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!