Every night, at the same time, the entire family sat down
for dinner. Every night when the street lights came on I was to be on our
property. Every night I had the same bedtime. Although it was always moved up
an hour for the summer, it was hard to go to sleep when it was still daylight
out.
Then there were what I call the social graces: “No ma’am”
“yes sir” “excuse me” “I’m sorry” “pardon me” “children should be seen and not
heard”, “speak when spoken to” and the like. In fact whenever the adults we
having a conversation about adult things, be it finances or an off-coloured
joke, the children were excused from the room.
My parents were so locked into tradition and decorum that
most of my life we had a black rotary dial telephone and a whole book of
etiquette for speaking on the phone.
When I joined the drama club in high school our structured
suburban life was sent into chaos. I couldn’t eat dinners with the family. I
had rehearsals. My homework was finished at the last minute right before I went
to bed. I had stage crew. I couldn’t even abide by my bedtime which was 10pm. We
did full length traditional musicals. The curtain was at 8 o’clock. I would’ve
had to be in bed before the show hit the “11 o’clock number”.
In short all the rules and regulations were thrown out the
window. My mother had pushed me to get extracurricular activities to beef up my
applications for college. Now she was beside herself. She never expected I’d
join the Drama Club and she certainly didn’t expect a huge time commitment
complete with such a wanton disregard for civility. How would it look if the
president of the PTA didn’t have a normally structured life?
Since joining something was her idea in the first place, my
mom acquiesced about a lot of family traditions. She stood her ground firmly on
a few things however.
Sunday dinners were the last bastion of family time. Missing
them was non- negotiable.
I was an honor roll student with a 90 average (my school used
numbers. it’s a more accurate way of grading). My grades had to stay where they
were.
One time on a report card I brought home all 90s except for
2 classes. I earned a 99 in Spanish; only because the teacher said in good
conscious he couldn’t award a 100, and an 87 in History. When my mother saw the
87 I had to fight to stay in the Drama Club. Part of that deal was I had to
bring home every book from every class whether there was homework or not. To this
day I have no idea what that did other than satisfy her “tiger mother”
instinct.
When I became ensconced in theatre, my mother saw how the
drama club kids behaved. She thought it was a bit unruly. So she insisted on me
keeping my manners completely intact. All the social grace responses had to
stay in my vocabulary and in my body. There was no getting around this. My
mother was well known. I couldn’t go anywhere without someone she knew
reporting back to her. She took a sense of pride in hearing “I saw your son
today. What a polite young man”.
I “kept up appearances” right through college and my move to
New York City. A lot of people in the city seem to be wrapped up in themselves
without regard to the others around them. Once I got here all my civility, my manners,
my social grace slowly slipped away. Because of this new “hostile” environment
I never noticed it.
I went back upstate to visit my family often. There wasn’t a
Christmas or Thanksgiving or family event I missed spending with them, unless I
was doing a show. It was expected.
During one such visit with my parents, someone came to the
door. I looked out the front picture
window to see who it was. I didn’t recognize the person. I went to the door and
answered it with a typically curt New York City “Yeah?”
“Is your mother at home?” the stranger said.
“Hang on” was my reply, equally as curt and rough as my
first question. I closed and locked the door and went to get my mother. At this
point my dad came down and asked who rang the bell. I told him it was someone
for mom.
My dad looked wondering where the person was. "Who?" I told him
the guy was waiting outside.
“I don’t know who he is...” I said indignantly.
“You may do that in New York City, but here we invited
people into our homes if they come calling.”
I thought ’come calling’...where the hell do you think we
are Dad, 1890s England? Did you ever hear of the phrase “stranger danger”?
And then it dawned on me...
Surviving in New York had eroded the pleasantries my parents
had instilled in me growing up. At that moment I realized how important
politeness and etiquette are. It also dawned on me how, based on where you live,
these social graces can alter. Certainly in NYC you don’t let a stranger into
your home. In the genteel suburbs, it was a different story.
Today, I realize how the social graces can help or hinder a
career.
Right now I’m in the middle of casting and directing a show
for an up and coming Theatre Company. It’s growing exponentially. We posted an advertisement on the various web
sites to promote the auditions and set up appointments. The posting was done a
month in advance. A lot can change in a month, especially for an actor.
Before the actual appointments were given, an email was sent
out to potential candidates asking if they were still available and interested
in the project. More than half never responded.
