Theatre Company H is one of the companies where I feel I have a good relationship. If I ever become big as a writer, my plan is that Theatre Company B, E, and H will get "dibs" on my work, as an appreciation of the opportunities they have given me.
I've known about Theatre Company H for years. My kids were involved in their summer acting programs years ago. I auditioned for them as a lark. They were having two auditions that night. One was for a play called "Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" and the other was for a play called "Dinner Habits".
Because they aren't exactly swimming in cash (as opposed to drowning in expenses), they tend to perform original works. Performing an original work means not paying royalties!
"Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" was a low-brow farce on Shakespeare. I was offered a part in the play: I would be playing Shlomo Slycock. "Dinner Habits" was set in an Irish family: I felt as though the director was trying hard to find a place for me in the play (he seemed impressed with my acting), but there was just no way I could pull off being Irish. As it turned out, the performance of "Dinner Habits" was canceled.
"Shakespeare in the Trailer Park" was not a very good play. I felt as though the author really didn't "get" Shakespeare. Shakespeare is already filled with lowbrow humor, yet none of that made an appearance in this play. The big center point of the play, in my opinion, was when I recited a list of pornographic titles based on Shakespeare plays ("Tight Ass Andronicus"). One of the things I just didn't understand was . . . why were people laughing through the rehearsals? Rehearsals were filled with loud laughter . . . I stopped finding the play funny by the second rehearsal!
I didn't have a big part in this play, not as big as one would have expected given that I was supposed to be the big villain (I really wasn't). The problem was that my appearances on stage were spread out, so this meant I was needed at almost every rehearsal. This was pretty exhausting, especially considering I was getting increasingly bothered by the fact that the play wasn't very good.
There were some questions about the casting. The man that played the villain did not get along with Marsha, the director. I could see that he needed some serious work creating his character. The man playing the lead . . . well, he wasn't very good. This became a problem because the secondary lead in the play was a pure scene stealer, and the lead just couldn't hold his own against him. Many in the cast had problems with the secondary lead. He was improv'ing like crazy during the show, to the point where he was disrupting the other performers. When a show has to pause because members of the cast can't hold in their laughter, he needs to cool it!
When we had the preview performance, the audience was largely unresponsive. We were in the dressing room thinking "what have we gotten ourselves into?" Then came opening night. The show wound up being a hit! It even had three positive reviews! Go figure.
By the way, I sent Marsha some of my scripts, and she liked them. She will be putting on at least one of my plays in February, and another of my plays perhaps in 2013!
Somewhere during the rehearsal times for "Trailer Park", I went to another theatre to audition for "Angels in America", which was to be performed in the summer. I quickly received my rejection e-mail. At this point, I was VERY upset, as I love that play. I decided that, for my own sanity, I needed to take a break from acting. I was already committed to a performance at a medieval fair August, but I decided to stop any further auditioning. Theatre Company B rented the theatre during part of the summer, to put on "Rent", but I wasn't interested. Theatre Company H's "big show" was "Rocky Horror" in October, also directed by Marsha, but I decided to not audition for it. A friend of mine wanted to put on "Pirates of Penzance", but I didn't audition for it. As it turns out, he didn't have enough men, so he canceled that show.
I finally auditioned for their Christmas show, which was two one acts. One of the one acts was based on "Gifts of the Magi", and I was one of the towns-people. I played the Italian soda vendor, and the author of the play (and assistant director) revealed that they chose that part for me because of my dark skin. Okay.
My problem with the play (aside from the fact that I don't think "Gift of the Magi" works as a heartwarming holiday story) was the leads. I get the impression that everyone that auditioned was offered a part. It then became a game of figuring out who fit where. That was when they decided to place me as the Italian soda vendor. The man that got the part of the narrator, essentially, looked the part of a narrator, an old man sitting on a nice chair and telling the story for the audience. The problem is . . . he wasn't very good. He started getting better and more expressive during the second week of the run, but he still was tripping over his lines.
The wife . . . oh my goodness! The positive side: she's pretty. It turns out that she's a part-time model. That's all great. The problem is that she was easily the worst actress I have ever worked with. If I could give her some advice, it would be to speak, on stage, the way you speak off-stage! It's "beautiful", not "bee you tee full"!
The husband had a pleasant sounding voice, but the relaxed conversational tone of his voice often resulted in slurring. The real problem was that he wasn't acting. I wanted to shake him at one point, telling him "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE SAD NOW!"
These three, chosen in no small part because of how they look, were the center points of this play, and that brought down the whole productions. Several people told me what a fine job I did in my part, but what is the point when the leads were so terrible?
For me, this brought some things into focus. They only had a few people to work with, as not very many people came out for the audition. In the process of fitting people into parts, they looked more at who "looked the part", instead of acting ability. I can forgive that for a silly little production, but I realized that this happens often. When whole ethnic groups are shut out from consideration, when I can really impress the audition committee but not even get a call-back, the quality of the show suffers. If, in this silly little Christmas play, they had cast, say, an african american woman as the wife, the audience would have had to deal with that . . . which would have taken maybe 30 seconds early on. Instead, they put a white woman in the role, thus saving the audience those 30 seconds . . . but instead the audience must spend the entire show dealing with her dreadful acting!
After this show, I auditioned for "Macbeth" also at this theatre company. Again, I don't think enough people auditioned, so the director is spending time combining parts and cutting out parts. I think I did well in the audition, but in the end I was offered the part of the "old man", who appears briefly an hour into the show, and another character that appears maybe two hours into the show. That's a LOT of time sitting in the green room! I took a look at the parts and found them uninteresting and not challenging at all, so I declined his offer. That is only the second time I have declined an offer!
I will, however, be continuing my relationship with this company. One of my plays will be performed here as part of their "one acts" night. Theatre Company B wants to rent this theatre in February to put on "Vampe", another of my plays. And there are plenty more auditions coming up!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Where Am I Now?
Before I get back to bitching about local community theatre companies, I'd like to take a moment to talk about where I am.
I made a decision that in 2012 I would no longer accept any parts that I didn't find interesting and challenging. I don't need heavy amounts of stage time or a starring role, but I do need something that challenges me. I act for fun, and acting has become boring for me. Worse than that, I have been in shows where I was given a bit part, and the leads were terrible: this adds a whole new level of frustration. When I watch the person that IS the lead, I would like to see some reason why that person got the part . . . I'd like to be impressed. When the person is mediocre or bad and I see that they only reason they got the part is because of their skin color, I wonder "why am I even trying?"
Most of all, I don't feel like I'm learning anything.
Anyway, yes I understand that this could mean that I will not act at all in 2012. Either I'm not as good as I think I am and I can't expect better parts than I have been getting . . . or I am good and something else (my skin color) is preventing me from being cast. Either way, I need to get my head on straight with the reality that maybe I won't be acting at all this year.
Of course, I'm hoping that not jumping for every bit part will mean that I will find that mystical theatre company that will give me a good solid part!
Until then, it seems I'm now a writer.
A director I have worked with, Marsha (more on her later), seems to really like my writing. She wants to do my play "Leia", but that will likely have to be put off until 2013. She does want to do a workshop, however, and I think that will be a great idea. She is planning on putting on my play "The Crystal" in February, as part of an evening of one-acts.
I wrote the play "Vampe" with the director of Theatre Company B, based on his original ideas. We want to stage this in February, which means finishing off the music. He wants me to perform in it as well: the part we have in mind isn't big, but it is interesting (hey, I wrote it). I will probably only be acting in the first run, in February. I am hoping the show will get another run later in the year: I think this one will be big!
Theatre Company E is interested in doing some workshops of one-act plays, and they are very interested in several of my plays, including "Leia". They will decide in late December or January.
