Outgrowing Community Theatre?

Well, I'm cranky today ... for a number of reasons. And I'm not going to get into the major reasons. This is my theatre blog, though, so I will talk about my theatre-related crankiness. (Shocking that the thing I love so much can make me cranky!)

I auditioned yesterday for 1776. Only two women's roles in the whole show. It's far away, but I think it would be a relatively fun show to do. And Adam and Jeff auditioned, so I could possibly do a show with my husband and a friend, which would be nice. I think I did a good job, and I'm not desperate to be cast in this show — so on the whole, I feel pretty comfortable. But ... I feel discontent. Am I becoming complacent? Am I getting into that rut I've feared of only auditioning for community theatre shows and not reaching beyond? I worry that I'm being egotistical or deluded when I think "I am so much better than this! I deserve more than just hoping to be cast in community theatre!" But I don't think I am either cocky or insane. I think I've kind of outgrown standard community theatre.

And it's not because of talent. There are a lot of very talented people in community theatre (and some moderately and some not-so talented people).

It's because of how seriously I take it. Here's the current situation that has been happening recently. The cast has a rehearsal to learn the dance. They get it down pretty well. Then a week or so later, we do that same number. They've all forgotten the dance. So the choreographer has to teach it again. They get it down. Then at the next rehearsal, the dance is forgotten again. The choreographer teaches the steps yet again. Meanwhile, I stand there patiently and politely (because I'm not in this dance, though I'm onstage singing).

Last night, after learning the same dance for the third or fourth time, we moved on to a dance (that I am in) that we had done only once before. Some of us were practicing the dance while we were on break, and they said, "Ooh, Kristin's got it!" I said, "Well, I practiced it." They looked at me as though I'd grown an extra head. Seriously, I don't have some kind of magical talent unavailable to the rest of the cast. I go through my dance steps a couple times a week. Simple. It doesn't take that long. So I work on my stuff, and then find myself among people who haven't thought about the dance since the last rehearsal and then wonder why they've forgotten it. At 9:27 the choreographer said, "Let's go through this a couple more times." A cast member said, "It's 9:30. Rehearsal is over." If you're so desperate to leave, why are you there?

I love theatre so much. I care about doing as good a job as I can. So I put work into learning my lines and my dancing and my music and being professional and attentive during rehearsal. I long to be with other people who take it as seriously as I do and who care as much as I do.

The Fairest Rejection

Several months ago, I had responded to a call for resumes/headshots for a summer production of Man of La Mancha (for a local professional theatre company that occasionally hires Equity actors in addition to non-Equity actors). My voice teacher said, "Oh, they'll definitely at least see you (for an audition)." But I never got called in for an audition.

Yesterday, I decided to see who will be playing Aldonza. It's Emily Skinner. I guess if you have a Tony nominee, you don't need to see local actresses for the role! Ha!

Losing Weight

Today I had yet another person say to me, "Have you lost weight? You look so skinny!" I've heard that so many times that I think it must be true.

That makes me feel good for two reasons: One, I've lost weight. Yay! Two, I maintain a very healthy attitude about my body/weight. If I were obsessive about dieting or my weight, when people asked me that question, I'd say "Yes" — and probably know exactly how much weight I had actually lost. Instead, I don't even own a scale. I think I've been eating healthier in general ... but I still eat ice cream regularly. And I've been exercising more — though not for the sake of exercise. I've been stretching, doing sit-ups and push-ups, and taking dance class, plus rehearsals for Annie. That keeps me pretty active.

And that's exactly how I like it! Losing weight through doing things I love (dancing, etc.) and not working at it! Because, honestly, being a few pounds overweight, I'd rather be happy eating things I love and not working out than obsessing over trying to obtain an impossible body image.

What Don't I Know?

Last night I was talking to Chris Bohjalian. He was telling me about his upcoming books, and I said to him, "I can't imagine how much research you do! Do you do a lot of research?" He said, "I do a ton of research."

And then he said, "I never get writer's block. If I don't know what to write, it's just a sign that I don't know enough about what I'm doing. So I go talk to somebody who knows more than I do about a topic." [emphasis mine]

How easily that idea can be taken from writing and applied to goals at large! If I get stuck, maybe it's a sign that I don't know enough about what I'm doing or where I'm trying to go.

Letting go of bitterness

Last night I went to see Godspell, which, of course, I had auditioned for and not been cast in. One of my major goals recently has been to let go of bitterness and resentment. And so I was only very mildly annoyed while watching the show.

How easy it is to let go of bitterness has something to do with desire and desperation. Godspell wasn't the only possibility I had for a show, and, in fact, I got the rejection call as I was driving home from an excellent audition for Annie (which I did get cast in). Knowing that I'm happily cast in a show makes it much easier. Also, Godspell was in no way a dream show for me. Actually, I don't like the show that much. I think auditioning for it was as much a desire for validation as it was for wanting to perform in the show.

And that's something significant I've discovered about bitterness and resentment. How closely it is linked to insecurity! Feeling confident gives me the ability to say "It's their loss" — in a way that's neither cocky nor deluded. Feeling confident in my talent makes me better able to let go of bitterness and resentment because I see how getting cast (or not) in a community theatre production has nothing to do with who I am or how good I am. I am about more than community theatre casting. I am destined for bigger and more interesting things than any individual show.