...I'll boost you up yours!

In the golden age of movies a studio executive would take someone right off the street and make him or her a star. The “actor” merely had to sign on the dotted line. This meant working exclusively with that studio.

The actor’s entire world would change. Every aspect of his or her life from that point forward was laid out by the studio. The starlet to be would have to enroll in all manner of classes from elocution, to acting, to singing and dancing (back then everyone sang and danced). The starlet’s wardrobe was given to him or her and haircuts dictated. At times the restructuring of the face or body was demanded. Even the people this actor associated with, dated, and married was arranged.

The studio took care of its investment by letting the actor star in 6 or 7 movies. All the actor had to do was to go to school to learn all the studio’s rules and then make a movie. The actors who were exceptionally compliant and or box office gold were loaned out to other studios. Actors who didn’t learn or follow the rules were punished. They were relegated to featured roles, constant background work or even no work at all. In essence the studio played the part of the parent. They told the actor what to do, when and how to do it, and with whom to do it.

Everyone did it this way because that was the way it was done. Unfortunately the abuse and lack of inner personal truth spelled the demise figuratively or literally for more than a few professionals.

I was having a discussion with Lisa, a good friend of mine who’s a Drama Desk Award nominated actress. We were talking about actors and life in the theatre. We concluded that actors can be akin to toddlers.

Toddlers are small people. They’re tiny personalities who aren’t quite autonomous. They have the capabilities of speech, movement and on some level cognitive reasoning. Their parents teach them everything: what to do, how to speak, where to go and how to get there, how to dress, and how to behave. If you look at the performing arts, basically little has changed since the golden age of movies. Instead of studios, theatre actors have playwrights, composers, directors, choreographers, musical directors, set designers and costumers as collective parents.

Think about it...

 

The playwright dictates an actor’s words. In the world of the play, he teaches an actor how to speak.

 

The choreographer instructs an actor on how he’ll move inside the newly created world, teaching the actor how to walk.

 

A composer gives license to the actor to emotionally express himself through music. The musical director will restrain an actor from going beyond the confines of what that music will allow...they teach acceptable societal norms.

 

Set designers tell the actor where to live. He gives the actor what’s needed for protection from the elements, or not, as the playwright has dictated.

 

Costumers provide the actor a wardrobe. They help define who the character is by dressing the actor appropriately.

 

And the director maps out the actor’s objectives on stage. He gives the actors the boundaries of how to go about getting what the character wants and how he’ll interact with other characters while living in the on stage world.

 

Like toddlers who want to explore the world around them, actors want to explore the world of the play and auditions. They want to develop relationships and define this new world for themselves. When toddlers are getting ready to do a new activity, they look to their parents for permission. The expression on their parents’ faces speaks volumes as to what would happen if the child did the activity in question. An “oh how cute look” meant carte blanche to proceed. If the “death stare” was thrown the child knew proceeding would have some negative reactions. It’s then that the child decides if the task at hand is worth the risk.

Many actors, like toddlers, seek permission from the people behind the table to take a risk and immerse themselves in the world of the show. How? By asking the perennial question: What are they looking for?

Of course they’re looking for talent. But what else?

Well...

They’re looking for a name.

 

They’re looking for credits.

 

They’re looking for a voice type.

 

They’re looking for a body type.

 

They’re looking for a hair or skin color.

 

They’re looking for someone who speaks the same theatrical language as they do. (More on this in another blog).

 

They’re looking for pleasant personalities.

 

They’re looking for compatibility, both between the actor and themselves and the other potential actors.

 

They’re looking for someone who fits their vision of the play.

 

...or just someone who fits the costume.

 

An actor who hits all the important points for the production team will get hired.

What happens to those who miss the major points? The ones who don’t have celebrity? Or credits? Or the body type de jour? They try to figure out any of the other one thousand and one things that may be on the list of criteria. Then they try to give it to the people behind the table. And guess what happens...

Nothing.

You can change different aspects of yourself, like the color of your hair, for a role. Do it for every audition you attend and soon you won’t have any hair at all. You can choose to wear different outfits to auditions but that doesn’t change your actual clothing size. As for celebrity, either you got it or you aint. There is no in-between. And so on. The more an actor tries to become “what they’re looking for” the more likely he or she won’t be. From the vantage point of behind the table, no matter what an actor “puts on”, their inner truth can be seen for miles.

There is one thing the people behind the table are always looking for though. It’s one of the things they desire most of all. It’s also something they don’t often get: They want you. They want that inner truth. The people behind the table want you in the right here and the right now as you are. They want you to be present. Like vampires they crave a fully realized living breathing adult human being, one who is capable of making informed decisions with a willingness to make wonderful mistakes.

They don’t want anything less. And they certainly don’t want you trying to give them what it is you think they want.

Preparation for this type of presence starts at least a block away from the audition site.

Clear your head of everything that is happening in your life: the commute, the argument you had with your boyfriend about cereal, the fact that the dry cleaners lost your favorite pair of pants. Everything. That stuff only matters if you happen to be a method actor and are performing a piece where the character in question has gone through those very same things. Outside of that LET IT ALL GO. It serves you no purpose but distraction. It takes you out of being present in the audition room.

Most importantly clear any thoughts of what you think the people behind the table are looking for.

Chances are the audition is taking place in one of the many rehearsal studios around the city. As you entire the audition building, it’s time for full on game face. Anyone you come in contact with could very well be one of the people behind the table at the audition. Or they could be behind another table next month or next year.

You walk into an elevator to get to an audition space and notice a man wearing a puce green sweater. Going up you talk to a friend about not wanting to be there and how this audition is a waste of your time because no one who matters will be behind the table, etc etc etc. You know what I’m talking about. You’ve done it. Hell I’ve done it.

