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)