Baby, fineness is the way to kill...

We interrupt the 3^rd installment of “Equity life versus Non-Equity life” to bring you the following public service announcement:

Summer is over.

Stock seasons have finished. Internships have finished. The time to lie on the beach has finished. Now it's time to get back to work. Since school is starting, auditions are starting, and the hectic pace of life is essentially re-starting (not to mention the fact that we’ve interrupted the conclusion of a multi-part blog) I’ll keep this succinct.

During the hazy, hot and humid days of the season, we, as actors, can get complacent, lazy and or develop bad habits. It’s time to get back to the basics of being a professional actor.

Be early

It doesn’t matter if it’s for a class, an audition or a rehearsal. Arrive early. Give yourself enough time to prepare for the task at hand (change clothes, warm up, study music, etc.). Then, on top of that, give yourself five minutes to sit and do nothing, to just get your head in the game.

Be dressed appropriately

If you’re auditioning you should look your best. Clean and put together. Period.

Dancing needs dance clothes, which includes proper undergarments (sports bra, dance belt, etc.) and the appropriate shoes.

Dressing for rehearsal not only includes clothing and shoes that allows you freedom of movement, but sometimes clothing and shoes that restrict your movement. It depends on the actual piece being rehearsed. If it’s a piece that requires special garments, such as cowboy boots, corsets, hats, long and or tight skirts, or heels for example, you should try to approximate those things as soon as possible in rehearsal. It’ll make the transition to the actual costume smoother and your life easier. And more importantly, it informs the physicality of the character being portrayed.

Be prepared

In addition to the proper clothing, bring the proper equipment with you. That includes a pencil and an eraser, water, a recording device, scripts/librettos/sheet music, headshots, resumes.

Being prepared also means knowing your material prior to arrival. Make sure you’ve read the play/musical prior to starting rehearsals. In the ideal world, you should read it prior to actually auditioning for it.

This next thing should go without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway...if you’re doing a reading of any type, be it public, private, paid or free, read the script BEFORE you get in front of anyone, even the other actors. You'e not fooling anyone. We can all immediately tell the moment mouths are opened who has read the script and who hasn’t.

Review your blocking, especially the exits and entrances. There’s always a chance a costume change may have to happen in the wings.

Go over all the choreography prior to your next call. Chances are there will be limited time for review during the actual rehearsal.

Make sure you are memorized on the date announced for the piece to be memorized.

Be civil

It doesn’t matter what kind of mood you’re in, who you like or dislike, or how your day is going. Be polite to everyone. Say hello. Say good bye. Thank people for their contribution, even if you feel it was subpar. “Please” and “thank you”, and eye contact go a long, long way in helping your career.

Be aware of your limitations

Be honest, not only to yourself but to the people behind the table, about what you can and cannot do. If you can sing a high D sharp great, let them know. But if you can only warm up to a high D sharp and aren’t able to perform it 8 times a week, also let them know. It doesn’t make you less of a performer to reveal your limitations. And yes, you may lose a job or two because of it. But it’s better to lose a job or two now than to do damage to your instrument doing something it wasn’t built to do. That could lead to the loss of the ability to perform all together.

Be well

You need to take care of yourself. This means different things to different people. It also means doing different things for different people. Some common ways to take care of yourself are:

Drink water

Eat healthy

Get a proper amount of sleep

Exercise

Warm up and cool down

Get a hobby outside of performing

Learn a new skill or language

Meditate

Visit parks and nature

Dress for the weather outside not the season it should be

Wear sunscreen

Keep alcohol intake moderate

Avoid recreational drug use

Learn how to say “no” or how to say “yes”

Walk away from stressful situations and people

Seek out mental health professionals to help you deal with life

Find people who like you for you and challenge you to be the best version of you there is

And smile, often and sincerely.

As you can see, making a name for yourself takes work. Being taken seriously as a professional actor takes work.  And sometimes that work has nothing to do with actually cultivating talent or performance. Anyone can call themselves an actor. Anyone. If you’re lucky enough to reach a certain point, everyone in the room who is auditioning for the job has talent and performers. The things listed here are the things that can separate you from that herd, in a good way.

I won’t lie to you. It’s gonna be hard, especially at first. I’ve been trying for a life time it seems, and I still fail at multiple things on these lists, sometimes routinely. But I keep trying. That’s all I can do. That’s all anyone can do. Because being a performer is more than just calling yourself one.

“...If you’re gonna talk that talk that talk baby, better walk that walk that walk.”

The overpowering feeling...

Part 2 of a multi-part post

Picture it. Sicily. 1936. I was a young chorine. I packed my bags and hopped on a steamer to New York City to make my dreams of being in show business a reality.

Speaking of reality, a "chorine" is a female chorus member. The “steamer” was a grey hound bus. It was far from 1936. And making it in show business was a little different than I expected.

I met Amir (...In the rich man's world) while working at a theme park. He was stunning. It didn’t matter what your sexual preference was. Everyone found him to be beautiful. We became great friends. After our contract had ended, we made plans to find an apartment together. I had given up my pied a tier on 96^th street and Central Park West to go do shows. I was subletting from my friend Manuel. Amir was graduating from school.

As luck would have it, both of us kept working. There was never a moment where we were in the city at the same time to look for an apartment. Manuel and Amir became friends. When I got back into town, all of our mutual friends, Manuel and mine, asked where I was living. When I replied “with Manuel” the response was unanimous: “But Manuel and Amir got an apartment together”.

There’s a whole story of betrayal and backstabbing, which I’ll tell you over drinks. This moment is important because it’s when I came to the conclusion that there was no stability in my life, both personally and professionally.

At the time there was a huge difference between union and non-union performers. The difference wasn’t in talent or drive or any of the fundamental things that make a performer a performer. The difference lay in the fact that non-union performers almost always were paid on 1099s. That meant no taxes were taken out for the federal or state governments. No taxes taken out meant no unemployment insurance between jobs. 

Along with no unemployment insurance, non-union performers had no pension, no health insurance and no real guarantee for safety or well-being.

Union members were always paid better than non-union members. A performer had to be in the union to work on Broadway. Besides all of that, I thought the only real chance a performer had of purchasing a home was through the Actor’s Equity Credit Union. In short to be successful, to be on Broadway, to be “stable” with a home and good credit, I learned one had to have an Equity card.

And other than performing, I wanted all of those things. So I put “get Equity card” on my to do list. Included on that list was "find a place to live".

The rumors were true, even though Manuel initially denied them. He and Amir had gotten an apartment in midtown. Amir’s dad co-signed for them since Manuel was teaching and choreographing non-union shows and Amir didn’t have a job. In fact Amir never had a job outside of performing. His family was incredibly wealthy and generous, so Amir was completely set. He was living the dream. He could audition and take classes and network and see Broadway shows and party till his heart was content. Amir didn’t drink or do drugs so his “partying” wasn’t detrimental to his health or career.

My situation was quite the opposite, not the drugs and drinking part. I wasn’t dependent on my family for money. I had student loans. I had to work. I also had to find a new place to live.

Pedro, the guy I was subletting from, was supposed to finally come back. Even though Manuel was moving out, there was no way I could live with Pedro. He could barely speak English and he was a huge jerk. Or maybe he wasn’t and I just couldn’t understand him. At any rate, we didn’t get along. When Pedro came back to the apartment during his Easter break from tour, he announced that he was moving out. When he went back out for the next leg of his tour, he’d be leaving the apartment for good.