And, in January, I should be hearing from a theatre company in New York City about two plays I had written ("A Prisoner" and "Act 3"). They are having a one-act festival in February, so let's see if these plays get anywhere!
I have a part in an Internet series. We will start filming that in January. Originally, I was just in one scene, but they were so impressed with my acting that they decided to pepper me around various points in the series. This company also wants to make a horror movie, and I'm definitely interested in that! I am willing to take small roles in film because this is a very new area for me; one of my acting teachers has told me that I will likely have better opportunities in film.
I do have another thought in the back of my mind. I am pondering if I am ready to direct something like "Romeo and Juliet". I imagine creating a company and finding a venue. I imagine reaching out to find a multi-ethnic cast, and being willing to cast minorities in the lead roles. My goal would be to show that this could work, that it's time for the community theatre world to stop being so ethnically restrictive. This means putting on a show of huge quality, so I can prove this point . . . the only question is, am I up for it? To be honest, I don't even know where to start!
I made a decision that in 2012 I would no longer accept any parts that I didn't find interesting and challenging. I don't need heavy amounts of stage time or a starring role, but I do need something that challenges me. I act for fun, and acting has become boring for me. Worse than that, I have been in shows where I was given a bit part, and the leads were terrible: this adds a whole new level of frustration. When I watch the person that IS the lead, I would like to see some reason why that person got the part . . . I'd like to be impressed. When the person is mediocre or bad and I see that they only reason they got the part is because of their skin color, I wonder "why am I even trying?"
Most of all, I don't feel like I'm learning anything.
Anyway, yes I understand that this could mean that I will not act at all in 2012. Either I'm not as good as I think I am and I can't expect better parts than I have been getting . . . or I am good and something else (my skin color) is preventing me from being cast. Either way, I need to get my head on straight with the reality that maybe I won't be acting at all this year.
Of course, I'm hoping that not jumping for every bit part will mean that I will find that mystical theatre company that will give me a good solid part!
Until then, it seems I'm now a writer.
A director I have worked with, Marsha (more on her later), seems to really like my writing. She wants to do my play "Leia", but that will likely have to be put off until 2013. She does want to do a workshop, however, and I think that will be a great idea. She is planning on putting on my play "The Crystal" in February, as part of an evening of one-acts.
I wrote the play "Vampe" with the director of Theatre Company B, based on his original ideas. We want to stage this in February, which means finishing off the music. He wants me to perform in it as well: the part we have in mind isn't big, but it is interesting (hey, I wrote it). I will probably only be acting in the first run, in February. I am hoping the show will get another run later in the year: I think this one will be big!
Theatre Company E is interested in doing some workshops of one-act plays, and they are very interested in several of my plays, including "Leia". They will decide in late December or January.
And, in January, I should be hearing from a theatre company in New York City about two plays I had written ("A Prisoner" and "Act 3"). They are having a one-act festival in February, so let's see if these plays get anywhere!
I have a part in an Internet series. We will start filming that in January. Originally, I was just in one scene, but they were so impressed with my acting that they decided to pepper me around various points in the series. This company also wants to make a horror movie, and I'm definitely interested in that! I am willing to take small roles in film because this is a very new area for me; one of my acting teachers has told me that I will likely have better opportunities in film.
I do have another thought in the back of my mind. I am pondering if I am ready to direct something like "Romeo and Juliet". I imagine creating a company and finding a venue. I imagine reaching out to find a multi-ethnic cast, and being willing to cast minorities in the lead roles. My goal would be to show that this could work, that it's time for the community theatre world to stop being so ethnically restrictive. This means putting on a show of huge quality, so I can prove this point . . . the only question is, am I up for it? To be honest, I don't even know where to start!
Theatre Company G: Sometimes, a screw job is not about race!
I get plenty of e-mails from Theatre Company G. Despite being a community theatre, they apparently have some very sizeable endowments, giving them a nice venue and allowing them to offer all sorts of programs (classes, shows, and even bus trips to see Broadway shows!).
They do "combined auditions". I went to their "combined audition" for Spring 2012. They stated upfront that they welcome people of different ethnic groups. I wasn't interested in their musicals, but their dramatic shows were going to be "Toys in the Attic" and "Farragut North".
They gave me sides for "Farragut North". When they gave me the sides, they told me that I was too old to play one part, but they wanted me to read for the other. Great: I took my time and I prepared for that part.
When I went in for the audition, they asked me to read for the other part, the part they had told me I would not be reading! I did my part, I went ahead and read what they had wanted . . . but my goodness that was scummy! They had basically sabotaged my audition.
By the way, one person in the audition committee remarked about my "powerful voice". I hear that a lot, by the way. So, it came as a bit of a surprise a week later, when I received an e-mail asking if I would consider a small non-speaking role in "Toys in the Attic".
A year before, I would have accepted that, in the hopes that this could lead to more roles for me. I knew, however, that this wouldn't have happened: once I had accepted that small role, I would have been on their list of "people we can pull in for small roles". Besides, this theatre company was maybe 45 minutes away: driving that far for rehearsals for a "small non-speaking role"? No. Besides, this show would be in 2012, and I had made my decision that I wouldn't take bit parts in 2012. This was actually the first time I actually turned down a part!
I didn't hear anything else from them. I recently sent an e-mail asking what wound up happening regarding either "Toys in the Attic" or "Farragut North", but I haven't received any response. I know that many theatre companies will often not bother to send "sorry" e-mails, but I hope this bunch are better than that.
For a nice change of pace, I don't believe their actions were racially based. "Toys in the Attic", from what I understand, DOES deal with race at one point, so my brown skin is a factor. It's important to remember that I didn't read for any sides in that show, and they DID ask if I was interested. I think it was an honest mistake that they asked me to read for a different part than for what I had prepared . . . but it was still a screw job!
They do "combined auditions". I went to their "combined audition" for Spring 2012. They stated upfront that they welcome people of different ethnic groups. I wasn't interested in their musicals, but their dramatic shows were going to be "Toys in the Attic" and "Farragut North".
They gave me sides for "Farragut North". When they gave me the sides, they told me that I was too old to play one part, but they wanted me to read for the other. Great: I took my time and I prepared for that part.
When I went in for the audition, they asked me to read for the other part, the part they had told me I would not be reading! I did my part, I went ahead and read what they had wanted . . . but my goodness that was scummy! They had basically sabotaged my audition.
By the way, one person in the audition committee remarked about my "powerful voice". I hear that a lot, by the way. So, it came as a bit of a surprise a week later, when I received an e-mail asking if I would consider a small non-speaking role in "Toys in the Attic".
A year before, I would have accepted that, in the hopes that this could lead to more roles for me. I knew, however, that this wouldn't have happened: once I had accepted that small role, I would have been on their list of "people we can pull in for small roles". Besides, this theatre company was maybe 45 minutes away: driving that far for rehearsals for a "small non-speaking role"? No. Besides, this show would be in 2012, and I had made my decision that I wouldn't take bit parts in 2012. This was actually the first time I actually turned down a part!
I didn't hear anything else from them. I recently sent an e-mail asking what wound up happening regarding either "Toys in the Attic" or "Farragut North", but I haven't received any response. I know that many theatre companies will often not bother to send "sorry" e-mails, but I hope this bunch are better than that.
For a nice change of pace, I don't believe their actions were racially based. "Toys in the Attic", from what I understand, DOES deal with race at one point, so my brown skin is a factor. It's important to remember that I didn't read for any sides in that show, and they DID ask if I was interested. I think it was an honest mistake that they asked me to read for a different part than for what I had prepared . . . but it was still a screw job!
Theatre Company F
Normally, I give a theatre company two tries. With Theatre Company D, my experience was so bad that I haven't gone back, but I saw with their casting for "Beaux Stratagem" that I really should. With Theatre Company C, it was two strikes and I will no longer consider them. With Theatre Company F, I gave them three tries just to be fair: my heart really wasn't in one of the auditions, so I didn't feel I deserved the part.
