny! You can't help but want to watch her. (It will be interesting to see if the audience finds her as hilarious and captivating as the cast does.)

Rehearsal Update

Rehearsals for Urinetown are going pretty well — some ups and some downs.

For example, last night I really did a poor job with my solos in "Follow Your Heart." On the other hand, my first solo bit in "Mr. Cladwell" (sung while the ensemble is singing something different) I did well enough to cause one person to almost start laughing and caused another person to say, "Wow, you were singing over all the rest of us combined!"

My costar (who wasn't there last night) was the subject of round mocking from the director for his objection to "touching girl parts." So there were many references to people's "contracts" and whether "touching girl parts" was disallowed. It was pretty funny.

I'm eager to be back at rehearsal to redeem myself for "Follow Your Heart."

A Great Compliment

At Tuesday night's rehearsal, we sang through several songs (including some with my featured bits). Then at rehearsal Saturday morning, the director raised his hand for a high-five and said to me, "You sounded great the other day! I was really impressed."

I'm discovering that the months and years of rejection have taken more of a toll on my confidence than I would like. So hearing something like that was wonderful.

Good things

I had a fun time at rehearsal last night. It's so wonderful to actually be in a musical again! It's wonderful pretty much every time I'm in a play or musical. I'm loving where I am, and I'm excited to see what might happen next. I'm probably going to audition for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and if I don't get that, then audition for West Side Story.

It's important for me to keep moving. That means enjoying the good things (like playing Hope in Urinetown!) while continuing to learn, grow and seek out new opportunities to learn or perform.

I am so giddy to be in Urinetown. It feels like the whole world has opened up and that I'm not doomed to an endless string of rejections. I have to balance that optimism and not get my hopes up, though.

What is acting anyway?

Some assorted thoughts that I've been thinking on lately:

Acting is ...

Letting go of fear and being willing to take risks.
Jumping in with both feet.
Remaining open to new ideas.
Exploring.
Creating.
Being in the moment.
Keeping things fresh and new.
Reacting.
Responding.
Listening.
Improv.
Communicating.
Taking a journey.
Being present.
Making a connection with your fellow actors.
Making a connection with your audience.
Experimenting.
Feeling.
Telling a story.

Acting should not be ...

Inhibited.
Fearful.
Self-indulgent.
Literal.
Static.
Predictable.

Acting with Singers

It's been four and a half years since I've done a musical. Before that, it was high school. In the meantime, though, I have done several straight plays.

And I've discovered the drawback to musicals.

I adore musicals. I always have. I love singing, dancing and acting, so what better than to do all three in one?

Unfortunately, not everybody shares my mindset. Acting is just that thing you have to do so you can get to the singing and dancing.

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. But the truth is that the majority of musical theatre performers in the area are singers (or dancers) first. I think of myself as a singer. I think I'm a darn good singer, too. But when it comes down to it, I consider myself an actor first and then a singer. I'm an actor who sings instead of a singer who acts.

I think that most of the performers in Urinetown are pretty competent in all three areas. But there are some who are good singers ... with little to no acting talent.

That's the great thing about plays. In plays, you're performing with other actors. In musicals, you're more likely to have to pull non-actors along with you through the scenes.

Another theatre company around here said that in auditions they would be looking for singing ability, dancing ability and acting potential.

Jana says the problem is that it's hard to find good actors. I think the problem is that they don't try to find good actors. They don't think acting is as important as singing or dancing. They cast the people with the best singing voices. And if the singers can't act, they muddle their way through. I don't know if they recognize or appreciate good acting.

That, I think, is another reason why I want to try for a professional acting career. I'd like to think that in a professional milieu, I'd be more likely to find myself among strong singers who are also strong actors.

Miscellaneous Thoughts

1. My last rehearsal before vacation (going to my sister's wedding) was ... not-good. I think that somehow I strain my voice when I'm focused on learning new music (especially harmonies). So by the time we got to my G's and A-flats, my voice was not in good shape. (Plus allergies, being tired, being stressed, etc.)

2. I got nervous singing at my sister's wedding. Why? I never used to get nervous when performing. I only used to get nervous at auditions. I had major butterflies in my stomach. My husband said I sounded great, though.