I was stuck with an apartment I couldn’t afford, in an area I didn’t like or feel one hundred percent safe in. On top of all that, I found a copy of the lease. Manuel had been forging his original roommate’s signature on it since that roommate left: ten years ago.

It was time to get stuff done. So I put my nose to the grind stone...

My bestie Thurston had just finished a cruise ship job. He had become friends with someone in the orchestra. Luckily that person was looking for a roommate. Done deal. I had the first thing checked off the to-do list. On to the next.

I got a job working on the Spirit of New Jersey, a dinner cruiser that sailed around Manhattan. I was hired to be a singing waiter. The performing part was a breeze. The waiter part, not so much. I didn’t have any experience waiting tables so I lied on my resume. It’s a lot harder than it looks. Tip your waiters well.

Great. I had a job and a place to live. Two of the three main things I had to achieve I achieved. The third proved to be a bit more elusive and took a bit more time.

When trying to get your name out there, I had always been told it was best to go to every audition. Cast a wide net to get cast. Now I had an expensive midtown rent of four hundred dollars (it deosn't sound like a lot today but back then working as a receptionist in a huge corportation paid about $8 an hour) I had to be highly selective on which calls I would attend. Auditioning was on an “I really need to go, that part is perfect for me” basis.

I was an EMC (Equity Membership Candidate) now. I was half way to Equity. Being EMC meant that I could audition for Equity shows, if the people behind the tables wanted to see EMCs and if they had time to do so. I thought my long days of sitting outside, in the hall of the Equity lounge, waiting, were over. Now instead of waiting to hear if the people behind the tables would see non-equity, I had to wait to hear if they would see “future members”.

On those audition days, there was no way to work the day job. Instead of being a waiter I was stuck waiting. I got to the hallway early in the morning and sometimes I would sit there, on the "bitter bench", until 430pm or 5pm, depending on how long the audition ran. Sitting. Waiting. Worrying about how to pay rent and not being able to leave, not even to use the restroom. (To pee or not to pee...) The fear was as soon as you stepped foot outside of that hallway, the monitor would announce that the people behind the table would see EMCs. Then you’d miss your name and have to resign up at the end of the list.  Your chances of getting in the room to audition then, were practically zero.

I was still able to book some non-equity performing gigs. I was “The Prince” in an off Broadway musical retelling of Sleeping Beauty, from his perspective. I worked on Holland America, sailing the Bahamas doing three shows including Smokey Joe’s Café. I understudied “Prez” in The Pajama Game. Was cast as “Daddy Brubeck” in Sweet Charity, was a replacement in The Wiz, and had my third go round in A Chorus Line at Surflight. 

But they were just more of the same: no unemployment, no pension, no health, no security, no money and no card.

Amir had no such problems. He was able to attend every audition. In fact he ended up getting his Equity card rather quickly. After that it was just a short amount of time before he got his first Broadway contract. Classes and networking paid off for him. As did having his family's money backing him.

I remember going to see Amir’s Broadway debut and being insanely jealous. I seethed with anger for quite a while. He’d made it. He got his card. He got his pension. He joined the credit union. And he got to be on Broadway. He was stable and his life was perfect. Mine not so much.

The cruise ship orcehstra roommate got a boyfriend and decided to move to the upper west side with him. So, the brother of that roommate moved in with me. The man was “mugged” twice within two weeks. Of course his rent money was stolen. I couldn’t afford my apartment alone, and I certainly couldn’t afford to live with someone who frequented questionable places. What if he brought some of that home? So I hightailed it out of there. I moved four blocks over to live with my friend Sean. We had met doing A Chorus Line at Surflight. Sean hated living with his current roommate. It was his apartment, so he kicked the roommate out and offered me the spot. And by "spot" I mean the sofa bed in the living room.

I went from a pied-a-terre on 96th and Central Park West, to a one bedroom, shared by three people, on 187th street, to my own windowless room in midtown, to sleeping on a sofa bed. I also went from constant non-equity work, to sporatic performing, to waiting tables and singing on a dinner cruiser.

All of this lit a fire under my butt. This was not what I had come to NYC to do. I worked long and hard. I budgeted and counted pennies. I even got on the work/study program at Broadway Dance Center. I did whatever I could to get to class. On top of that, I attended every audition humanly possible. I had one goal: get my Equity card.

And get my card I did.

“...And oh the towering feeling...”

Give in to that easy living...

PART 1 of a multi-part post

In high school drama club we had a tyrant of a director. His name was Mr. Eiklor. If you’ve been keeping up with my blog you've read all about him. He was completely opinionate and his opinions were the only ones that mattered. To offset throwing coffee cups at our heads, he would give some of his special students treats and trips to the theatre. I was lucky enough to be invited to see a show with him.

I remember when he came to my house to pick me up. Dick, a friend of mine since the third grade and the Drama club star/president, was already in the car. I got in and Mr. Eiklor’s first words to me were “You smell like a French whore. The both of you do.” I guess Dick and I had over done it with the cologne. We were teenagers and it was a big day. We were going to see professional theatre.

The town right next to ours had built a gigantic theatre. It could seat 2200 people inside. The rear walls of the audience opened up, much like a garage door. Behind the doors was a giant sloped lawn which was essentially a huge amphitheater-like space. Another 2500 people could be “seated” outside. The theatre was a union house, meaning only Equity actors and IATSE (the stage hands union) members could work there.

From the moment we entered the huge courtyard which led to the front doors I was in awe of everything. I don’t even remember what show we saw there. It may have been Godspell. At any rate it was amazing. I do remember that much.

Mr. Eiklor told us the only place worth anything in terms of theatre training in our area was Brother Augustine’s program at Niagara University. So naturally both Dick and I, and our female counterparts applied there and got accepted. Only three of us actually went though.

At the end of our freshman year at Niagara, auditions for a summer show were posted. The University had partnered with the local union theatre to do a pre-season show. Luckily for me it was “Joseph...” Lots of guys are needed for that show, guys who can dance.

Both Dick and I got into the show. He actually got cast in the part that should have been mine. This was where my educational institute began to fail me. But hindsight is 20/20 and that’s another story.

After the pre-season show the union house held local auditions for their season. The students weren’t allowed to work outside of the theatre department. Only the seniors from our school were allowed to attend the auditions, since they would technically have graduated when the shows started. If they got cast in a show, they would get their Equity card at the end of the contract. That was every seniors dream: graduate, book a show at this Equity house, get their Equity card and then head to New York City.

My senior year Niagara University did West Side Story for the union house pre-season show. I played “Chino”. I auditioned but didn’t get cast in the union theatre’s season though. No one from my class did. I did however get booked to be a supernumerary in the opera portion of their summer season, which preceded the musicals. I was going to do La Traviata, Das Rheingold and Girl of the Golden West. We were paid pretty well for standing around in costumes doing nothing.

Hard as I tried, I had no life plans after the operas were to close. However Life had plans for me. I only got to do two of the three operas. After the second I got a call from a theatre company that attended the NETC’s (New England Theatre Conference). I had auditioned for them there and they wanted to cast me. I was off to do my first gig outside of my hometown area.

That first gig we were paid $65 a week plus housing and transportation. Part of our pay was withheld. That money would be awarded us upon completion of our contracts. It may sound shady but that’s how they got people to stay for the season. I guess turnover was great.