One good thing about Theatre Company F is that they tend to send out sides ahead of time. I really like this approach. Overwhelmingly, auditions are with cold readings, which I don't like. How much can an audition committee really tell when a person is reading parts cold? The person hasn't rehearsed and hasn't received any direction, so what does this say? I prefer monologues: isn't it more useful to see what I can do when I have prepared for a part? Theatre Company F's approach of sending out sides is the best of both worlds. It gives me a chance to prepare and they get to see me performing parts in the actual play.
Unfortunately, they have a habit of thinking I'm female. Hey, this might have given me the chance to audition for Blanche in "Streetcar Named Desire"!
The first time I auditioned, it was a call-back. They needed to fill one more male role. At this point, I had been working with the professionals at Theatre Company E for so long that coming out to Theatre Company F was a major culture shock. As I performed the scene with one of the actresses (that had been cast for the show), I marveled at how bad they were. In truth, they weren't bad at all: they didn't have a chance to rehearse, and this wasn't Theatre Company F!
Several of us tried for a part. I think I did well, but the director didn't. After we all read the part, the director cast the part. He stated his reasons for his casting decision: the person looked the part. Oh well. This person dropped out of the show later, but I guess I wasn't next on the list either. Oh well.
Later, I heard that they were auditioning for "Streetcar Named Desire". "Streetcar" is one of my favorite plays. By this point, the constant rejections were really getting to me: I stated upfront that I wasn't going to get a part in this play because there just wasn't any part for me. I had started to go in to auditions knowing I wouldn't be cast.
After clarifying my gender, I went in to perform either as Mitch or as Steve. I wanted the part of Mitch, as he was really the only other interesting male character (Stan had already been cast). Steve was, in my eyes, a bit part -- comedy relief popping up occasionally against the intense drama that was taking place. A few weeks later, Theatre Company B was going to have auditions for "42nd Street", and I decided that if I was going to get a bit part, I would rather it be in "42nd Street", where I would be performing with my kids and with friends. The director was a lot more interested in me reading for Steve, but I didn't really prepare for that part because I didn't want it.
So, I didn't get the part. The director of the show has, since, become a friend of mine. He's very talented! My friend Tom got the part of Mitch. My feeling? If they had cast me over Tom, I would question their sanity. My friend Cathy got the part of Blanche.
And this was, by far, the absolute best show I have ever seen on stage. I actually was brought to tears. My heart raced by the end, I cringed at the thought of the nurse wrestling Blanche to the ground. I long to some day be a part of a show of this quality, but I think I was glad to be in the audience, to be able to watch it.
By the way, the guy that got the part of Steve was decent. Sure, he was completely overshadowed by the leads, but he did his part -- be an occasional distraction so the audience has time to breathe. I saw him later in the summer in a farce for Gayfest, and in that role he was terrible. Oh well. I did encounter him recently at an audition for "Macbeth". I think everyone that auditioned was offered a part, so I wonder what he will be doing.
A friend of mine had a small part in this play -- he was a mover at one point and at the end he played the man from the mental hospital that took Blanche away. There was one african american woman in the show: she played the woman selling flowers. He told me that she had remarked that theatre needs to just cut the crap and say "I'm going to cast a black person for this part". Oh yes, I do agree.
That said, I don't think I didn't get a part in "Streetcar" because of my race. I do not believe I put in 100% at the audition. So, given that, I decided to give them a third chance.
The third play, whose name escapes me, was a comedy set in a Scottish castle, or something like that. I tried to not think "I can't pull off 'Scottsman', I can't pull off 'Scottsman'." I got the sides ahead of time and I prepared. I blew away the audition. I could see that the audition committee was very impressed. And they even said so in my "sorry" e-mail. What really got me this time was that the "sorry" e-mail was sent three hours after the audition. For however good I might have been, it took them just three hours to decide they didn't want me. I was at the top of the first page of the "no" list. If I'm not going to be offered a part anyway, I would like the decision to, at least, be difficult . . . but it clearly wasn't.
So much for that theatre company. I do hope to some day work with the director of "Streetcar", but that's about all I can say.
One good thing about Theatre Company F is that they tend to send out sides ahead of time. I really like this approach. Overwhelmingly, auditions are with cold readings, which I don't like. How much can an audition committee really tell when a person is reading parts cold? The person hasn't rehearsed and hasn't received any direction, so what does this say? I prefer monologues: isn't it more useful to see what I can do when I have prepared for a part? Theatre Company F's approach of sending out sides is the best of both worlds. It gives me a chance to prepare and they get to see me performing parts in the actual play.
Unfortunately, they have a habit of thinking I'm female. Hey, this might have given me the chance to audition for Blanche in "Streetcar Named Desire"!
The first time I auditioned, it was a call-back. They needed to fill one more male role. At this point, I had been working with the professionals at Theatre Company E for so long that coming out to Theatre Company F was a major culture shock. As I performed the scene with one of the actresses (that had been cast for the show), I marveled at how bad they were. In truth, they weren't bad at all: they didn't have a chance to rehearse, and this wasn't Theatre Company F!
Several of us tried for a part. I think I did well, but the director didn't. After we all read the part, the director cast the part. He stated his reasons for his casting decision: the person looked the part. Oh well. This person dropped out of the show later, but I guess I wasn't next on the list either. Oh well.
Later, I heard that they were auditioning for "Streetcar Named Desire". "Streetcar" is one of my favorite plays. By this point, the constant rejections were really getting to me: I stated upfront that I wasn't going to get a part in this play because there just wasn't any part for me. I had started to go in to auditions knowing I wouldn't be cast.
After clarifying my gender, I went in to perform either as Mitch or as Steve. I wanted the part of Mitch, as he was really the only other interesting male character (Stan had already been cast). Steve was, in my eyes, a bit part -- comedy relief popping up occasionally against the intense drama that was taking place. A few weeks later, Theatre Company B was going to have auditions for "42nd Street", and I decided that if I was going to get a bit part, I would rather it be in "42nd Street", where I would be performing with my kids and with friends. The director was a lot more interested in me reading for Steve, but I didn't really prepare for that part because I didn't want it.
So, I didn't get the part. The director of the show has, since, become a friend of mine. He's very talented! My friend Tom got the part of Mitch. My feeling? If they had cast me over Tom, I would question their sanity. My friend Cathy got the part of Blanche.
And this was, by far, the absolute best show I have ever seen on stage. I actually was brought to tears. My heart raced by the end, I cringed at the thought of the nurse wrestling Blanche to the ground. I long to some day be a part of a show of this quality, but I think I was glad to be in the audience, to be able to watch it.
By the way, the guy that got the part of Steve was decent. Sure, he was completely overshadowed by the leads, but he did his part -- be an occasional distraction so the audience has time to breathe. I saw him later in the summer in a farce for Gayfest, and in that role he was terrible. Oh well. I did encounter him recently at an audition for "Macbeth". I think everyone that auditioned was offered a part, so I wonder what he will be doing.
A friend of mine had a small part in this play -- he was a mover at one point and at the end he played the man from the mental hospital that took Blanche away. There was one african american woman in the show: she played the woman selling flowers. He told me that she had remarked that theatre needs to just cut the crap and say "I'm going to cast a black person for this part". Oh yes, I do agree.
That said, I don't think I didn't get a part in "Streetcar" because of my race. I do not believe I put in 100% at the audition. So, given that, I decided to give them a third chance.