Let me be perfectly clear here:
One actor had submitted himself for the last four projects
that I’ve worked on. All four times he was given an appointment. Three of those
times he never confirmed or cancelled or even bothered to show up. This fourth
time he actually did showed up, without confirming. Luckily there was a proper cancellation
and we could fit him in.
Mr. “Fourth time’s a charm” has made a reputation for
himself. The likelihood of this actor getting an appointment again is
practically nil. His reputation is not only with this particular theatre
company. It’s also with the people involved in the individual projects. Not a
good place to be with 2 directors, 2 choreographers and 2 casting directors.
Think of how many potential projects those combined 6 people could become involved
in!
It’s important to answer to all professional inquiries. Thanks
to the electronic age responding to an offer for an audition takes no more
effort than hitting reply. A total of 15 seconds is used. If you don’t have 15
seconds to spare for your career, either hire someone to do it for you or,
well, you know the other option.
In terms of replying keep it simple:
“Confirming my 11:30am audition slot on Tuesday May 28.”
“Unfortunately I’m not available.”
If you don’t recognize the person’s name, or the name of the
show or the theatre company, then replying is even more important. One can
never tell where a person, a company and or a show is headed. Any “casting
associate” could become the next Bernie Telsey. Any non-paying Fringe show
could potentially be the next Broadway blockbuster. Getting in at the beginning
of something is far easier than in the middle or end.
In the beginning a talented and gracious performer has the
potential to sway how a role is to be cast. After the show’s up and running, outside
of being a “star draw”, casting is pretty much set in stone. At the larger
auditions, say for a new show coming to Broadway, that’s why you hear actors
saying “it’s already been cast”. The likelihood is that it has been cast...from people who started with it at the beginning
with a table read, a showcase or a regional production.
Just try walking off the street and getting a private
audition for Kinky Boots,with Bernie Telsey himself. Years ago both would have been possible.
A dancer submitted for a replacement in a project I was
casting. He had a blossoming resume, a great look and he seemed to be a good
fit for the show. He was given an appointment. At the same time, he submitted
for a project I was directing. Again he fit the bill for what we were looking
for. He was given another appointment. This time it was for my show.
At the replacement call he did quite well. He wasn’t quite
what the choreographer and director were looking for however. Afterward I
approached him and introduced myself. I said that I would be seeing him at the
audition for my show in a few days. He replied that he had sent email regrets.
He had a callback at the same time and asked for a later appointment.
I checked the casting email folder when I got home. He had
indeed sent a very polite, simple email. I replied saying that since I basically
had already seen him audition, he could just come directly to the callbacks.
The call backs were scheduled for 10am a couple days later.
At 9:40am on the day of the callbacks an email came from the dancer. He wrote
that he had hurt his ankle in the morning during a class. He needed to go to
the doctor and have it checked out. He wasn’t going to make it to the callback.
I thought what bad luck.
...keep it honest:
"I'd love to be a part of your production."
“I’ve accepted another offer.”
...or keep it vague.
You will be found out. The theatre world is very small. Everyone knows everyone, or they know someone who does.
A couple days after the hurt ankle incident, a director friend of mine posted on Facebook. He was excited he to be working on a brand new musical. He went on to name his cast. Et viola, the dancer’s name was included in the list.
It’s quite possible that everything was on the up and up
with this dancer. Looking at the time line of events causes me to be a bit
skeptical about the dancer’s integrity though. In the future this entire incident will be long forgotten. In the future the dancer may audition for me again.
In the future it may come down to hiring him or someone else. In the future
there may be feeling, a little voice somewhere in the back of my mind that
may, for some unknown reason say “Hire the other dancer”.
There was a girl at the first callbacks that, in the
creative team’s minds, had already landed the gig. During her original
appointment I noticed she and I had a teacher in common. He’s a highly
respected teacher at a major performing university. We chatted about it for a
bit and then moved on. Everyone in the
show speaks, even the chorus. We needed to read people and do some part singing
for final callbacks. Everyone we wanted to see was contacted, including this girl.
She never contacted us in anyway and she never showed up.
We liked this girl so much that we decided to hire her
anyway. A call was made. A message was left. Another call was made. Another
message was left. A third and final call was made along with a third and final
message. This girl simply never responded.
Not responding is not a response.
Our business is communication. We embody the ideas of an author and present them nightly to a mass of people interesting in hearing and seeing what those ideas are. If an actor does not communicate to his or her potential employers, can he or she be trusted to do so to an audience?