That summer I did Sugar Babies, My One and Only and 42^nd Street. I worked from July through September. When September came around, the company offered me their winter season with double the pay. At the same time the musical director from the summer season offered me a job doing a Christmas show at quadruple the money I had made that summer. He was from Buffalo, which is about 20 minutes from my hometown. That meant basically going back home. I could see nothing in my future after the review closed, except getting stuck at home. So I took the theatre’s offer to work. I played “Andy Lee” in 42^nd Street. I worked right up until Christmas then headed home for the holidays.

After the holidays were over I got on a greyhound bus and went to New York City. I didn’t have my Equity card. I didn’t have a job.  What I did have was two hundred dollars, three suitcases and an unnatural fear of never leaving my home town. I needed a way to make money and a place to live. What I didn’t need was an Equity card. There was non-union work to be had.

So I auditioned my butt off. I got cast in a show at Columbia University. They were doing a “revival” of Chekov’s The Bed Bug. It paid, not well, but it paid. It didn’t matter though. A friend from the winter season got me signed up with a temp agency. I was temping in offices to make rent.

Then I got cast in a two week stock season in Massachusetts. Two week stock means that every other week a new show is opened. The company would be performing one show at night and rehearsing the next show during the day. That summer I did Sugar Babies, La Cage Aux Folles, Little Shop of Horrors, Dreamgirls, Man of La Mancha, 42^nd Street, A Chorus Line (for the second time in my career) and The Three little Pigs.  I met some great people there including Arthur and Chandra Wilson. We made pretty good money that summer. And we were on the Cape so it was a win/win.

After the summer, I was invited back to do that winter season again. I went right from summer stock to winter stock again. I did 42^nd Street (again), La Cage Aux Folles (again) and Annie.

Up until this point I had been subletting and couch surfing with friends in NYC. This time when I returned, I had what I thought of as a decent amount of money. With a friend from university, I rented my first apartment. It was a pied a tier on 96^th Street and Central Park West.

Also because the money was “flowing”, the credit card companies came a knocking on my door. They offered me all kinds of things: zero percent this and perk that and cash back on purchases. You name it they offered it to me. I had never had credit cards before. My parents had taken care of all my finances. But I was an adult now. I vowed not to accept help from my parents. So I took the credit card companies up on their offers. All of them.

My friend Arthur was cast in Dreamgirls in Connecticut. They needed a guy to play the part I had just played the summer I had met Arthur. He recommended me. The theatre hired me. We did a long run. This time I could commuted to and from the show, which was great. I got to enjoy my apartment and work in theatre and make money and live in New York City.

After the show closed, it seemed like work dried up for a bit. It had been three years of almost constant non-union theatre work. A break was to be expected. As hard as I tired I just could not do enough temp work to pay my all my bills, which now included credit card bills and my student loans. I had taken a deferment on my student loans so I could do that initial theatre job making $65 a week.

And doing that initial job was the right choice for me. It provided me with contacts which provided me with more work, which provided me better pay, which provided me more contacts...you get the picture.

The break in theatre gigs didn’t last long. Well, long enough for me to want to kill myself if I had to sit behind another desk and answer phones all day long. Luckily I got hired to be in the ensemble of Hello Dolly at a theatre in Pennsylvania.

Then Manuel, a dancer from Dreamgirls in Connecticut called. He told me to audition for a theme park show. He was assisting the choreographer and thought they would like me. So I auditioned. I booked the gig.

Unfortunately the theme park show and Hello Dolly overlapped each other. I had to do some fancy talking and promising in order to keep both contracts. Manuel even offered to help me catch up in terms of what the rest of the cast would learn while I while I was finishing up the “Dolly” contract. Thanks to Manuel, it was settled. I could join the theme park show a week late.

And I was off again.

It was different now though. I had an apartment to myself. My roommate had moved out. He was going through some stuff. He actually blamed his leaving on the fact that he couldn’t stand to hear my belts clinging in the morning when I got ready to go temp. 

So the shoe was on the other foot. This time I had to find someone to sublet my apartment.

First I offered my place first to my friend Franchesca. She was in an abusive relationship and wanted to leave her boyfriend. I hadn’t met him, so her coming to live in my place worked perfectly. Franchesca disappeared into my apartment. She got her life back on track and then moved out. After her, my friend Neil wanted to move into the city from Jersey so he took over the sublet.

The theatre doing Hello Dolly loved me. They offered me a contract to do their next show, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Now that is one of my favorite shows and I’ve always wanted to do it. Badly. However even though I was one of the best dancers in the company, the theatre wouldn’t allow me to be one of the brothers. I had to be a suitor. And we all know why. So I turned down the contract. Then to entice me, they also offered me the next show after that as well, which was The King and I. I was offered the role of “Lun Tha”, the romantic lead in the show.

I pondered over the decision for weeks. I wanted a crack at being a lead, sine my University did not provide me that opportunity. I also wanted to do one of my favorite shows. It was a tough choice. I finally decided that I was going to do the theme park gig. Sure the contract was shorter, but the pay was better. I would be making about $500 a week. That doesn’t seem like a lot now but at the time the basic chorus contract on Broadway was just around $1100 a week.

Being out of the city for so long I decided it was best to give up my pied a tier on 96^th Street and Central Park West. So when I got a break for Easter, my friend Helga, whom I had met at that $65 a week job, and I packed up my entire apartment in one night put my stuff in storage, and off I went.

After all my contracts had eneded I returned to NYC. Once again I needed a place to live. I took a sublet from my colleague Pedro. We had done Dreamgirls in Connecticut together. He was going out on a non-equity tour. He wanted to keep his apartment. He happened to live with Manny, the guy who helped me with the theme park show. Perfect solution. I also went back to temping to try and get ahead on bills. For some reason I didn’t fully realize that I had to pay back the credit card companies for all the things I had purchased. Silly me. Adulting is hard.

With my theme park salary, combined with the number of weeks I had worked, I qualified to become an Equity Membership Candidate or EMC. I no longer had to wait outside of the Equity lounge to be seen. I could sign up for auditions just like Equity members. I could even audition for Broadway shows without having to wait around all day for the people behind the tables to decide if they were seeing Non-Equity. If.

I continued to work non-equity and audition for Equity shows.  I did another theme park show, starred in a brand new musical off-Broadway and booked a cruise ship. Pedro did multiple contracts on tour. This meant I was able to keep my sublet. I made it my home base and returned there after each gig.

When the dust settled and I was back home in NYC, I returned to temping (again) and auditioning. In the next year I got cast in The Pajama Game, ensemble with a “Prez” understudy in New Jersey, as “Big Daddy” and ensemble in Sweet Charity here in the city, The Wiz in Connecticut, PIE Story Theatre, which was a theatre company that performed in Central Park, and my third go round in A Chorus Line at Surflight.

All of those jobs were non-Equity.All of them were paying. All of them allowed me to live life, take care of my bills, put a little money in the bank and have fun.  All of them took me places I would have never gone to on my own.  All of them taught me so much about the business, and about myself. And all of those jobs connected me with the most fantastic, talented people, many of whom you've heard of, and many of whom I’m still friends with today.

It was a long time ago. And...

“...Might be over now, but I feel it still...”

That Sunday shine is a certain sign...