The third play, whose name escapes me, was a comedy set in a Scottish castle, or something like that. I tried to not think "I can't pull off 'Scottsman', I can't pull off 'Scottsman'." I got the sides ahead of time and I prepared. I blew away the audition. I could see that the audition committee was very impressed. And they even said so in my "sorry" e-mail. What really got me this time was that the "sorry" e-mail was sent three hours after the audition. For however good I might have been, it took them just three hours to decide they didn't want me. I was at the top of the first page of the "no" list. If I'm not going to be offered a part anyway, I would like the decision to, at least, be difficult . . . but it clearly wasn't.
So much for that theatre company. I do hope to some day work with the director of "Streetcar", but that's about all I can say.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Theatre Company E: When Race Helps
Theatre Company E is a big deal. First, this isn't actually "community theatre": this is professional. Second, they have an amazing history in American theatre.
After I was turned away from Theatre Company A's "As You Like It", I started poking around. A friend had mentioned Theatre Company E, so I checked their web page. Surprise: they have acting classes! I signed up, and I had a great experience. The class ended with us doing a showcase on their actual stage. One person in the class needed to drop out because of a family emergency, so I brought in my older son to fill his part.
Okay, the ball was now rolling!
That summer, Theatre Company E announced two auditions. One was for "American Tragedy", the other was for "Murder on the Nile". I was doing "Godspell" with Theatre Company B, and that conflicted with "American Tragedy". I was also going to be away during the audition for "Murder on the Nile", but they said they would give me a call when they do callbacks.
My older son auditioned for "American Tragedy". A few weeks later, we received a call: they need an extra (butler in one scene, worker in another, etc.), and they wondered if he could do it. I didn't have to ask him twice! He was definitely on-board. I, then, got a call for "Murder on the Nile": they wanted both my son and me for small parts in the beginning of the play!
I can understand the need for extras, but I didn't understand why they brought us in for "Murder on the Nile". I have my suspicions. From my participation in the class, they knew I could do the job. And . . . well . . . I have brown skin, and could pull off looking Egyptian.
If that is the case, then, for a nice change of pace, my skin color got me a part in a very prestigious theatre company! I can't complain about that!
As it is, I think Theatre Company E does keep an open mind. After "Murder on the Nile", we were asked to be in "Tiny Tim's Christmas", even though we seriously didn't look the part. Just recently, a friend of mine got a part in their "Christmas Carol" . . . she's blind! I wonder how many theatre companies would have given her a chance!
I'm becoming a bit of a fixture at Theatre Company E. I take classes there whenever I can, and I am getting a great deal out of them. I do wish I could be in more of their productions, though, but they are a repertory company so this sort of thing isn't common.
After I was turned away from Theatre Company A's "As You Like It", I started poking around. A friend had mentioned Theatre Company E, so I checked their web page. Surprise: they have acting classes! I signed up, and I had a great experience. The class ended with us doing a showcase on their actual stage. One person in the class needed to drop out because of a family emergency, so I brought in my older son to fill his part.
Okay, the ball was now rolling!
That summer, Theatre Company E announced two auditions. One was for "American Tragedy", the other was for "Murder on the Nile". I was doing "Godspell" with Theatre Company B, and that conflicted with "American Tragedy". I was also going to be away during the audition for "Murder on the Nile", but they said they would give me a call when they do callbacks.
My older son auditioned for "American Tragedy". A few weeks later, we received a call: they need an extra (butler in one scene, worker in another, etc.), and they wondered if he could do it. I didn't have to ask him twice! He was definitely on-board. I, then, got a call for "Murder on the Nile": they wanted both my son and me for small parts in the beginning of the play!
I can understand the need for extras, but I didn't understand why they brought us in for "Murder on the Nile". I have my suspicions. From my participation in the class, they knew I could do the job. And . . . well . . . I have brown skin, and could pull off looking Egyptian.
If that is the case, then, for a nice change of pace, my skin color got me a part in a very prestigious theatre company! I can't complain about that!
As it is, I think Theatre Company E does keep an open mind. After "Murder on the Nile", we were asked to be in "Tiny Tim's Christmas", even though we seriously didn't look the part. Just recently, a friend of mine got a part in their "Christmas Carol" . . . she's blind! I wonder how many theatre companies would have given her a chance!
I'm becoming a bit of a fixture at Theatre Company E. I take classes there whenever I can, and I am getting a great deal out of them. I do wish I could be in more of their productions, though, but they are a repertory company so this sort of thing isn't common.
Theatre Company D: Sometimes it's not the company, it's the director
There are times when the race of an actor matters. I previously mentioned "Hairspray". "Hairspray" deals with racial segregation. If skin color is ignored in the casting, the entire theme is lost. At the other end of the spectrum, there are many plays where skin color plays no part at all. The ethnicity of the characters isn't mentioned and the setting is fairly general. One example of this would be the play "Deathtrap".
The obstacle, in this situation, is when the people casting the play envision the character as white, and will not look past that.
This happened with Theatre Company D. I had a class on the day of auditions, so I came in early. One other person, who is white, also came early. We walked in, filled out the forms, and handed in our acting resume. The director of the play knew nothing about us -- he hadn't worked with either of us and he didn't even look at our acting resumes. He pointed to the other person and said "I want you to read for Sidney". He pointed to me and said "I want you to read for the lawyer."
I don't even remember a lawyer in the play.
A friend who is also a director said that I should have told the director that I wanted to read for Sidney. Personally, I don't see the point. He had made a determination at that point that I was not right for the part of Sidney. Keep in mind that this was just an audition: we could have both read for Sidney and it would have been fine! But he didn't say that he wanted me to read for Sidney AND the lawyer. He didn't want me to read for Sidney at all. He made up his mind, and while I think I'm "good" I don't think I'm so good that I could get a director to look past his biases.
Oh, by the way, I wasn't offered the part of the lawyer.
This was such a bad experience for me that I refused to go back to Theatre Company D for any subsequent auditions. Just recently, though, I saw photos for their latest production, "The Beaux Stratagem". I thought about going to this audition, but I saw it was set in the 17th century. If they wouldn't cast me for a modern day play, they sure as heck wouldn't cast me for something set in the 17th century!
Well . . . surprise, surprise! In the photos I saw an african american actor! He doesn't have a big part, but he's in the play and in the publicity photos!
With Theatre Company B, color blind casting is their "policy" for all of their shows. With Theatre Company C, I auditioned twice with different directors and my skin color was most certainly a heavy strike against me: whether they would admit this or not, racial bias was certainly "policy" for them. With Theatre Company D, it would appear, this sort of thing was left to the director. So . . . I'm going to have to give Theatre Company D another chance.
Of course, they did just piss me off. I showed a friend of mine a 10-minute play. She, it turned out, was on the committee evaluating plays for an evening of one-acts at Theatre Company D. She submitted my play for consideration. It wasn't chosen, which is fine. But . . . they didn't have the decency to tell me it hadn't been chosen! In fact, I haven't heard anything at all from them.
The obstacle, in this situation, is when the people casting the play envision the character as white, and will not look past that.
This happened with Theatre Company D. I had a class on the day of auditions, so I came in early. One other person, who is white, also came early. We walked in, filled out the forms, and handed in our acting resume. The director of the play knew nothing about us -- he hadn't worked with either of us and he didn't even look at our acting resumes. He pointed to the other person and said "I want you to read for Sidney". He pointed to me and said "I want you to read for the lawyer."
I don't even remember a lawyer in the play.
A friend who is also a director said that I should have told the director that I wanted to read for Sidney. Personally, I don't see the point. He had made a determination at that point that I was not right for the part of Sidney. Keep in mind that this was just an audition: we could have both read for Sidney and it would have been fine! But he didn't say that he wanted me to read for Sidney AND the lawyer. He didn't want me to read for Sidney at all. He made up his mind, and while I think I'm "good" I don't think I'm so good that I could get a director to look past his biases.
Oh, by the way, I wasn't offered the part of the lawyer.