3. I'm not much of a dancer when it comes to choreographed movement. I'm decent, but not great. But I know I can pretty much always tear up the dance floor at a club, wedding reception, etc. That's a good feeling. (And I always get compliments.)

4. Urinetown rehearsal on Tuesday was much better. And I'm getting excited all over again. In a few minutes I'll be off to another rehearsal.

5. I'm only 5'6" — but I feel freakishly tall in the world of theater (at least community theater in Vermont). I am frequently the tallest woman auditioning. For Urinetown, I'm pretty sure I'm the tallest woman in the show. Odd.

Top G

I have a kind of love-hate relationship with the G above the staff. That G just keeps taunting me.

It's in my range, but it's at the upper reaches of my range. Sometimes I can hit it really well. Other times it sounds thin and squeaky.

I first became acquainted with this note during My Fair Lady. Until that show, I had always considered myself an alto. I'm more accurately a mezzo-soprano or second soprano. But I always enjoyed the challenge of singing harmony and feel more comfortable in my lower to middle range. And then there's this G in two songs: at the end of "I Could Have Danced All Night" and at the end of "Show Me." It was a tough note to hit, but I did it. It's a scary note. Missing it is not pretty. The role was double cast, and the other girl playing Eliza had her voice crack on that note. (And for the second song, she didn't even attempt it.) I have to admit that part of me took a certain amount of pleasure in the fact that her voice cracked and mine didn't. There's some schadenfreude for you. (I did feel sorry for her, too, though. So it wasn't completely mean.)

During Damn Yankees I also sang that G. It was in the "Heart" reprise at the curtain call. I felt more confident in general, and I didn't have the pressure of having to sing it solo, so that one was pretty easy.

For Lauren's wedding, I'm singing "Unexpected Song," which ends on ... the G above the staff. Lauren said to me, "The piano player wants to know whether you can hit that G." "Yes, I can sing that G," I replied confidently. And then immediately thought, "Oh god, can I hit it?"

During my voice lesson, my teacher took the last verse of the song down a step because I was having trouble hitting it well. The following week, I had a strong suspicion that he forgot to take it down. But I told myself that he didn't forget, and that gave me the confidence to hit that note.

The problem is when I psych myself out. When I worry about it, I don't do well. When I convince myself that I can sing that G well, I do fine. And my voice teacher says we vocalize almost an octave higher. So it's really not out of my range. It's just outside of my comfortable range.

And now there's Urinetown. I don't have to just hit that note at the end of the song (like every other time I've had to sing it). There are some songs where I basically bop around on that G (or just below it) for several measures at a time! Haha! And I have to go a half-step higher, too: to a G-sharp or A-flat.

So I'm obviously going to have to become very familiar with that G. I can't ignore it anymore. I can't sing it once and be done. I'm going to have to become comfortable with that G (or as comfortable as I can get). The solution is clear: I can't hate the G any more. I can't fear the G any more.

I must learn to love that G.

Audition Documentary

I really, really want to see this documentary: Casting About.

I was a big fan of Bravo's The It Factor (and was one of probably 10 people who watched it). This seems like that — only more.

There's something at once depressing and comforting about watching the auditioning process.

It's scary to watch just how many talented people get nowhere. But it's also reassuring; it reminds us that talent does not equal success (and that success doesn't always indicate talent). And it shows me that a) there are people out there who are a lot worse than I am and b) there are people out there who are a lot better than I am.

Reaching for your dreams, pursuing something you love ... It's beautiful. And sometimes tragically so. But it's still kind of inspiring.

First rehearsal

First rehearsal for Urinetown was Sunday. It's finally feeling real ... or starting to.

The cast seems nice, though I don't really know people yet. I'm quite gregarious once I know people, but that warming-up period is sometimes a little awkward. I'm thankful for Maria, whom I know vaguely from some other auditions, being so friendly.

We rehearsed the first song, which starts out easy — and becomes really difficult! I'll really need to practice the last 20 bars. It's been a while since I've been in a musical and learning a harmony, but it's something I've always enjoyed. I like the challenge. It's really good to be back!

I got singled out for praise at one point early in the rehearsal when I was the only person (or one of the only people) watching the music director as we sang. He said that if everybody just kept their eyes on their books, he didn't serve much purpose conducting at the front and felt like he was just having a weird spasm or something. Heehee!