Passover has arrived. Easter is here and Spring has sprung. Finally. This winter the weather has been all over the place. One day it’s 65 degrees and sunny and the next day it’s -11 and frigid cold. We’ve had four nor’easters, including a snow-magedon, a snow-pocalypse and a bomb cyclone.

There has been one good thing that's come out of the weather. It’s something my friend Sandy, a non-actor, taught me: if there’s a storm in New York City that doesn’t close the subways, that’s when you have the best chance to get tickets to see a Broadway show. I guess it’s because people are afraid of being stranded in bad weather. At any rate it worked for us.

During the fourth storm a couple of weeks ago, Sandy and I were able to get really good last minute seats to see HELLO DOLLY, now starring Bernadette Peters. Our tickets were in the orchestra row L. And we paid less than it cost for rush tickets. For those who may not know, there are several ways to get affordable tickets to see a Broadway show, almost any show. But you’ve got to have time and you’ve got to be prepared to not see it. (Perhaps that should be a future blog)

HELLO DOLLY is one of my favorite shows. It always has been, ever since I saw the movie as a kid starring Barbra Streisand. As an adult I know that the movie is a little off on some things, but I still watch it. And I still enjoy it.

I remember being excited when Broadway announced “Dolly...” was coming back. It has a part that I’ve always wanted to play. Given who the leading lady was slated to be, this was going to be high profile Broadway. I needed advice on whether I should audition or not. Let’s face facts. For some projects auditioning is a futile endeavor. I wondered whether this would be one of them. I chose to talk my talk and walk my walk. I counseled myself just like I would anyone else asking me a theatre question. I took emotions out of the equation and logically responded, like I did for a good friend on Facebook.

Recently my friend became a new Equity member (Congrats!). She seemed a bit confused or lost on a couple of things. So she posted a query on the union Facebook page:

“Just got out of an audition for a theater that had a season full of u/k pieces ... much of it was period specific... but all the women around me were in jeans and slightly dressy shirts or even less. Am I missing something? ...why are people auditioning for established theaters in casual street wear? Is this a thing now? No judgement, truly but I'd like to keep abreast of what is acceptable when pursuing work. Many thanks!”

Another colleague of mine replied with:

“You definitely do NOT need to dress up for an audition anymore, though dressing to suggest never hurts... but casual IS in.”

And then some other woman commented:

“I wear jeans to almost all auditions, unless they have requested that everyone wear stretchy, movement-friendly clothes.”

What?

Are you crazy?

Why would anyone do that to themselves?

Okay. I’m back now...

Here’s the bottom line: An audition is a job interview. Like my friend so astutely said, auditioning is “pursuing work”. Nothing more, nothing less. A person arrives with resume in hand. They enter the room to be interviewed to see if they’re qualified for the position. The boss then decides if they can work together or not. If so, they will be offered a job, unless someone more qualified and more personable comes along. As much as I am loath to admit it, sometimes a big part of acing that interview and getting the job is about how you look. Sometimes it’s not.

After much debate with myself I took my advice. I decided to not audition for HELLO DOLLY on Broadway. The show was too high profile for this big ethnic guy to be cast in one of the leads. Sometimes it comes down to money and name recognition. Talent and or how inclusive the people behind the table state they want the cast to be, no longer matters.

Watching the show, I saw just how incredibly talented and inclusive the cast was. There was every size and shape and hue on that stage. However none of the size or shape or hue was in a leading role. The leading roles were names: first Bette Midler (and Donna Murphy), David Hyde Pierce, Kate Baldwin and Gavin Creel, in the role I want to play. The cast Sandy and I saw had Bernadette Peters, Victor Garber and Santino Fontana, in the role I want to play.

Don’t get me wrong. Clearly one shouldn’t avoid going to a Broadway audition if one feels right for the show. However there are two things that trump talent. Money. Those who have it and those that can bring more to those who have it. The people who were cast in the lead roles in “Dolly” are people who put butts in seat. They bring money to those who have fronted money to put up the show. I made an educated guess that this would be the case. So what I would have worn to the audition, or job interview, wouldn’t have mattered what-so-ever. But outside of that particular scenario it really does matter.

You only get one chance to make a first impression. Is that impression one of not caring about appearance? Or Hygiene? Or any of the other things that job interviewers make judgements on the moment a potential employee walks through the door?

So naturally my reply to my query-minded colleague was:

“As for dressing for an audition...be appropriate. Wear what is comfortable to you, allowing you to do physical work if need be and something that is in the normal scope of you...the nicer dressed version of you. Auditions are job interviews. Respect should be given to all those involved.

And above all else stop looking around the room. The other auditionees are not you, do not have your skill set or your life experiences. You would be remise to judge what you do and or wear by what you see and or hear.

You do you.”

And that is the most important thing: You do you, but the nicer version of you, both in attitude and dress. Again an audition is no more than a job interview where you demonstrate your practical skills pertinent to the job itself. Think about it. How much faith would a stockbroker have in someone interviewing for a job if that someone showed up in jeans and a t-shirt?Who goes to an office job interview in sweats and flip flops? Does someone believe showing up at a law firm in stretchy pants and an over-sized top will help land the position?  Attending a job interview looking like you rolled out of bed does not instill confidence. The issue arises when we creatives believe there are other rules for us because we have talent. And to be honest, in some places that’s all you need: heaps of talent and confidence in said talent.

However a lot of us need to realize that an actor is a business owner, a proprietor, just the same as someone who sells soup. The product, or soup, an actor sells is his or her talent. Is what's being sold chicken noodle or lobster bisque? The “can” the talent comes in is the actor’s physical body. Is it sleek and plastic or metal and eye catching? The “label” of that can of soup, what helps get everyone interested in buying the soup itself, is what the actor is wearing. The actor’s clothes support or distract from his or her talent.

Does your soup label say chicken broth yet the contents are Vichyssoise?

You have to know what you’re selling, what the package is and how to literally dress it up. Then target auditions and theatres who are most likely to purchase that product, because no one can realistically attend every audition. No one. Especially with the new online sign up system Equity has put into place.

Part of the job of an actor is sifting through the auditions and choosing what’s right for the product he or she is selling. Sometimes that’s a show on Broadway and sometimes that’s a show on the Broadway of Wisconsin. Other than budget, there is really no difference between the two. Both can have major talent. Both can be mega hits. And both can propel your career forward.

So the HELLO DOLLY calls keep coming. And I keep not going. It’s not that I doubt my talent...much...anymore. It’s that I’m being very selective in which auditions I attend. I focus and hone in on projects that are within my scope of talent and that I can realistically be cast. I believe “Dolly” on Broadway is not one of them right now.

But in truth if you don’t go to an audition you definitely won’t be cast in the show unless the producer owes you a favor or your dad has a barn...

HELLO DOLLY was everything I think Broadway should be. It was full of talent, designed well and it left the audience feeling something. I loved it and Sandy really liked it too. Did I agree with everything that happened both backstage and on stage? No and neither did Sandy. She couldn’t understand why everyone was walking around on “tippy toes”. But the few things I thought were less than stellar were still amazing and extremely well done. When the cast entered for “Put on Your Sunday Clothes” I smiled from ear to ear while the tears streamed down my face.

Because of targeting projects I want to do and can do, I've had a successful year. I’ve been called back for roles like “Sebastian” in LITTLE MERMAID, “Amos” in CHICAGO, “Ken” in AINT MISBEHAVIN, “Melvin P. Thorpe” in BEST LITTLE WHOREHOUSE IN TEXAS and “Rooster” in ANNIE. And the callbacks have been more consistently happening. Most of the people behind the tables, the people with the money who are looking to me to make them more money, commented very positively on how I was dressed.