This was such a bad experience for me that I refused to go back to Theatre Company D for any subsequent auditions. Just recently, though, I saw photos for their latest production, "The Beaux Stratagem". I thought about going to this audition, but I saw it was set in the 17th century. If they wouldn't cast me for a modern day play, they sure as heck wouldn't cast me for something set in the 17th century!
Well . . . surprise, surprise! In the photos I saw an african american actor! He doesn't have a big part, but he's in the play and in the publicity photos!
With Theatre Company B, color blind casting is their "policy" for all of their shows. With Theatre Company C, I auditioned twice with different directors and my skin color was most certainly a heavy strike against me: whether they would admit this or not, racial bias was certainly "policy" for them. With Theatre Company D, it would appear, this sort of thing was left to the director. So . . . I'm going to have to give Theatre Company D another chance.
Of course, they did just piss me off. I showed a friend of mine a 10-minute play. She, it turned out, was on the committee evaluating plays for an evening of one-acts at Theatre Company D. She submitted my play for consideration. It wasn't chosen, which is fine. But . . . they didn't have the decency to tell me it hadn't been chosen! In fact, I haven't heard anything at all from them.
Theatre Company C
Of the theatre companies I'm discussing, this is the one I most wish I could bring myself to name. Lately, I have been heavily involved in writing plays. I make no secret that I really want to write something that all the local community theatres would want to do. I would love Theatre Company C to come to me and ask if they could do one of my plays. I would love to say to them: "Sure . . . however, these lead roles are to be played by minorities . . . I will not agree if you intend on an all-white cast."
By the way, I understand that it is very rare when an author can make those sorts of demands. I understand that "Hairspray" makes an interesting demand: if a theatre company wants to put on "Hairspray", they must agree that they will not darken the skin of actors in order to play the african americans. When Theatre Company B wanted to put on "Hairspray", this meant that they needed to find african americans to play those parts.
Anyway, Theatre Company C . . .
I first encountered this bunch during auditions for "Noises Off". They explicitely wanted people that could do English accents, and during those auditions I was amazed at how many bad English accents I was hearing! I would go further: one man, who appears to be a "regular" with their company, read for an important part. I think he actually got the part, but it didn't take me long to notice that he read the part completely wrong. This was confirmed when I saw a review of their performance: the reviewer remarked that he felt as though the people putting on this show didn't get much of the humor. During the audition, I did see one man that was VERY good. His name is Tom, and I would encounter him later.
I very quickly got my "sorry" e-mail after the audition. Oh well. I left open the possibility that I sucked. It's just as well, though: if I had gotten a part, I wouldn't have auditioned for "Godspell" and I would never have met Theatre Company B.
Later that year, I was in another play and I was working with Tom. I have to admit: I've learned a LOT from him, and I'm consistently impressed by his work. Tom had only recently returned to acting, and he really enjoyed working with Theatre Company C and "Noises Off".
Then came the audition for "Enchanted April". There are maybe four men in the play. At the audition, there was only me and one other man. The other man, who, by the way, was white, was absolutely terrible. His reading was flat and he seemed to miss major parts in the dialog (like noticing that the character is getting angry). Two other people remarked that I was an order of magnitude better than him. One of those people, by the way, was a woman named Cathy. She and I were called up to do a scene together, and I think we blew away everyone else at that audition.
Both Cathy and I got the "sorry" e-mail. One day I ran in to Cathy and she asked if I knew who they cast, because she felt everyone else at that audition was terrible.
The other man, by the way, got a callback and got a part in the play. They chose the worse actor. Why? I can only assume that skin color was more important than the quality of performance. Here's the best part: they needed a couple more men for the play. They started courting Tom to see if he would take a part. In other words . . . they didn't have all the parts filled, but they rejected me anyway. In other words, they didn't even know that they could fill all of the parts, but they knew one thing: they absolutely positively didn't want me!
This wasn't a case of "we have four parts, let's fill it with the two that auditioned and then find people to fill the rest of the parts". This was "let's reject that brown guy -- not even send him a 'maybe' in case we can't fill all the parts, but tell him 'no' -- and thne hope we can fill in the rest of the parts." Community theatre is supposed to be about working with what you have, but clearly they had a difference of opinion.
By the way, a little pet peeve: the rejection e-mail was sent with the abbreviation of the theatre company in the subject line. I get tons of junk mail and when I see a minimal subject line like that, I usually assume it's something about buying medicines from another country. I replied to the e-mail pointing that out, which I do hope irritated them.
The next year, by the way, Cathy and Tom performed together. Cathy's performance was SO amazing that she has become a bit of a hot property. After that, Theatre Company C certainly welcomed her to another of their performances . . . I wonder if they remember rejecting her previously.
With "Enchanted April", I have no doubt at all that I was rejected because of my skin color. Remember that the other man was terrible, yet he was selected. I understand the resulting production was good, but apparently the sets were a bit lacking. After all, the audience can use their imagination with sets but can't be expected to handle someone with brown skin playing a white man. Further, by choosing the inferior actor, they were willing to sacrifice the quality of the show in order to hold on to their skin color bias.
I've only been to one performance of Theatre Company C. Tom was directing a version of "Vagina Monologues". I was thrilled to see a multi-ethnic cast for this show . . . but "Vagina Monologues" is a special case. I'm still on their mailing list, but I refuse to go to any of their auditions and aside from that one play I will not waste ticket money to go to one of their shows. I'm sure they don't miss me. Maybe I'll hear from them if they want to perform one of my plays in the future . . . and then I'll have a few choice words for them.
By the way, I understand that it is very rare when an author can make those sorts of demands. I understand that "Hairspray" makes an interesting demand: if a theatre company wants to put on "Hairspray", they must agree that they will not darken the skin of actors in order to play the african americans. When Theatre Company B wanted to put on "Hairspray", this meant that they needed to find african americans to play those parts.
Anyway, Theatre Company C . . .
I first encountered this bunch during auditions for "Noises Off". They explicitely wanted people that could do English accents, and during those auditions I was amazed at how many bad English accents I was hearing! I would go further: one man, who appears to be a "regular" with their company, read for an important part. I think he actually got the part, but it didn't take me long to notice that he read the part completely wrong. This was confirmed when I saw a review of their performance: the reviewer remarked that he felt as though the people putting on this show didn't get much of the humor. During the audition, I did see one man that was VERY good. His name is Tom, and I would encounter him later.
I very quickly got my "sorry" e-mail after the audition. Oh well. I left open the possibility that I sucked. It's just as well, though: if I had gotten a part, I wouldn't have auditioned for "Godspell" and I would never have met Theatre Company B.
Later that year, I was in another play and I was working with Tom. I have to admit: I've learned a LOT from him, and I'm consistently impressed by his work. Tom had only recently returned to acting, and he really enjoyed working with Theatre Company C and "Noises Off".
Then came the audition for "Enchanted April". There are maybe four men in the play. At the audition, there was only me and one other man. The other man, who, by the way, was white, was absolutely terrible. His reading was flat and he seemed to miss major parts in the dialog (like noticing that the character is getting angry). Two other people remarked that I was an order of magnitude better than him. One of those people, by the way, was a woman named Cathy. She and I were called up to do a scene together, and I think we blew away everyone else at that audition.
Both Cathy and I got the "sorry" e-mail. One day I ran in to Cathy and she asked if I knew who they cast, because she felt everyone else at that audition was terrible.
The other man, by the way, got a callback and got a part in the play. They chose the worse actor. Why? I can only assume that skin color was more important than the quality of performance. Here's the best part: they needed a couple more men for the play. They started courting Tom to see if he would take a part. In other words . . . they didn't have all the parts filled, but they rejected me anyway. In other words, they didn't even know that they could fill all of the parts, but they knew one thing: they absolutely positively didn't want me!