I am eager to show how professional I am and how seriously I take the responsibility. Being in a musical is so much fun, but it is work, too. It's good, fun work, and I want to work hard. The stress and anxiety of auditioning is over. But I don't just care about the results of casting. I care that I have been cast. I care about doing well in this role.

Lame show, great friends

It has been four and a half years since I've been in a musical! That last musical was Damn Yankees in early 2003.

As a theatrical experience, it was less than great. I was in the women's chorus, which does almost nothing in the show. Seriously: I sang in half a song, danced in a song and a half and had about three lines. It didn't help to be working with a director who treated non-leads as unimportant.

As a life-changing experience, however, it is one of the pivotal moments in my life. It was through Damn Yankees that I met some of my closest, dearest friends. (And through them, I met other close friends.)

I think that might be another reason why I don't turn up my nose at tiny roles or bland shows.

No ego

Last night was the first meeting for Urinetown. They handed out scripts and talked about expectations.

At one point, the producer was talking about how egos weren't welcome. Every person is part of the cast and no more or less important than any other cast member. He singled me out randomly and said, "Kristin's playing Hope. But she's just as much a part of the ensemble as anybody else." The team emphasized that there are no "stars."

I wanted to laugh because, for me, the thought of having a gigantic ego over having a large role is ludicrous. Getting this part doesn't give me an overinflated ego. It gives me just enough of a boost to convince me that I'm not insane, that I do have talent and that I'm not doomed to an endless string of rejections.

Ego isn't really based on getting cast. If it were, what does that mean about the size of my ego considering all the rejections I've suffered recently?

My voice teacher said, "All the pretty girls want to play the lead." I agree, but...

I said, sure, I'd always love to play the lead. But guess what? I'd also quite happily play the third girl from the left. And I have. Countless times. This is only my second lead in a musical. I've had a blast playing "Woman #1" (really!) in Sweet Charity and in the ensemble in Jesus Christ Superstar and several other shows.

Joy!

I got cast as Hope in Urinetown!

Finally, I get to do a musical — after four and a half years! (And the last musical I did was female chorus in Damn Yankees, which practically doesn't count.)

Of course, now I'm feeling slightly paranoid. Did I dream it? Or maybe I misheard. It doesn't help that the call was straight out of a cell-phone commercial:

Producer: We'd like to offer you the role of Hope.
Me: Oh, thank you!
Producer: ... Hello?
Me: Can you hear me? Hello?
Phone: *is dead*
Me: Ack! Oh my god! *dials rapidly to call the guy back*

After I called him back he repeated the offer, since he hadn't heard my response. So maybe I didn't dream it.

I have yet to figure out what will be happening with regard to the ren faire. I feel kind of guilty about that — but not too guilty. After all, I need to do what's right for me.

And I am so excited! :D

Callbacks

I auditioned for Urinetown yesterday, and I got called back, though I don't know for which role yet. :)

It feels good to be called back and not have to wonder whether I totally suck.

For this show, though, I have a tremendous amount of conflicted feelings. I think it would be a fun show to do, and I am desperate to be in a musical again. But I would have to give up a lot to be in the show: my summer class, going to New York (and other location TBD) in August and (possibly) the ren faire.

"You know what your decision is — which is not to decide."

I'll just have to see how things turn out. On one hand, being rejected is never fun. On the other hand, if I don't get cast, I don't have to make any difficult decisions! I'm not sure what would make me happier: being in a musical or having things be simple. Well, I'll have to wait to hear about casting before I know what's going on this summer. And I'll be off to call backs in a little while ...

I Want to Be a Princess

I adore acting. I love the emotional aspect. I love going new places emotionally and exploring psychology. I love reflecting the human condition.

... But there's also a part of me that fell in love with acting because I wanted to dance around in pretty dresses.

We had rehearsal last night for the ren faire, where we did some of the dances. I might not consider it a "real" show or exactly the type of acting I most want to do. Still, it's kind of hard to beat dancing and getting the chance to wear a pretty dress and be a princess. (I'm Mary Tudor this year.)

My erudite, Sondheim-loving adult self yearns for an intelligent musical or incredible play; my inner 6-year-old couldn't be happier. :D

Where I Am

I'm excited about some projects and opportunities I have coming up.

