No rest for the wicked

A few years ago, when I was just starting out, I was working on Anything Goes for one of the bigger theaters in town.  They got Sandy Duncan to play Reno, and most of the dancers were hired out of New York.  So this was a big deal for me.  The rehearsal room that the chorus was in most of the day had huge picture windows that overlooked the sidewalk in front of the building.  And throughout the rehearsal period, we’d see the leads head out to the sidewalk on their breaks.  I started to notice that one of the leads would consistently go out on break and spend most of his break working on his lines.  Through the window he looked like the love child of a silent movie actor and a crazy guy talking to himself.

“This guy works hard.”  I remember thinking.

I couldn’t help but recall this moment when one of the guys in the cast said, “Hey guys.  We’re on break.  I think we should take our break when they give it to us cuz we’re gonna work all this stuff later.”

See, a few of us had gotten into the habit of running our choreography during our breaks.  The director and choreographer know that they’re not supposed to give us notes, etc. while we’re on our break, but we took it upon ourselves to work nonetheless.  I, for one, don’t pick up choreography as quickly as some of the others so I could use the extra time rather than sitting around doing nothing.  I think the show will be better off in the end.

After all these years, I realize now that that actor has totally shaped the way I approach my work.  There’ll always be time to shut down the engines and put it in neutral.  But you gotta know when to keep your foot on the gas, too.  I guess it helps that that actor from all those years ago is directing the show I’m in now.  Having a constant reminder around can’t hurt.

First Day of Rehearsal

Bring it on, director.  That’s what I say on the first day of rehearsal.  BRING. IT. ON.

Bring your designers and their… designs.  Bring on the “vision” for the show.  Bring it.  That set designer better have an awesome model for us to huddle around.  Will there be little cut outs of the actors or won’t there be?  Hmm?  I wanna hear the sound and lights people use terms I don’t even know.  This is where it gets real.  Cuz people have already begun working on it.  There’s no turning back now.  Don’t let the first day of rehearsal fool you.  It’s not the beginning.  It’s the home stretch.

All the other people have done most of their work.  And that’s when we come in.  I’ve done a handful of my work, too.  Trying to get off book (lines memorized) and be really familiar with all my harmonies.  Hearing the director’s vision on the first day is like a mission statement.  It’s like Michaelangelo taking the first few whacks with his chisel.  That’s when we get to bring our stuff to the table and see how our characters, and the work we’ve done thus far, intersect with that vision.

All right… this is a musical.  I’ve done musicals before, but for the most part I’ve been in the chorus.  I consider myself and actor first, then singer, then dancer.  And here I am needing to be a Triple Threat.  So this first day of rehearsal is not only all the fun stuff, but it’s one of those Go Big or Go Home situations.  The reality is that everybody has their strengths and what they may lack in talent or technique, they make up for with hard work.  Good to keep that in mind.

So bring on the first day.

What better place to start than The End?

I didn’t get Romeo.  I figure I got a couple more years to play him, so this isn’t the last he’s heard of me.

I decided to start this blog with the word “No” because this is probably the most common thing we hear as actors.  How we handle the rejection is an entirely different story.

When I got the call to audition, I didn’t realize it was for Romeo.  I figured they were looking for a Samson or Gregory… somebody on the servant level–the parts they hadn’t gotten around to yet.  But when they handed me sides for Romeo, I was off my ass.  First audition was great.  I felt like I had some good moments, made some strong choices.  Then the callback.  Here’s where it all started to unravel:  I started to really want it.  Throughout my career, this has been my Achilles Heel.  Something happens to me when I really want a job, and I don’t even know what it is.  I feel like I start operating from a desperate place, a place that is apologetic and is constantly checking in to see if they like what I’m doing.

So now all I can tell myself is that it wasn’t the right time.  There will be other productions of Romeo and Juliet.  When I’m ready it’ll be time.  Now’s the time to work so that when the opportunity presents itself they would be crazy not to cast me.  I can also tell myself that they’re crazy for not hiring me now.  I know I’d be good.  It just wasn’t my time.