Do you want to make a great impression that extends far beyond your talent, freindliness and ability to bring money to those who have it? Do you want to stand above the throngs of people who just schlep from audition to audition not caring what they look like or knowing what they’re selling? Do you want to increase your likelihood of actually getting the part? Or at least getting a callback? Then be smart. Know your product. Target specific shows, companies and theatres that buy what you’re selling. And when you’re getting ready to go to those auditions remember it’s just a job interview. And the easiest non-verbal, non-talent related way to help make a great impression is to...

“...Get out your feathers, your patent leathers, your beads and buckles and bows...”

The way you grab me, must wanna get nasty...

This blog post is rated NC 17 for adult language and sexual situations...

It’s time we had “the talk”.

You may have started to notice certain changes. These changes could be happening with you or with your friends.  People are looking at you, or someone you know, in a very different way. More attention is being given to someone for no apparent reason. Well there is a reason. It’s so common place that it was even immortalized in a Broadway show: “I mean I had eyes. I saw what they were hiring”.

I knew Lester from acting school. I’ve written about him in the blog before. Lester was a dork who looked like an Amish serial killer. He wore plain dark clothes, had a simple haircut, glasses and a full beard with no moustache. He was silly and goofy and fearless. And he thought the world of himself. It’s a good thing too because the world thought nothing of him.

Now Lester, as untalented as he was, was cast as the lead in our school’s drama. He was a personal friend of the program’s director, a close personal friend. Don’t get me wrong, our director was friendly with everyone and everyone thought of him as their friend. However there was a group of guys who were obviously the favorites. They got everything and anything they wanted. Lester was one of them.

With all the late night drives home, and the gifts and the back rubs, the rumors flew.

I met Phineas when I was the assistant director on an Off Broadway show. I’ve written about him before as well. Phineas grew up in a military family on the west coast. He was more of an intellectual artistic child. Aloof and distant, he cultivated his talents. He plays several instruments, dances like a dream and has a beautiful clear high tenor voice. Phineas was a dork too. But he thought despairingly about himself.

One day it happened. Lester had his “I had eyes I saw what they were hiring” moment. So he decided to take his career in his own hands, or more specifically his appearance. While in grad school he took to working out and getting fit. He shaved his “Amish” beard off and got a pseudo trendy haircut. He also got contacts. His transformation finished just before graduation.

It happened to Phineas too, but he decided that there was nothing he could do about his situation. He didn’t go to school. He didn’t go to the gym or alter his appearance in any way. His self-esteem was so low that he thought it was pointless. He stayed on the west coast not auditioning or pursuing theatre at all.

Meanwhile Lester had developed. He looked like his ego: strong, proud and insurmountable. He thought he was on his way but he was getting nowhere in theatre.

Lester’s obstacle in landing a performing gig was his lack of product cohesiveness. His physicality went from dorky outsider to hot guy next door. However his personality remained dorky. Had he adopted the persona of the hot guy next door, the likelihood of him working in theatre would have greatly increased, regardless of talent. His dorkiness didn’t come through in pictures though. He excelled at being photographed. He just looked like a hot guy. The model agencies started knocking on his door. But something terrible happened.

The modeling agencies interest was stroking Lester’s ego, all the while the actual agents tried to stroke other things.

Being a model demands that the clothes fit. One has to be measured to make that happen. With men there is a measurement called the inseam. It’s the length of the inside of the leg, beginning at the groin.

Do you see where this is going?

That measurement on Lester was taken several times. Each time had a brush of the hand or the slip of some fingers. Again and again and again. Being new to the modeling world Lester thought this was de riguer for the industry. However it went against the morals of the dorky guy still inside of him. So he hightailed it out of there.

Phineas wasn’t going anywhere in his career. He simply wasn’t pursuing it. He lacked the nerve even though his dorkiness combined with his talent put him in a perfect position to book work. When he finally got up the nerve to make a move, something terrible happened.

His lack of confidence and initiative necessitated that that perfect position be horizontal.

Phineas wanted to be in a show. He wanted it so badly that he actually slept with the director...

...of a community theatre show...

...to be in the chorus.

Talk about low self-esteem.

Phineas’ insecurities told him this was perfectly acceptable to do. He may have even thought this was the only way he could be cast. I found out about it when he was practically bragging in the dressing room of the show I directed.

Some may shudder at the thought of it. Some may not know the history of theatre, where women, in particular, were perceived to be prostitutes. Acting is the second oldest profession.

Guess which one is first.

Those days are long gone but let’s face facts. Sex sells. If you don’t believe me just watch commercials. Everything in commercials is based on either sex or humor. The picture on this blog is an old ad for jeans. JEANS! You may not find it personally sexy or humorous but the powers that be do. And so the people behind the tables look for it and they hire it. This makes performers the biggest purveyors of sex and sexuality outside of the actual sex industry.

Performers can use sex and sexuality to our advantage. We get callbacks and gigs because of it. We get noticed by the press because of it. The world of performing opens wide if an actor is perceived to be sexy. In American standards a performer is hard pressed to achieve super stardom without being sexy, without being a paragon of masculinity or femininity. But it’s acting on that masculinity, femininity and perceived sexuality that’s not acceptable in a professional situation. Acting on it should never be a prerequisite for getting an agent or a callback or a job or keeping an agent, a callback or a job.

 Harvey Weinstein Is My Monster Too

Let me be clear: Initiating unwanted sexual advances with the promise of work is wrong. Initiating unwanted sexual advances in any situation is wrong. Touching of a sexual nature is not a legitimate industry standard. Period.

So what can be done?

First, an actor should be aware for whom they are auditioning. Research the agent, the company, the theatre, the living situation if it’s out of town and the management. If it doesn’t seem reputable it probably isn’t. Stay away.

But what happens when the job or casting director or project is totally legitimate, as with Salma Hyak and Frida?

This industry is small. The best source for finding information on these things is other performers. You probably know someone who has worked for that person or at that theatre. If not, you’re definitely connected to someone who knows someone who has. (You’ve heard of the game “Six degrees of Kevin Bacon”). Someone has been there. Someone has experienced it. Take what they say into consideration before making your decision.

I was offered a contract with a reputable theatre. Colleagues of mine had also been offered the show. They had done their research and decided it was best to turn it down. I decided to take the contract. I should have followed my friends’ advice because it was hell. Everything about it was awful, from the producers, to the choreographer, to the sound engineers to the wardrobe people. Everything. It was an awful experience. I took it because I was hungry for the work at the time. Much like Phineas, desperation clouded my judgement.

Secondly, take note of where and when the audition is taking place. The majority of major auditions happen during the day like 9-5, or 10-6, during the week. Think office hours. Reputable auditions can happen outside of those times however. For example Actors Equity AAA agent auditions usually start at 7pm and end around 10pm. They’re held at the Actors Equity office in Times Square.

Any audition that happens not in a rehearsal studio in Manhattan, on the upper west side or midtown, immediately flips a security switch within me. Add a nighttime appointment to that and I’m on high alert. I find out as much as I can about where I’m going and why. And how to get back (I have no sense of direction).