At the minimum, I will be performing in the Green Mountain Renaissance Festival this summer (as Mary Tudor) and in a class called "Acting Through Song." Plus, I'll be continuing with my voice lessons.

I have auditions on Saturday for Urinetown. I'm not sure what I want the outcome to be. Maybe that's a good thing! Hopefully, it will allow me to relax and get some good practice with auditioning. (On the other hand, even though my heart isn't set on being in the show, I must say I don't want to be rejected again, from yet another show.) But if I don't get in, I'll have fun being in the ren faire and taking a class. If I do get in ... well, I haven't quite decided yet whether I'd accept anything or only certain roles. I guess I'll wait and see. (And I decided not to audition for Little Shop of Horrors after all, because it would have taken me out of too much.)

I'm feeling good about where I am. What I'm not feeling good about is where I'm not. I want to take some time to learn, to get myself in gear, to prepare myself. But too much "preparing" can result in little doing. I don't want to get complacent. I don't want to always be waiting to pronounce myself ready.

I glance at the job listings in Playbill.com and other places. And although I'm not auditioning for anything yet, that is my eventual goal. I'm a little bit nervous because I feel how easy it could be to just settle in to community theatre projects and not move forward.

Writing this blog is a way of keeping track of what I'm doing, progress I've made, where I am emotionally — and holding myself accountable. (And it's a nice place to talk about my creative life.)

Stress-free performing

... well, not entirely stress-free.

I spent a rather significant amount of time leading up to "Broadway in Vermont" stressing about it. I was in charge, and didn't really want to be. The cast wasn't coming together the way I would have liked, and it wasn't the grand and clever piece originally envisioned. ... And in the end, I think it was better that way.

Everyone got a huge kick out of the fact that our first rehearsal was in the car while driving to the event! And subsequent rehearsals were held before we went on.

The process was collaborative and relaxed. We were being goofy and having fun — and not taking ourselves too seriously.

Every performer needs to recapture that sometimes. Remember being a kid and putting on a show for your parents? How much rehearsal did that have? Maybe one. I'm not saying that shows should be unrehearsed or that rehearsals are stressful to me. (I love rehearsals!) But maybe we shouldn't always be so focused on perfection. And maybe we should make it a point to allow silliness instead of stress to rule.

The Waiting Game

The Cats production team said we'd hear Monday or Tuesday — and indeed we did. We heard that the show has been cancelled (due to lack of turnout).

The production team is going to do a different show ... and it won't be a dancing show. What a wonderful way to add to my agony! I have to wait even longer to find out whether I've been cast (and what the show even is). And, before, I could comfort myself with the thought that it was a dance show, so it was a long-shot for me. Now, I don't have that comfort. And the only display of my acting (my strongest suit) is of me rolling and leaping around like a cat!

Being a Cat

I had an audition on Saturday for Cats. It's not the type of show I would ordinarily audition for. I'm not an exceptional dancer. I also don't know the show very well, and Webber isn't my favorite. But I'm eager to be in a musical again, so I'm pretty much trying out for everything.

And I had a blast at auditions!

Well, with the exception of my nervousness during the singing audition. What is going on with me? I started out fine, and then I started feeling panicky. And, I was the second-to-last person to sing ... and most of the people who went before me weren't really singers. They ranged from bad to okay to good, but nobody was terrific. I didn't have anything to be nervous about really. But there I was singing, while my insides were jumping all over the place. *sigh*

After the singing was the dance. First we learned the dance combination. It was tricky, but not too hard. After learning it, we performed in pairs. When I performed, I did it the best I had done it to that point, and didn't mess up the steps. ... And then we had to do it again! That unexpected turn made me nervous, and I messed up the second time. (In fact, they had to start the music over. And then I still kind of messed up the second time through.) Oh well. I wasn't going to out-dance the other dancers anyway. Overall, I was pleased with my dance audition. Then we did a series of kicks and leaps and crawling on the floor (to show our extension and movement abilities).

We ended with improv. They'd pull up two or three of us and give us a scenario (e.g. cats fighting then making up, cats stalking something or being stalked). So much fun! It was one of those situations where you could really let go of your inhibitions. I didn't worry about looking silly or stupid — because it was a given that I was going to look silly and stupid! So I just committed to what I was doing. After one round, I realized that I was so involved in that little world that I had no awareness of the production team or the other auditioners. And it was so freeing to crawl and jump around like a cat! It's so different from my normal life of sitting behind a desk.