This wasn't a case of "we have four parts, let's fill it with the two that auditioned and then find people to fill the rest of the parts". This was "let's reject that brown guy -- not even send him a 'maybe' in case we can't fill all the parts, but tell him 'no' -- and thne hope we can fill in the rest of the parts." Community theatre is supposed to be about working with what you have, but clearly they had a difference of opinion.
By the way, a little pet peeve: the rejection e-mail was sent with the abbreviation of the theatre company in the subject line. I get tons of junk mail and when I see a minimal subject line like that, I usually assume it's something about buying medicines from another country. I replied to the e-mail pointing that out, which I do hope irritated them.
The next year, by the way, Cathy and Tom performed together. Cathy's performance was SO amazing that she has become a bit of a hot property. After that, Theatre Company C certainly welcomed her to another of their performances . . . I wonder if they remember rejecting her previously.
With "Enchanted April", I have no doubt at all that I was rejected because of my skin color. Remember that the other man was terrible, yet he was selected. I understand the resulting production was good, but apparently the sets were a bit lacking. After all, the audience can use their imagination with sets but can't be expected to handle someone with brown skin playing a white man. Further, by choosing the inferior actor, they were willing to sacrifice the quality of the show in order to hold on to their skin color bias.
I've only been to one performance of Theatre Company C. Tom was directing a version of "Vagina Monologues". I was thrilled to see a multi-ethnic cast for this show . . . but "Vagina Monologues" is a special case. I'm still on their mailing list, but I refuse to go to any of their auditions and aside from that one play I will not waste ticket money to go to one of their shows. I'm sure they don't miss me. Maybe I'll hear from them if they want to perform one of my plays in the future . . . and then I'll have a few choice words for them.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Musicals, and Theatre Company B
I don't sing. To be more accurate, my singing is rather poor. It's one of those ironies, then, that I have never been turned away when I have auditioned for a musical. This isn't all that surprising, though. For several years, I was involved with a Gilbert and Sullivan group. This group was always desperate for people, so I could always count on a part. Another thing about musicals is that there are these things called "choruses": my singing might be bad, but it's not so bad that people can hear me in the middle of a crowd of a chorus.
This leads to Theatre Company B. I have a good history with Theatre Company B, and I consider the people that run this company to be my friends. That said, Theatre Company B specializes in musicals.
I met them when I auditioned, as a lark, for "Godspell". I got a part (I later discovered that as a matter of policy, they give everyone that auditions a part). This was fun, but "Godspell" isn't much of a play. It doesn't even pretend to be. The cast consists of Jesus, the combination John the Baptist and Judas, and "everyone else". We can add drama here or there, but the only character that grows at all is Judas, and even that is underplayed. In drama class back in college, the professor would probably have labeled "Godspell" as a "pageant", instead of a play.
But it was still a great deal of fun.
I skipped the next play Theatre Company B did, which was "Hairspray". Now, I LIKE "Hairspray". It has an interesting plot and interesting characters: it holds its own as a play. I saw their performance twice. Sure, there were more than a few things that seemed a bit amateurish. Sure, they spent a ton of money getting an LED curtain (the curtain could display images that they assembled on a computer) which added absolutely nothing to the show. But, there was tons of heart in this performance, and the "fun" was contageous.
So, I auditioned for the next show, "42nd Street". Unfortunately, this show flopped. The sad thing about this is that the weeks after the show closed, people would ask me what I was up to. When I said "We just finished '42nd Street'", I heard SO MANY people remark that they loved "42nd Street", and I saw that they were disappointed that they missed our performance. I think the problem here is that Theatre Company B didn't have any publicity. No reviewer came out to see the show. There was no mentioning in any local paper. In fact, I have never seen a review of any of their shows.
Now, the good news about Theatre Company B is that they are one of the few theatre companies that actually practices color blind casting. That is why I found myself cast as Abner Dillon, a Texan millionaire. The bad news is that they specialize in musicals. Since I don't sing, I'm not likely to get a lead part. That said, most musicals don't seem to have parts that are challenging.
With "42nd Street", I saw this front and center. Theatre Company B has a team of four directors working together. The problem was that three of those four directors were in the show. Another problem was that a great deal of time was put into the dance routines -- one of the directors actually spent a month teaching the cast how to tap dance in preparation for this show. Something had to give, and something did: the acting. Several actors were slurring their lines, and no one seemed to notice. Many performances were stiff. I received almost no direction: in the whole production -- from rehearsal to the final performance -- I received a grand total of two "notes". And no, I don't think it was because I was perfect.
I consider "42nd Street" to be an example of a bad play. It might be fine as a musical, given that it's largely just a cascade of musical numbers. I remarked to the woman playing Dorothy Brock that there were only four characters in the cast that had actual personalities, and we were two of them. I was wrong: there were only two characters. Julian Marsh was a grumpy guy yelling at people, and he evolved during the course of the play into a grumpy guy yelling at people. The man playing this part did take it on himself to add some depth to this character towards the end, but between the lackluster script and the lack of direction, he was on his own. Billy existed only to do some tap numbers, and was completely forgettable. Peggy was possibly one of the worst lead characters I've ever seen. She was daffy and dumb, but could dance really well. She did absolutely nothing in the play: things seemed to happen to her, leading to her getting a part and eventually becoming the lead, but she did nothing to bring about any of this. The actors playing these parts all did as fine a job as possible, but the play itself didn't give them much to work with.
So, there I was, Abner Dillon. This character is usually played for laughs. He's rich but stupid, being used by Dorothy so that she can get him to finance a play and make her a star again. I watched the way Dorothy treated him through the first act, and I realized something: I didn't find any of this funny! There was nothing funny about a man thinking a woman loves him, only to find he's being used. There's nothing funny about a broken heart. There is a crucial scene where Dorothy is upset because she can't get ahold of the man with whom she's having an affair. She's drunk, and is rude to Abner. Abner has enough and tells her off. She splashes a drink on his face and storms away. Abner declares that she is out of the show. Julian sends two chorus girls to butter up Abner, and then sends one of the writers of the show to seduce him, in order to convince him to let the show go on. Ugh! This is meant to be funny?
I played that scene seriously. I saw Abner as not being stupid; he had suspicions as to what Dorothy was doing, and it hurt. When he finally confronted her, I had him yell (everyone on stage jumped when I did that). The rest of the cast took the cue. Instead of chorus girls buttering me up, they instead pleaded with me to not end the show. I played off them, and had Abner, despite being hurt, being unable to bring himself to put them all out of work. Instead of the writer seducing me, it became a friendly gesture: she saw I was hurt and wanted to help me feel better.
Boom! I played that scene differently than anyone had ever played it. And it worked! We managed to give the show an emotional core that it sorely lacked.
And . . . ready for it?
No one cared.
When I decided to play the scene this way, I was prepared for the directors to say "no, can we play it more traditionally?" But no one did. In fact, no one had anything to say about that scene. Despite all the preparation for the show, they somehow forgot to get me a costume. A week and a half before opening night, I saw that there was NO costume for me. I rushed out and bought costumes at my own expense. I have no idea when I will use cowboy boots again, but hey, they're there. During the run, after the final curtain call, when we would go to mingle with the audience, I saw people look at me as though they were trying to remember what part I had played.
I thought about my character. I built my character. And no one cared. All that mattered were a few more mindless musical numbers. Oh, and by the way, I was stuck with almost $200 in cowboy costumes, which amounted to $20 for each minute I was on stage.
I performed with friends of mine. I performed with my kids. And by opening night, I found that I didn't care at all either. I did my part -- I played my role and I played it well -- but when no one gives a damn about your part, how can you?
This leads to Theatre Company B. I have a good history with Theatre Company B, and I consider the people that run this company to be my friends. That said, Theatre Company B specializes in musicals.