If you must go to some random audition for some random company in some random spot at some random time, go. But find an audition buddy to go with you. You can even ask a non-performer friend to come. Just have another person who knows you well along for the ride. There’s a reason people say “There’s safety in numbers”.

That being said I have actually auditioned at someone’s home, alone, at night and in a hotel. I had done my homework and deemed it a safe environment. But I made sure more than one person knew where I was going and when I would be back. I booked both gigs.

I’ve also walked out of an audition in a midtown studio at high noon because the work was offensive and the work environment did not seem to foster healthy development of the piece or an appreciation of my talents.

Removing the temptation and the opportunity for impropriety goes a long way to combat sexual harassment in the work place. Lester was right to leave the model fitting. He was right not to be in contact with that agent or agency again. However he never said anything to anyone when the incident happened. Which in my opinion is not right.

Recently there was, or still is, a flurry of speculation and accusation against theatre professionals. Agents, Casting Directors, Actors, Producers and people in every job description are being accused of impropriety, misconduct and sexual harassment. One of the major casting agencies in NYC has fired a casting director. It’s rumored that others in that office are on the chopping block. The agency has lost clients, multi-million dollar Broadway shows, because of allegations, some of them decades old. Careers are being ruined now and people are losing jobs now because of old indescretions. And not just the people being implicated. And that is not fair.

Had someone spoken up, made the accusations early on when the situation(s) in question first happened, perhaps innocent people would have been spared. Perhaps the support staff of the agencies, the backstage personnel of movies and shows, and their co-stars would have kept their livelihood today. Had someone spoken out, perhaps the next Kristen Chenoweth or Audra McDonald would not have internalized the harassment, destroying their lives. Perhaps the next Markus Schenkenberg (one of the world’s first male supermodels and cover for this blog) wouldn’t have become disillusioned with the “business” side of the fashion industry and left.

Perhaps the myriad of women allegedly abused by Bill Cosby could have been reduced to one.

So why didn’t someone speak up?

Performers are faced with the promise of becoming a star or the threat of never working again. Simply put, McCarthy era blacklists and the “You’ll never work in this town again” or the studio star makers era with the “I’m gonna make you a star kid” mentality, lives on.

There is not a human being on the planet that can stop you from performing, except you. That’s what happened to Phineas. He got in his own way. He let his own insecurities hinder his success. In truth, the director who hired Phineas was probably going to hire him anyway. His singing voice is not one easily replaced. But Phineas will never know that because he slept with him to get the non-paying, non-equity, community theatre job.

What lengths will Phineas go to in order to star in a Broadway show?

Listen, eventually you will be noticed. Someone responsible and upstanding will offer you work based on the merits of your talent. Maybe it’ll be your star making role, maybe not. But there are no short cuts. The road to success is long. It takes work and dedication. It takes research. It takes long countless hours of soul searching and product development. It takes integrity and morality. Sheer tenacity.

Lester continued his quest for work and validation of his inflated ideas of his talent. He left the east coast. He’s now balding and pudgy and does stand-up comedy in L. A. He's happy and his ego is as healthy as ever.

Phineas had moved to NYC from the west coast to pursue theatre. He was cast in my show because of his immense talent. Well, that and the casting director thought he was hot and wanted to date him. But the casting director never made a move. He thought it unprofessional to act on the attraction, even after learning about Phineas’ indiscretion.

Phineas now works as a waiter in a restaurant in midtown. He’s done a one man show but other than that I don’t know. I cut ties with him about year after the show I had directed closed. The caustic and self-deprecating energy was too much for me to handle.

Sex sells. But don’t let someone take it from you. And don’t give it away for a job or a career. If someone does try to make unwanted advances toward you or someone you love, please realize that it has nothing to do with you or your loved ones. Nothing. No one brings it on themselves, not even the overly endowed guy who only wore sweatpants and nothing under them to dance auditions. (True story) It’s not his fault if someone makes unwanted advances with promises of stardom. No one can blame the girl with the breast implants for someone else’s socially unacceptable, sexually aggressive behaviour.  

As victims, we should advise our friends and colleagues about what lurks in the darkness, what’s hiding in the wings. Publicly blast any situation of unwarranted unwanted sexual advances in the work place you've encountered. Use social media, Facebook, Audition update, Twitter or whatever other things you have in your viral arsenal. And if asked have the courage and fortaitude to privately reveal the details. This doesn't mean keeping it hush hush. Tell the unions (SAG-AFTRA, AGVA, AEA, AGMA). File greivences. File lawsuits. Because #TimesUpNow. Agents, Casting Directors, Directors, Teachers, Co-stars, Crew and anyone who traverses into the performing world needs to know that mixing business with personal sexual pleasure is not okay. That here, in the Business of show, there are no...

“...Blurred lines.”

Carry on my wayward son...

The holiday season is a difficult time for a lot of people for a lot of reasons. A few years ago I found myself in a really bad place. My career was in the toilet, my love life non-existent, my bank account was even less existent and most of the people I loved had left, either the area or this plane of existence.

Feeling alone and devastated I thought there was nothing I could do. That depression kept me from auditioning which only caused the situation to multiply. You see, when you walk into a room to sell yourself, your life is on display. That’s not to say the people behind the table will know what’s going on with you personally, but they most definitely will know something is amiss. That gives them an uneasy feeling. And that’s a big reasons an actor doesn’t get hired. 

I was unaware of where to meet eligible people, who had the same likes and interests as I do. So I didn’t go anywhere to meet someone new. Besides, going on a date is like auditioning for a show.  There are so many unspoken things that go into making it to the next round. If I wasn’t going to be fooling anyone behind the table, I certainly wasn’t going to be fooling anyone behind a coffee or a drink.

I had been working my day job a lot, but just couldn’t seem to get ahead of the bills. No cash and my credit was tapped. Going to spend time with any of my best friends who live in other places around the world was out of the question.

So I sat complaining and bemoaning my life. Everyday. I didn’t know it at that time, but that only made it worse. One day I was whining to my friend Lisa when seemingly out of the blue she said:

“Pick number.”

“Why?”

“Just pick number.”

“Any number?”

“Any number. Just do it.”

Now you pick a number between 25 and 300.

Any number.

Just do it.

Before you read on, write it down.

The number I picked was 123.

Lisa told me that for 123 consecutive days I was to post on social media one thing I was grateful for. It could be anything, just one thing or person I was grateful for. She guaranteed it would help.

So for 123 days on Facebook I posted something I was grateful for. The very first ones were difficult.

1.      I am grateful I can breathe.

But was I really?

My life had hit pretty low. But this was the only thing I could think of to write. I struggled with finding something to be grateful for. However somewhere in the middle that shifted. I was no longer trying to dig up some obscure random thing to be grateful for. I was actually walking down the street looking for something in everyday life, anything amazing or mundane, that made me feel blessed to be here and doing what I was doing with my life.

With that came an incredible thing. The heavy feeling of nothingness slipped away. I could see the world for the beauty that was there without superimposing my depression, my longing, my hopelessness on it.

It took some time for me to get there though. All the while my Facebook friends (those in life and those in the cyber world only) would comment. Some would agree, some would be happy and some would be downright pissy about my gratitude posts.

“What the hell is this?”

“I’m tired of seeing these numbered posts on my feed.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.  You need to stop.”

But I didn’t. For 123 days I posted one thing I was grateful for. For 123 days I found something good and hopeful about the world. For 123 days I listened to the Universe instead of listening to the hurtful voices in my head...or those on social media.