The teacher the girl and I have in common is one of the toughest, most
demanding men I have ever worked for. During one particularly brutal day he
brought me close to tears. I wound up uncontrollably sobbing in the shower
after rehearsal had finished. I’m not a fan of his methods, but his results are
consistently amazing. He would be incensed to know his name was on a resume of
someone so irresponsible.
Everything you do or don’t do is a reflection on every
person listed on your resume. You communicate the level of education and the value of your teachers input everytime you step into the world of show business. Out of shear respect for those who have brought
you to where you are today, you as an actor need to respond.
...keep your intentions clear:
“I would like to have an audition appointment.”
“After reading over the material, I believe the subject
matter is not suitable for me.”
A character woman was hired to do the show I’m directing
right now. She was great at the audition and callbacks. She has a great personality
and really wonderful energy. When I called to offer her the job I noticed there
was a very slight almost imperceptible hesitation on her part in accepting the
role. I thought nothing of it. Perhaps I was just shell-shocked after dealing
with other people.
A few days later, an email was sent out asking for people’s
rehearsal conflicts. This is a non-paying gig so scheduling around paying work
is important to keep the actors warm and fed and happy. The character woman
never responded to the request.
At their auditions the actors were asked to list what their
conflicts were on a questionnaire. These conflicts could include anything from
work obligations to vacations to weddings to other shows, you name it. I went
back to the character woman’s sheet. I took in to consideration her listed
conflicts. I scheduled rehearsals.
I sent a notice to the cast about the first rehearsal. The
character woman finally responded. She opened with “I knew I would get my
conflicts to you too late...” Apparently she had been asked by a friend to star
in a reading of a new piece. This was a paying gig. Rehearsals would start the
day before my rehearsals, which was now in two days. The entire other
production would end in 3 weeks.
The character woman asked if she could be released from
rehearsals for those three weeks. I said I could agree to that provided she
attends a single, one hour music rehearsal that had already been scheduled.
...keep it timely
Respond to all messages within 24 hours or within 5 minutes
if you’re dealing with extra work in film and TV. Otherwise there is a great
possibility of you losing out to another actor. The other possibility is the
people behind the table can become less than accommodating.
Her response came a bit quicker this time. She couldn’t miss
the other rehearsal since the whole process was so quick.
...keep it friendly:
"Looking forward to it”
"Until next time”
... “Best of luck”.
Most importantly in all of your responses keep it polite:
...a “please” where
applicable
and
...a “Thank you” for everything.
With every new communication innovation comes uncharted
territory. For us it’s the internet and being available twenty four hours a day seven days a week. With
this uncharted territory a whole new set of pleasantries develops...or should
develop. They’re then passed down from generation to generation. I believe my
parents passed down one of the last widely accepted set of etiquette rules when
dealing with communication.
My family’s black rotary dial telephone was the primary
means of communicating with the outside world. It had to be answered promptly,
within two rings. The person answering had to smile before speaking. The
beginning of every conversation was scripted. If you happened to be listening in,
it sounded something like this:
“Hello. The Edwards’ residence, how may I help you?...May I ask who’s
calling?...One moment please...” or...“I’m sorry he/she isn’t available
right now.”
Until I joined the Drama Club my entire childhood was
completely scripted this way. Growing up I wanted nothing more than to have the
freedom all my friends, real or imposed, had. I couldn’t wait to get out from
under the watchful eyes of my parents. I needed to escape the trite suburban
prison to which I had been condemned
I’m an adult now, or so they say. I make my own rules and
deal with things on my own terms. Every day I miss my parents. And every day I
learn that the things they were trying to instill in me were, and are, the
right things. They transcend simple social graces and etiquette. In fact these
things are the actual building blocks for getting ahead in Show Business.
Since we know talent is subjective and beauty is in the eye
of the beholder, there has to be something that sets you apart from the throng
and makes people want to work with you. It’s being friendly. It’s being
courteous. It’s being polite and respectful even within the infinity of cyber
space.
Art imitates Life and Life imitates Art. Growing
up as a musical theatre kid I had a huge imagination. Had I not followed my parents’
rules of conduct, I imagined I would suffer the same fate as a character from a Cole
Porter song...
“...the mob came and got her and dragged her from the jail,
madam. They strung her up on the willows across the way...”
And in my mind, in those final beautifully staged and
costumed moments, with certain death looming, I imagined my parents standing in
the background, insisting I respond to all my pending invitations...
“...Miss Otis regrets she’s unable to lunch today”.