At the audition your name is finally called. You walk into the room and behind the table is a man in a puce green sweater. It’s the same man from the elevator! Unless you’re Audra McDonald toting your five Tony awards around auditioning for the lead in the newest Broadway musical, you are not getting hired. No matter how brilliant your audition is, that job is going to someone else. We are all expendable and there is always someone else who fits the costume. There is always someone who didn’t bad talk the audition, or the accompanist, or the reader or the people behind the table. There is always someone who wants to be there. Make sure it’s you.

The best rule of thumb is to smile, be polite and friendly to everyone, even the doorman and the monitors of the audition. There are several regional theatres and theatre companies that use their own monitors. These monitors are on the lookout for the back stage bad seed. They report holding room shenanigans to the people behind the table. An actor throwing attitude in the waiting room isn’t getting hired, unless his or her name is going above the show title.

This isn’t to say leave your personality a block away out on the street. Show the people behind the table, the monitors and everyone in the building the part of your personality your grandma likes. Leave the histrionics for the monologue and the aria.

Everyone has his or her own ritual for preparation while waiting on line to go into the audition room. The only thing to note is that one man’s prep could be another man’s disturbance. Be respectful. The new audition rooms at Actors Equity take this into account. There are now safety zones, hallways for the one actor who is on deck (next in line to audition).

The next crucial moment is when you’re about to walk into the actual audition room.

Let the door completely close before you enter. This is your time. No matter how rushed the person is before you, no matter how far behind the audition is, no matter how late you are for your catering job, breathe. Finish doing whatever you need to do in order to get your head in the right frame of mind to do your best work. Smile. Put your hand on the knob, turn and make an entrance...

Upon entering, try to make eye contact with the people behind the table. That is to say look at the people as you walk in. Chances are they will attempt to acknowledge you. Great. If they don’t, keep it moving. There are very few times you should shake hands with the people in the room. If they offer first then it’s a must. If you have a working relationship with them, then you’ll know whether to extend a hand or not. I’ve entered audition rooms and gotten hugged...not something you should ever initiate or expect. But it did give me the warm fuzzies.

For a straight play stand and pleasantly wait for their full attention. At this point you have to be able to join the people behind the table on how they’re running their audition. Perhaps they’ll ask you what piece you’re doing. Perhaps they’ll wait for you to start. Or even still, if sides are involved, they may introduce you to the reader, or ask if there are any questions about the piece you’ll be reading from. Roll with it until it’s time to perform.

For a musical go directly to the piano. Say hello to the pianist, but don’t force the issue of pleasantries. Chances are he or she is fried from sight reading all day. Let them know what you’re singing and set the tempo. Return to the center of the room. Again at this point join in on how the people behind the table are running things. They may ask you what you’re singing. They may not. Just be prepared.

In both instances, all of this is done calmly, with focus and energy.

Present your finished product.

Then breathe. Give the people behind the table a moment to absorb what was just done. More importantly give them a moment to ask you to do something else, make adjustments or to call you back. At this point be prepared to have a conversation. Perhaps something on your resume’s caught their eye, like a colleague’s name. Perhaps they want more information. Or perhaps they want to see if you're a fully realized living breathing adult human being capable of conversation. When they’ve made their decision about whether to purchase your product they’ll let you know, most often with a “Thanks for coming in today”.

Return their thanks with thanks and a smile. Gather your things and calmly but energetically exit the room. Hold on to that smile and energy, but don’t force it. Outside gather all of your things and exit the space entirely. Avoid commenting on how you think you did and or asking others how they did. These opinions just don’t matter. The only thing that does matter in the end is whether the people behind the table will be offering you a job either for this show or another down the line. Something you have no control over or say in.

If the people behind the table want to work with you, that’s great. You’ve done your job in its entirety. You’ve showcased your product. If they don’t like you, or what you do, screw ‘em. You’ve done your job in its entirety. You’ve showcased your product. Either way let it go. Remember it’s all subjective based on the people behind the table’s opinions and life experiences. An actor cannot compensate or adjust for that anymore than he or she can know all the qualities needed to land the job.

The people behind the table don’t want you to ask permission. They don’t want to be asked (literally or figuratively) “what are you looking for”, in terms of character, style, or presentation or any of it. They don’t want to hold your hand through the process. They want you to come in and do your best. They want you to live and breathe in the moment. The people behind the table want you to have already made an informed decision, taken a position on the material at hand, and present it to them as such. They want to see what choices you make, how the material comes across through your interpretation, how you infuse it with your personality. As an actor seeking work that’s all you can do. Knowing and accepting this is the difference between being a toddler asking “mother may I” and being an adult offering your services in collaboration on a project.

The world of the play is created. The toddlers are introduced into the microcosm and taught their role in that world. The hope is that one day (opening night) the children (the actors) will grow up and live on their own in that world (the play/musical) using all the lessons (rehearsals) they’ve been taught by their parents (the creative team).

In Show Business there are levels of maturity. We as performers progress from adult to toddler to adult again with each and every project...or we get locked into one phase of the process stunting our work potential. It’s a constant cycle of growing up.

Growing up means not asking permission to take a risk. Growing up means not being concerned with “what are they looking for”. Growing up means living and breathing and existing as a fully realized human being flaws and all. But most importantly growing up means realizing that no matter where you are on your journey of growth, whether you’re a toddler, adult or a ‘tween, you will always be someone’s child. There will always be someone with a lesson for you to learn and a world for you to explore.

Growing up as a professional means being true to youself and having that self show up at auditions positive, prepared and ready for the possibility of work. That’s all the people behind the table really want. So give it to them. That's how you'll get work. After all...

...when you’re good to mama, mama’s good to you.