By the end of 123 days, everything was okay. I could face my life again. I could walk into an audition and freely do my job. I was able to smile and focus on the good in Life. This was exactly what I needed. Weeks afterwards I would walk around finding things to be grateful for. I found myself missing saying to the world what made me happy to be alive. And several social media friends said they missed reading them as well.

By no way am I suggesting posting on social media as a cure for serious depression, or chemical imbalance. If you think your depression may be genetically or neurologically caused, seek professional help. There is no shame in asking and it doesn't make you seem weak. In fact it takes a strong person to ask for help.

If your depression and lack of self-worth are externally caused, if it seems as if you have no friends around, or no money, or no career, or any combination of those things, remember that number you picked earlier. Post something you’re grateful for on social media, one post per day for every number. Don’t tell anyone what you’re doing. Just do it. Be resilient because there will be haters. More importantly there will be people who are drawn to the posts. It helps them see the beauty in the world as well.

Do it, especially if the holidays gotcha down. Your mindset will be altered, uplifted out of the mire. And like Lisa, I promise. ...

“...there’ll be peace when you are done.”

If you want to see where magic leads...

Late in the summer I was feeling overwhelmed and under-stimulated. In short I was feeling stuck and uncreative. I had lost inspiration for the myriad of personal and professional projects I had been working on. In a lapse of judgement I posted about it on Facebook, nothing maudlin or depressing. I just needed to let the world know.

There was some encouraging responses. There were also a couple snarky inappropriate ones. I’m going to blame Lester, an old colleague of mine. I’m not sure if he was the culprit, but he tends to leave snarky comments on Facebook. Whatever.

I got a personal message from an old friend of mine. She had read my status update and decided to give me a shout out. She quit her job and went to school. She just finished and is now a certified Life Coach and is in the process of building clientele. Meanwhile she has decided to get back into performing. She offered a barter: She would help me get unstuck if I would help her get back into the theatre world.

About a week later we meet up for coffee and a chat. She addled my brain with questions that I should have answers to but never do. I gave her pointers on the things she needs to do to return to the Business.

With it being September and school starting, and new actors arriving into major cities like the “Star-to-Be” from the musical Annie, I thought it would be a good idea to give some helpful hints to all those newbies. I also thought it good to give some reminders to those old dogs returning to the Business. It may be time to learn some new tricks.

I subscribe to a bunch of casting sites who are helpful in making connections between actors, casting directors and agents. Almost every day there’s something in my inbox about a seminar or a webinar, a class, a meet and greet or a workshop. Sometimes there are helpful tips. One such list of tidbits came from Tom Lapke at Actors Launch Pad.

I’ve never actually met Tom or participated in any of their offerings, so this isn’t a testimonial to support him and or Actor’s Launch Pad, but I thought 99% of the things he said bared repeating, especially for any new or returning actors (and dancers and singers and performers and...)

The email I received form Tom was him celebrating his 38^th birthday. He thought to share 38 things about performing that are a must know.  I’m not sure what kind of order he put them in, but I’ll be taking some of them out of order. In fact I’m starting with his number 9, which is the very thing I told my friend during our coffee chat:

         9.    It's 2017. You need a damn website.

I think this is self-explanatory. Websites are not expensive to build or maintain. The domain name and hosting are what you have to pay for. In fact you can do the designing and updating on your own with little computer knowledge. There are tons of do-it-yourself website builders where all you do is drag and drop. And everyone should be able to do that. It’s 2017.

1.      CDs want you to be amazing. If you walk into the room and kill it, they can move on to casting the next role. You have no bigger fan in the room than the CD.

This is true. I’ve been a casting director for several shows. We (they) want you do be amazing, they hope and dream that you are amazing. It makes their job so much easier if you're amazing. It really does. So be nice to casting directors because they truly are rooting for you.

2.      Acting is a marathon, not a sprint. Marathons take a lot of training. Are you working out your actor muscle every day?

If you don’t use it you lose it. My bestie Thurston is up in New York City staying with me. He has a contract lined up for the winter, but he wants to do two things. First he wants to see where his career is in terms of employability (did I just make up a word?). Secondly he wants to work out his audition muscle. Down in Florida there isn’t the same number of opportunities to hone your skills. So he came up and has been going to basically an audition a day. Smart man.

3.      Stop complaining how hard this is. Everyone knows. Everyone told you. You still showed up.

Hey, a calling is a calling. That being said, if you’re in the Business to simply become rich and famous with no regard for the work, please stop showing up.

4.      Your headshot is a marketing tool, not a glamor shot. Even if you look amazing in the photo, if that is not what you look like when you walk in, you are wasting everyone's time.

And even more importantly, after the audition has finished no one will remember who you are because there is no physical representation to remind them of who you are. And you want the people behind the table to remember who you are in a good and positive way. Outside of training, it’s the third step to getting hired. The second is showing up. And the first is getting a headshot that looks like the person who is going to walk through the door.

5.      You went into business for yourself when you decided to be a professional actor. Treat it as such.

This is the hardest for some artists to grasp. There are books and books about the Business of show. I can say nothing succinctly about the subject except read those books. My personal favorite is “Acting, Make it Your Business” by Paul Russell.That is a plug cause I think it's a great book.

6.      Give yourself a break for not being famous. Most of us aren't.

See my answer to number 3.

7.      Stop trying to be everything for everyone. Casting wants you to be YOU. That is why they called you in.

I’m torn. Being a character actor I have a hard time agreeing with this. When I’m sitting behind the table looking for non-character actors, I totally agree with this. Strange huh?

8.      A 9 in Kansas is a 7 in NYC and a 6 on TV. Realize that we aren't all made to play the romantic lead. Most of those roles are boring anyway.

In my opinion a 9 in Kansas is a 6 in New York and a 5 on film. This principal also applies to level of study. If for example, a dancer is in the advanced Ballet class in Iowa, with classes going from beginner to intermediate to advanced. That same dancer should target the advanced beginner class In New York. That doesn’t sound like a big difference, however it is when knowing how the level of NYC classes are ranked. It goes from absolute beginner to beginner to advance beginner to intermediate to intermediate advanced to advanced to professional. A performer has to know where he or she fits, if they are looking to transfer to the larger city markets.

10.  You also need a reel.

A reel is a compilation of clips from movies, TV, concerts, webisodes, sitcoms and whatever other forms of captured moving images there are, highlighting a single actor’s work. In this case you. See number 27.

27.  Your reel should never, ever, ever be more than 3 minutes long, and even that is a bit indulgent.

I disagree. That is totally indulgent. Unless you’re the star of major network sitcoms, or movies, your reel should be no longer than two minutes. Keep the clips short and concise. Don’t feature anyone else and put your best most recent stuff at the top of the reel. If they want more they’ll ask for it or they’ll call you in for an audition.

29.  Don't start your reel with clever montages set to music. Casting doesn't care. Just cut to the chase. See number 27.

11.  CDs Facebook stalk you when they are considering you for a role. If you are an ass on social media, they will reconsider you.

And so will agents and managers. Keep it clean and keep it cute or keep it off line.

12.  There are 1000 reasons why you didn't book the role, 999 of them had nothing to do with you.

Outside of auditioning, your job is to not allow them that one reason out of a thousand. Show up. Be prepared. Be polite and see number 24 and number 11.