I met them when I auditioned, as a lark, for "Godspell". I got a part (I later discovered that as a matter of policy, they give everyone that auditions a part). This was fun, but "Godspell" isn't much of a play. It doesn't even pretend to be. The cast consists of Jesus, the combination John the Baptist and Judas, and "everyone else". We can add drama here or there, but the only character that grows at all is Judas, and even that is underplayed. In drama class back in college, the professor would probably have labeled "Godspell" as a "pageant", instead of a play.
But it was still a great deal of fun.
I skipped the next play Theatre Company B did, which was "Hairspray". Now, I LIKE "Hairspray". It has an interesting plot and interesting characters: it holds its own as a play. I saw their performance twice. Sure, there were more than a few things that seemed a bit amateurish. Sure, they spent a ton of money getting an LED curtain (the curtain could display images that they assembled on a computer) which added absolutely nothing to the show. But, there was tons of heart in this performance, and the "fun" was contageous.
So, I auditioned for the next show, "42nd Street". Unfortunately, this show flopped. The sad thing about this is that the weeks after the show closed, people would ask me what I was up to. When I said "We just finished '42nd Street'", I heard SO MANY people remark that they loved "42nd Street", and I saw that they were disappointed that they missed our performance. I think the problem here is that Theatre Company B didn't have any publicity. No reviewer came out to see the show. There was no mentioning in any local paper. In fact, I have never seen a review of any of their shows.
Now, the good news about Theatre Company B is that they are one of the few theatre companies that actually practices color blind casting. That is why I found myself cast as Abner Dillon, a Texan millionaire. The bad news is that they specialize in musicals. Since I don't sing, I'm not likely to get a lead part. That said, most musicals don't seem to have parts that are challenging.
With "42nd Street", I saw this front and center. Theatre Company B has a team of four directors working together. The problem was that three of those four directors were in the show. Another problem was that a great deal of time was put into the dance routines -- one of the directors actually spent a month teaching the cast how to tap dance in preparation for this show. Something had to give, and something did: the acting. Several actors were slurring their lines, and no one seemed to notice. Many performances were stiff. I received almost no direction: in the whole production -- from rehearsal to the final performance -- I received a grand total of two "notes". And no, I don't think it was because I was perfect.
I consider "42nd Street" to be an example of a bad play. It might be fine as a musical, given that it's largely just a cascade of musical numbers. I remarked to the woman playing Dorothy Brock that there were only four characters in the cast that had actual personalities, and we were two of them. I was wrong: there were only two characters. Julian Marsh was a grumpy guy yelling at people, and he evolved during the course of the play into a grumpy guy yelling at people. The man playing this part did take it on himself to add some depth to this character towards the end, but between the lackluster script and the lack of direction, he was on his own. Billy existed only to do some tap numbers, and was completely forgettable. Peggy was possibly one of the worst lead characters I've ever seen. She was daffy and dumb, but could dance really well. She did absolutely nothing in the play: things seemed to happen to her, leading to her getting a part and eventually becoming the lead, but she did nothing to bring about any of this. The actors playing these parts all did as fine a job as possible, but the play itself didn't give them much to work with.
So, there I was, Abner Dillon. This character is usually played for laughs. He's rich but stupid, being used by Dorothy so that she can get him to finance a play and make her a star again. I watched the way Dorothy treated him through the first act, and I realized something: I didn't find any of this funny! There was nothing funny about a man thinking a woman loves him, only to find he's being used. There's nothing funny about a broken heart. There is a crucial scene where Dorothy is upset because she can't get ahold of the man with whom she's having an affair. She's drunk, and is rude to Abner. Abner has enough and tells her off. She splashes a drink on his face and storms away. Abner declares that she is out of the show. Julian sends two chorus girls to butter up Abner, and then sends one of the writers of the show to seduce him, in order to convince him to let the show go on. Ugh! This is meant to be funny?
I played that scene seriously. I saw Abner as not being stupid; he had suspicions as to what Dorothy was doing, and it hurt. When he finally confronted her, I had him yell (everyone on stage jumped when I did that). The rest of the cast took the cue. Instead of chorus girls buttering me up, they instead pleaded with me to not end the show. I played off them, and had Abner, despite being hurt, being unable to bring himself to put them all out of work. Instead of the writer seducing me, it became a friendly gesture: she saw I was hurt and wanted to help me feel better.
Boom! I played that scene differently than anyone had ever played it. And it worked! We managed to give the show an emotional core that it sorely lacked.
And . . . ready for it?
No one cared.
When I decided to play the scene this way, I was prepared for the directors to say "no, can we play it more traditionally?" But no one did. In fact, no one had anything to say about that scene. Despite all the preparation for the show, they somehow forgot to get me a costume. A week and a half before opening night, I saw that there was NO costume for me. I rushed out and bought costumes at my own expense. I have no idea when I will use cowboy boots again, but hey, they're there. During the run, after the final curtain call, when we would go to mingle with the audience, I saw people look at me as though they were trying to remember what part I had played.
I thought about my character. I built my character. And no one cared. All that mattered were a few more mindless musical numbers. Oh, and by the way, I was stuck with almost $200 in cowboy costumes, which amounted to $20 for each minute I was on stage.
I performed with friends of mine. I performed with my kids. And by opening night, I found that I didn't care at all either. I did my part -- I played my role and I played it well -- but when no one gives a damn about your part, how can you?
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Theatre Company A
In interest of "being nice", I won't actually mention the names of theatre companies or directors.
"Theatre Company A" is a theatre company that specializes in Shakespeare, and puts on one show every summer. I encountered them when my kids were involved with a Gilbert and Sullivan play, as this group uses the same venue for their rehearsals.
This was the year I had decided that I wanted to do something more than narrate during a Christmas show. This Shakespeare group seemed a perfect fit. Their audition was for "As You Like It".
I went to the audition early. They had some sides sitting around. A monologue was optional. I had a monologue in mind, but I didn't feel confident that I had it memorized. I committed that cardinal error: I went in to do the monologue holding a piece of paper.
After the monologue, I saw more people had arrived. Very few people went into the back to do monologues. Rather, they took the sides and waited to be called up to do the small scenes. This is where things got interesting. Every single other person that auditioned was asked to go up at least twice. Some were even called up three times. I was only asked to go up once.
Being asked to go up once means, in this situation, they had already made up their mind about me. A few days later, I got a call saying that I didn't get a part. In other words, they had already decided they didn't want me for the part, and they called me up that one time just as a courtesy. In what I would later see is extremely rare, the woman on the phone told me that the fact that I didn't have my monologue memorized really cost me during the audition.
I'm sure it did. Maybe it cost me so much that they decided flat-out that they didn't want me in the play. Maybe they saw me holding that piece of paper (by the way, I did have the monologue memorized; I kept the piece of paper because I didn't feel secure about that fact), and decided "no, absolutely not". Did I remember to mention that a monologue was optional and that most of the people didn't do a monologue at all? If what the woman was saying was true, I would have had a better shot with this play if I didn't do a monologue at all. That is . . . interesting.
Or is it that my skin is brown? They had a good turnout, and thus could stage the show without having to explain an out-of-place brown person? At the time, this thought never occurred to me. And maybe it isn't fair to theorize this.
In any case, this past spring someone asked me if I was going to be auditioning for Theatre Company A again, for "The Tempest". My answer: no. I'm sure they don't mind.
"Theatre Company A" is a theatre company that specializes in Shakespeare, and puts on one show every summer. I encountered them when my kids were involved with a Gilbert and Sullivan play, as this group uses the same venue for their rehearsals.
This was the year I had decided that I wanted to do something more than narrate during a Christmas show. This Shakespeare group seemed a perfect fit. Their audition was for "As You Like It".