After the auditions I was extremely sore and tired, but it was a great time and totally worth it. I'll find out today or tomorrow whether I got cast.

A Bird in the Hand...

There are certain shows I'd rather do than others. But I've learned not to pass on auditions for one show just because I'm hoping to get cast in a different show later.

Coming up, there are auditions for Little Shop of Horrors. The production dates conflict with key rehearsal period for West Side Story. So it's impossible to do both shows. If I had my druthers, I'd pick WSS. But I'm not going to not audition for LSoH on the hopes that I'd get cast in the other show. Simple enough.

But I have an option to have a really plum role in the Green Mountain Renaissance Festival. The conflict is that I really should give an answer asap. But I also have two sets of auditions for musicals (LSoH and Cats) coming up. In this case, I'd really rather be in a "real" show than in the ren fest. Plus, I wouldn't have to completely give up being in the ren fest if I said no to the big role and then didn't get the musical. I'd just have to give up the big role.

On the other hand, given my recent bad luck at being cast in anything, I can probably play both sides for the time being. I can say yes to the big ren fest role and audition for the musicals. If I don't get into the musicals (most likely scenario), then I have a nice big role in the ren fest. If I do get into the musicals, well, then I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

Creating a Performance

I've gotten my first good taste of directing in the past few days. (I'm assistant director for A Few Good Men.)

I'm sure I prefer acting. But directing is a great alternative! I still get to help craft a performance, so that's a wonderful feeling. And I find I have some amount of natural talent for it. I could probably be a pretty good director.

What I know of directing comes from having been an actor. And, I think, that directing can help me become a stronger actor.

What's Stopping Me?

My mom told me the other day that the things we think are holding us back aren't always things that actually are holding us back.

That makes a great amount of sense. I saw a TV biography of Stephen King that described how he worked until late at night (after his "real"/day job). Sometimes I think I don't have time to do all the things I want to do, but then I spend an evening sitting on the couch watching a movie on TV I've already seen. That's a result of feeling tired and uninspired. But motivation can overcome tiredness and lack of time.

So I have to ask myself a) What do I want? and b) Do I want it enough to not be lazy about it? The long-term response is that I'd do anything, I'd work my butt off to achieve my dreams. But the short-term response is often that I'd rather take a nap or read. That's the tendency I need to fight against. And that's part of the reason I've started this blog — to hold myself accountable for taking actual steps toward achieving my dreams.

Learning is Power

Why do actors and others take classes? It's probably because it's something — possibly the only thing — they can have in their control.

One of the best ways to learn is by doing, but that's not always an option. So, I sign up for lessons instead of stagnating. I started vocal lessons in early March. And I sent in registration for an "acting through song" class this summer. (I have yet to see if I am actually registered or if the class is full.)

It feels good to be actually doing something. That's an end to itself. And hopefully, it will also be a means to an end (i.e. getting cast in shows).

The other aspect of this (other than the desire to keep moving and doing) is the realization that I might have to work for what I want. I know it sounds ridiculous that I'm just now realizing this. It's primarily because acting and singing never felt like work that I didn't think I had to work at it. This isn't Broadway; it's community theatre. Many people do it just for fun and don't work at it and don't have to. And I know how to sing; I'm a naturally good singer — so why would I need to take singing lessons? But maybe I have to work to improve myself and improve my chances. Maybe, to get what I want, I have to put in some genuine toil.

And what I want is twofold: 1) to gain more opportunities (i.e. being cast) and 2) to improve myself and learn for the sake of learning, which I hope will boost my confidence and the amount of joy I take from my art.

The story behind the URL

My dad reminded me of this story the other day. (I don't actually remember the incident myself, but I'd heard it before from multiple family members.)

When I was 2 years old, I used to go around singing all the time. One day, my grandma asked me why I sang all the time. I replied, "I have music in my body!"

(Yes, I was talking in complete sentences and singing at 2 years old.) That story seems to be a perfect way to start this blog. There's something in me — in all artists — that fuels this unexplained need to create, to play, to explore, to imagine. My 2-year-old self understood it, perhaps better than my adult self does. Art is a part of me, and I should embrace it and feed my passion.