Sunday, January 31, 2016

I'm gonna get there at any price...




A working actor is someone who is actively pursuing a career in Theatre, Film and or Television. Quite simply a working actor is one who is auditioning. Too often being a working actor is confused with being an employed actor. While it's true that both have a job to do, one has a contract to perform, the other is interviewing to perform. The only job an actor is guaranteed is that of auditioning.

When you’re young (either in body or experience) auditioning takes little more than showing up and having appropriate material, and sometimes not even that. But as you become more successful, the audition landscape starts to change. No longer is it enough to just be there and strut your stuff. It soon becomes apparent that show business is a Business first and foremost. And like any business there are things one has to do to get ahead. In the Performing Arts those things include classes, lessons and seminars.

Over the years I have taken hundreds upon hundreds of them. It’s quite possible that the numbers could easily go into the thousands.  The vast majority I’ve had to pay for, some with money and some with part of my soul being ripped to shreds. It’s a crap shoot. But in the end everything you learn in class is right and all classes contain information that can make an actor a star.

Some of what is given out is practical everyday common sense knowledge.

Years ago I attended an introductory seminar with a prominent West Coast voice teacher, an “instructor to the stars”. I was looking for someone to help me break into my higher register. At the time hitting an F was as far as I could stretch my voice. If the planets were aligned I could hit a G, but the planets don’t align for eight shows a week so that wasn’t really usable.

The seminar was structured like most are. There was an introduction where we learned about the teacher and his technique. That was followed by a question and answer period, then a practicum. As usual, in the Q & A someone asked a question that didn't really need to be answered aloud:

Woman: Professor, I love cheese but it gives me phlegm after I eat it and then I have trouble singing. What should I do?

Professor: If you want to be a singer don’t eat cheese. Decide which is more important to you: singing or cheese. And go from there.

The challenge in taking classes is that while all the information is right, it may not necessarily be right for every actor and not every actor will become a star. How an actor determines which information he or she can use to further his or her career is simple: Trial and error.

An actor has to be aware of what their instrument needs to perform at its peak. In classes and seminars you take in information. Afterwards you determine if it applies to you. Try it out. See how it feels, if it makes sense. After a couple tries, if it doesn’t work for you let it go. If it does work you’ve gotten twice your money’s worth out of the class.

If you’re lucky the advice comes for free from someone who’s been taking classes on the regular. Someone like me and my blog. The really fortunate performers who are teeming with potential are taken aside at auditions by the people behind the tables and are given some career changing information.

I was casting a show a couple years ago when a guy came in. He was a nice looking guy with a pleasant personality. But he was young, as in inexperienced. He was just graduating from university. The guy had a nice enough voice but something wasn’t connecting. I wasn’t sure if it was the material or what. He was singing “All Through the Night” from Anything Goes. So I did what I do with most actors who I see potential in. I tried to make it materialize.

We chatted a bit. I made a couple of adjustments. His audition was moderately better but it just wasn’t getting to where I knew it could be. The guy was uber talented I was sure of it. But for some reason it wasn’t coming across. Finally I told him something I had heard and seen in classes but had never bothered to put into practice myself. I told him to just stand there and sing. Don’t move, don’t gesture, don’t do anything. Look straight ahead and sing like you mean it.

When he was done everyone in the room was silent for a moment. There it was. The connection, the gorgeous voice and amazing presence. That talent I knew was in there came bursting through. I advised him that should he sing this song ever again he should do what he just did.

I auditioned for a production of 42nd Street. I was always an okay tapper. The choreographer for the show decided to have each person dance individually while everyone watched and listened. It was the most terrifying thing I had done to date. And it showed. Naturally I got cut. But afterwards the choreographer pulled me aside. He told me that I was the right type for the show and that I should take more lessons.

If someone takes the time to pass on information to you, it bears investigation.

When an actor starts aging, chronologically or experientially he or she can begin to loose malleability, the elasticity to make changes and take adjustments.  I believe along with contentment, this causes the metaphorical death of a performer. That’s what classes and seminars and lessons are for: to breathe new life into a career. And it works, provided the actor attempts to apply what was taught and heed the advice given.

These days all too often actors use classes for one thing, to network. Don’t get me wrong, networking is very important. At one time in show Business it used to be who you knew that could get you ahead, give you an advantage over the competition. These days it’s who knows you that will aid in your career.

Who has worked with you?

Who wants to work with you?

Which casting directors, agents, directors, choreographers know you by name only?

The way that stuff happens is if you’re in front of them day after day after day. Unfortunately not every person behind a table has auditions every day. And even if they do, it’s the truly blessed actor who can go to every single one. And by blessed I mean independently wealthy. For those of us who aren’t, we rely not only on classes and free seminars, but on the “pay to play” scenario.