I went to the audition early. They had some sides sitting around. A monologue was optional. I had a monologue in mind, but I didn't feel confident that I had it memorized. I committed that cardinal error: I went in to do the monologue holding a piece of paper.
After the monologue, I saw more people had arrived. Very few people went into the back to do monologues. Rather, they took the sides and waited to be called up to do the small scenes. This is where things got interesting. Every single other person that auditioned was asked to go up at least twice. Some were even called up three times. I was only asked to go up once.
Being asked to go up once means, in this situation, they had already made up their mind about me. A few days later, I got a call saying that I didn't get a part. In other words, they had already decided they didn't want me for the part, and they called me up that one time just as a courtesy. In what I would later see is extremely rare, the woman on the phone told me that the fact that I didn't have my monologue memorized really cost me during the audition.
I'm sure it did. Maybe it cost me so much that they decided flat-out that they didn't want me in the play. Maybe they saw me holding that piece of paper (by the way, I did have the monologue memorized; I kept the piece of paper because I didn't feel secure about that fact), and decided "no, absolutely not". Did I remember to mention that a monologue was optional and that most of the people didn't do a monologue at all? If what the woman was saying was true, I would have had a better shot with this play if I didn't do a monologue at all. That is . . . interesting.
Or is it that my skin is brown? They had a good turnout, and thus could stage the show without having to explain an out-of-place brown person? At the time, this thought never occurred to me. And maybe it isn't fair to theorize this.
In any case, this past spring someone asked me if I was going to be auditioning for Theatre Company A again, for "The Tempest". My answer: no. I'm sure they don't mind.
Another Step In A Journey
I've always loved theatre. I've always loved putting on a show. When I was young, when I saw my uncle's old movie camera, I dreamed of making a movie. I loved standing on a stage. I loved the feeling of a spotlight on me.
I became a software developer by writing games. Even then, I was essentially putting on a show!
I acted a bit in school. Nothing earth-shaking, and usually the result of a friend needing someone to play a part in some-play-or-another. One day, I stopped. The problem was that there were very few roles for me. It was one thing when I was busy with something or another (usually my endless hunt for a girlfriend) and a friend asked me. It was another thing when I wanted to actually try out for a role.
The problem is that I look very ethnic. I am an Asian Indian. My hair is black and I usually keep it long. My skin is very brown. I guess if I grew a mustache I could pass for hispanic, but even then . . . how many roles are out there?
I took a little time off from theatre. My "little time", I mean twenty years or so. I got married, worked on my career, and raised two kids. My kids got started in theatre, and both love it.
One day, we got involved with a Unitarian Universalist church and I saw that they were holding auditions for their Christmas play. The kids were interested, so we went to auditions. I figured, having nothing better to do, I would audition as well. The play was "A Gilbert and Sullivan Christmas Carol", and I got the part of the narrator: they liked my speaking voice, it would seem.
I played that part for three years. This theatre company decided to take a break from this play and did a version of "Gift of the Magi". I was their narrator for that for the next two years. I was called the best narrator this group had ever had.
One day, thinking about how much I enjoyed theatre, I would start auditioning for more plays. That started my obsession!
This hasn't been an easy process. I still have the same problems finding roles that I had in college, when I gave up on theatre. Even when I am cast, I am rarely put in challenging or interesting roles. It has become clear to me that theatre is very much still a "white person's world".
This leads me to this blog. I feel as though I need to document my experiences the past two years, and what I might experience this next year. Truth be told, I am seriously considering giving up theatre altogether. Outside of theatre, I rarely find myself looking at my skin color as a negative, as something that is impeding me.
Before anyone says it, I have heard people say that this is now changing. I heard that same line 26 years ago. Sorry, folks, it's not changing. I hear about "color blind casting", but I can count on one hand the number of community theatre companies that actually do that (and two of those groups are Gilbert and Sullivan groups, which seems to by definition mean they are desperate for people). I find it ironic that community theatre groups will think nothing of using a few boxes and saying "that's a sofa", but absolutely can't stand the thought of a brown person playing a role meant for a white actor!
Around the same time that I am writing this blog entry, I saw some articles regarding the play "Motherf*cker With A Hat". The play ran on Broadway and had several Tony award nominations. It closed on Broadway and then opened in Connecticut. The author of the play was shocked to see how it was cast. The lead roles were for hispanic actors. In the casting call, there was no mentioning that these were hispanic actors. The director, apparently, had already chosen two white people for the role, and didn't even audition any hispanics. Here, it wasn't a case of an ethnic actor being turned away from a role because the director wanted a white actor for that role . . . this was a case of the role being written for ethnic actors, and the role STILL going to white actors.
So, I hope this blog won't be an endless series of articles where I rant about the unfairness of the "system". Maybe I'll find a whole new world of theatre this next year, and I'll be writing about that. More than likely, I'll just be ranting.
I became a software developer by writing games. Even then, I was essentially putting on a show!
I acted a bit in school. Nothing earth-shaking, and usually the result of a friend needing someone to play a part in some-play-or-another. One day, I stopped. The problem was that there were very few roles for me. It was one thing when I was busy with something or another (usually my endless hunt for a girlfriend) and a friend asked me. It was another thing when I wanted to actually try out for a role.
The problem is that I look very ethnic. I am an Asian Indian. My hair is black and I usually keep it long. My skin is very brown. I guess if I grew a mustache I could pass for hispanic, but even then . . . how many roles are out there?
I took a little time off from theatre. My "little time", I mean twenty years or so. I got married, worked on my career, and raised two kids. My kids got started in theatre, and both love it.
One day, we got involved with a Unitarian Universalist church and I saw that they were holding auditions for their Christmas play. The kids were interested, so we went to auditions. I figured, having nothing better to do, I would audition as well. The play was "A Gilbert and Sullivan Christmas Carol", and I got the part of the narrator: they liked my speaking voice, it would seem.
I played that part for three years. This theatre company decided to take a break from this play and did a version of "Gift of the Magi". I was their narrator for that for the next two years. I was called the best narrator this group had ever had.
One day, thinking about how much I enjoyed theatre, I would start auditioning for more plays. That started my obsession!
This hasn't been an easy process. I still have the same problems finding roles that I had in college, when I gave up on theatre. Even when I am cast, I am rarely put in challenging or interesting roles. It has become clear to me that theatre is very much still a "white person's world".
This leads me to this blog. I feel as though I need to document my experiences the past two years, and what I might experience this next year. Truth be told, I am seriously considering giving up theatre altogether. Outside of theatre, I rarely find myself looking at my skin color as a negative, as something that is impeding me.
Before anyone says it, I have heard people say that this is now changing. I heard that same line 26 years ago. Sorry, folks, it's not changing. I hear about "color blind casting", but I can count on one hand the number of community theatre companies that actually do that (and two of those groups are Gilbert and Sullivan groups, which seems to by definition mean they are desperate for people). I find it ironic that community theatre groups will think nothing of using a few boxes and saying "that's a sofa", but absolutely can't stand the thought of a brown person playing a role meant for a white actor!
Around the same time that I am writing this blog entry, I saw some articles regarding the play "Motherf*cker With A Hat". The play ran on Broadway and had several Tony award nominations. It closed on Broadway and then opened in Connecticut. The author of the play was shocked to see how it was cast. The lead roles were for hispanic actors. In the casting call, there was no mentioning that these were hispanic actors. The director, apparently, had already chosen two white people for the role, and didn't even audition any hispanics. Here, it wasn't a case of an ethnic actor being turned away from a role because the director wanted a white actor for that role . . . this was a case of the role being written for ethnic actors, and the role STILL going to white actors.
So, I hope this blog won't be an endless series of articles where I rant about the unfairness of the "system". Maybe I'll find a whole new world of theatre this next year, and I'll be writing about that. More than likely, I'll just be ranting.
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