13.  You should meet CDs to get an agent, not the other way around.

Every agent I auditioned for or interviewed with asked the same question: which Casting Directors know you, by name. They want you to be doing the work as well. And you should be.

14.  If you are reading this email, you probably don't need an agent and a manager (25% commission is a lot, y'all!).

I kind of feel like this is a bit self-aggrandizing. Help is help. A connection is a connection. The more people you have in your corner supporting you, promoting you and working for you, the better. That being said, 25% of your gross salary is a lot of money. Most of us can’t afford to lose that much right off the top. We got bills to pay!

15.  When you start missing auditions because of your survival job, it is time for a new survival job.

Now this one I don’t agree with. Here in New York City there are hundreds upon hundreds of auditions. Missing one or two, or even a few, because you have to make money to pay your rent or your student loan or credit card bill is acceptable. It’s called Life. And there are things outside of theatre and auditioning a person needs to do to be living it. However if you’re in a city or town that has only a handful of auditions a year, you can’t afford to miss even one that you’re right for.

16.  CD's don't really talk to each other. You would have to do something that made the papers for them to hear about your screw up in the room. Don't sweat it. No one knows.

I don’t know about this one. I would have to believe at certain times Casting Directors do talk to each other, especially those working in the same agency. I would think it would take something monumental for them to talk across the boards. So I’ll take his word on it.

17.  Same thing goes for agents and managers.

It’s my feeling that agents and managers are far more territorial than CDs. Also if an actor screws up royally it reflects poorly on their agency. Why would agents want to promote negative things about their clients?

18.  "If you can do anything else, do it instead of acting" is bullshit. Do what you love, but do it smart.

Another one I kind of disagree with. If there is something else you think you love as much as acting, DO pursue it. You’ll know within a short time frame of leaving the Business whether or not that was the right choice. And the beauty in almost all choices is you can always choose again.

19.  If you need to take some time off to regroup, do it. The industry will not notice if you are gone for a few weeks.

No they won’t. And being healthy physically and mentally will only help your business. Be wary though. If you take too much time away, whatever contacts you have made, may forget you exist or they may no longer exist themselves. That only means you’ll have to start all over again.

20.  The actors union is great, but make sure you are ready to join

This was the subject of one of my earliest posts. It needs to be amended...perhaps next month. But for now please know that you must be prepared to not work once you join the union. It’s hard to get your card but more harder to get your second union gig. (And I said that sentence exactly the way I meant to say it).

21.  Know what you are selling.

It’s about knowing your type and what you bring to the table. Outside of this simple statement, there lies a complex and convoluted issue. In short take a good hard look at who you are, physically, mentally and professionally. Take a look at how others perceive you, especially those who don’t really know you personally. Now add your performing skills into the equation. All these things have to add up to one product. If they don’t there could be difficulties in getting cast. A lot of difficulties. (I think it may be time to dedicate an entire post about this one).

22.  Don't worry if your resume is a little thin. Everyone started somewhere.

I made the mistake of “beefing up” my resume once. I got called on it in the room by the director. Needless to say I didn’t get the job. It’s also needless to say that I "un-beefed" that sucker real quick.

23.  An agent makes 10%. That means you should be doing 90% of the work.

Yes, yes, yes. I tried very hard to convince a colleague, Arthur, about this. We’re out of contact now so I don’t know if he ever took my advice. I hope he did and stopped sitting around waiting for his agent to get him an audition.

24.  This is a small business. Don't act a fool in the holding room. People will drag you on The Bitching Post.

Forget about the Bitching Post (an online spot to do exactly what the name implies). This is a business. You should conduct yourself accordingly. You can never know who is in the room or the building for that matter, that has some connection to the project you’re auditioning for or even your next audition.

25.  Don't let the misconceptions of civilians that are not in the industry bring you down.

Read my post There's a lot I am not certian of...

26.  Have more than one headshot. You should have multiple shots that sell you for different projects. The days of one good picture are long gone.

This feeds right into number 21.

28.  If someone emails you for a modeling gig that you didn't submit for, and you are not regularly modeling, it's a scam. It's always a scam.

‘Nuf said.

30.  If you "don't watch a lot of TV or movies," then you have no right complaining about not booking those gigs. Know what is going on in your industry.

The same goes for musicals and straight plays and dance and whatever other artistic pursuits you are currently pursuing. You have to know what’s going on out there in order to be competitive in that market. And yes it can be expensive. There are ways you can cut that expense considerably. My bestie Thurston has amazing luck with winning the lotteries for shows. He's in town, so I've seen a few more Broadway musicals than I would have. He's been here for 6 weeks and won four lotteries,including Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. No Hamilton yet. We're still working on that one.

31.  Same thing goes for the trades. Brokers read the Wall Street Journal, doctor's read the New England Journal of Medicine, you should be reading Deadline and Variety.

And Playbill and Broadway World and all of them. But I don’t do this one and I know I should. So I’m not going to say anything about it. I don’t want to be a hypocrite.

32.  Don't just submit for roles that meet your age range. There is a reason there are other adjectives in that breakdown.

I’m torn about this one. Yes, an actor shouldn’t type himself or herself and submit for everything in the range of their talents. However there are people of every age in the Performing Arts. If the top of your age range is 30 and you submit for a 45 year old role, you have to realize that there is a 45 year old somewhere who can play that 45 year old role. I’m not sure the large percentage of possible rejection and heartbreak outweighs the small percentage of possibly being cast outside your look. Also see number 21.

33.  When leaving a note on an Actors Access submission, don't write a novella and just cut to the chase. "10 years horseback riding" or whatever they are looking for is all you need to write.

A casting director wants to give everyone who is legitimately qualified for the work a chance to audition. It makes their job easier and makes them look good in the eyes of the people who hired them. But there are hundreds of people submitting for a handful of roles. Sometimes it’s impossible to get through them all. Which is why Actors Access says to submit as early as possible. In my own personal experiences, I have to admit that if I didn’t read what I needed in the first handful of words on a submission I stopped reading and moved to the next one.  Also see number one.

34.  Don't submit to a CD on their personal social media.

If you aren’t personal friends with a Casting Director then you should not be on their personal sites. If you are personal friends with CDs then you should know the difference between work and play. It’s called boundaries.

36.  Don't ever make physical contact with your reader at an audition unless specifically instructed to do so. This should be obvious, but I've heard soooooo many horror stories at this point.

I was just visiting with an old friend of mine who feels he lost out on a major gig because he touched the reader without consent. This puts the reader on guard and changes the dynamic and energy of the audition. When inclined to manhandle the help, ask first.

37.  Pay for professional headshots. I'm sure your friend's DSLR is great, but you're a professional. Get professional shots done.

Besides going with the person who take great shots, go to someone who doesn’t know you that you connect with. That photographer will have a better chance of capturing the person who walks into the audition. See number 4.

There are two points Tom for Actor’s Launch Pad makes that I want to end with. I think they’re very important to know, remember and live each and every day:

          35.  There is room in the industry for you. Just put your head down, 
                do the work, and grind it out.

And:

          38.  Acting is an ancient and noble profession with the power to 

                change the hearts and minds of the people. Be proud of what 

                you do.

Be proud because you create something where there once was nothing. You breathe life into air. That’s amazing.  That takes strength, stamina and business acumen. And all the suffering and studying and networking and heartbreak that comes with that is the price you pay. For me it's worth it because when it’s all said and done...

“...There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination.”