“Pay to play” is where a performer goes to a seminar with someone who is regularly behind the table to learn what that person likes and doesn’t like. It’s a chance to meet casting directors and agents and learn how he or she operates. That’s the “play”. The “pay” part is literally what the word means. You buy a seat in the seminar, which at times attendance can be capped at ten people.

There are some unscrupulous behind the table regulars who have no intention of getting to know new actors. They give no valuable information to the actor attending their seminars. Those people are there simply to take your hard earned money. But fear not. Even these classes have their value. What better time to try out a new monologue or song than a place where the stakes are incredibly low, the people behind the table aren’t looking for anyone and don't care, and you expect nothing in return from them?

Fortunately at the 42nd Street audition the choreographer was looking for people. However my chances being cast in this production were zero. But the potential to be cast was there and the choreographer let me know it. He didn’t have to. In fact in doing so it cost him valuable time away from the audition and finding a cast for his show. The advice he gave to take more tap classes cost me nothing. So I decided to investigate. I mean I was already doing my job being a working actor by attending auditions. Anything else was a cherry on top of the sundae.

I began studying tap with the teacher the choreographer recommended and got pretty good. Later I auditioned and was hired to do tap shows at a two prestigious theatres with a roster of known talent. At one point in one of the rehearsals we had to tap individually to make sure we were getting the sounds correct. Taping by myself was no longer a problem. I nailed it. So much so that the other dancers commented on how clean, clear and precise my sounds were.

I don’t have a problem with eating cheese before singing. So the direct information the west coast voice Professor gave wasn’t really for me. However, with that information in the back of my mind, I realized that I did have a problem singing after eating certain other foods. So now I just don’t eat those foods when I need to sing.

I decided to study with the cheese professor, even after he humiliated my colleague Louise in front of the entire seminar. His methods, while unconventional, did me no physical harm and they worked. He helped me get a consistent G and a semi-consistent A flat. Almost two whole notes were added to my range because of taking a free seminar and then paying to study with the teacher.

Those lessons helped me book my first show in Germany, Miss Saigon. The lowest high note for men in that score is a G. If you don't have a solid G you ain't doing the show! I may have paid for the voice lessons but the financial return on the investment was gigantic. Not to mention the opportunity to live and work abroad for five years.

I followed through and came out the better for it.

Not only did I offer advice to that talented young guy singing “All Through the Night”, I actually hired him. He was someone with whom I could work and who would work to make the show great. Unfortunately the rehearsal schedule conflicted with school so he couldn’t take the job. But more important than getting the job, he got information that could potentially change the trajectory of his career, should he choose to use it.

Recently I had an audition for a Broadway show. It was the first one back after the holidays. For me that first one is always the hardest one to do. I’ve had several weeks off from working, either my day job or a performing contract. I’ve been eating and drinking and enjoying the festivities. When it’s time to rejoin the throngs of working actors it gets to be a little intimidating. So I did what I know to do, what I’ve been taught to do: homework.

I did all my prep work. Gave myself voice lessons. Worked on lyrics. Worked on acting. I reintroduced myself to my audition book of music. I re-tooled my resume and was ready to go.

When I looked at the casting notice again, I saw that the casting director wasn’t the one I expected. So I had to rethink my entire audition.

You see, based on seminars and classes and lessons, I know what some casting directors are looking for. I keep a list. I call it “Casting Directors casting directives”. In it I write what I know certain people behind the table are looking for in terms of style, or dress or audition material or whatever.

So I altered my preparation. I had to embrace something I watched others do and something I had taught people to do but never really applied to myself. I wasn’t aware of it but in this respect I was aging, experientially. I wasn’t malleable. I wasn’t practicing something I was preaching. But I changed that.

I confidently walked into the audition room. I gave the music to the accompanist. I explained what I needed then walked to the center of the room. Other than breathing and physically making sounds, that was the last time I moved. I stood there, still. No gestures, no side looks, no weight shifts, nothing.

It was just me and the music. 

It was by far the most amazing audition I have ever had. The notes were easy and clear. The lyrics came as if they were being thought up in the moment and they were all correct. The intensity and meaning were both succinct and poignant. I walked out of the room and singers waiting in line to go in commented on how wonderful what they heard was. Even the monitor told me how good she thought my audition was. It was the same thing that happened with the guy who sang "All Through the Night" for me years ago.

Whether I get a call back or a contract remains in question. That’s based completely upon subjective opinion. It’s an aspect of the Business I cannot control, nor can you. What you can control however is showing up and giving the people behind the table a viable casting option.

As working actors we may have individual goals, but we all have to find a way to make those personal goals a reality. We need to find a way to reach our own personal performing Nirvana.

The one key to getting what you professionally desire, no matter if you want to join the ranks of EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony) winners or just want to be in the chorus of your community’s summer musical, is knowledge; knowledge from classes, seminars, lessons and yes, even auditions.

Find it. 

Apply it. 

Then you’ll have the tools to

“...build a stair way to paradise...”