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Own Your Audition
by Steve Anderson


(c) 2003-2005, Steve Anderson, www.SGAcreative.com
Originally published on the now-defunct www.ThemeStream.com.
 
You slink into the theatre as though you’re going to your own execution.

A panel of strangers glances at you and then turns back to their paperwork, leaving you to stand staring at them and trying to keep your hands from clenching at your sides.  

"Any time you’re ready," one of them says, and you realize you’ve forgotten your first line.  It comes back to you a second later, but that one moment of terror has done its work: you’re off-kilter, self-conscious, and terrified, and you race into your monologue much too fast.  

You realize what’s happening almost immediately, but that only makes you more self-conscious, which makes you more nervous, which makes you go even faster.  By the time you finish and escape the room, you don’t need them to tell you; you know you haven’t made it.

That was me a couple of years ago.

I was trying to get into a regional repertory company I admired.  I’d been acting in small productions for ten years, but I'd never learned the fine art of auditioning--I didn't even know how to learn it, or even that it was an art at all.  So when it came time to cast a new show, I’d come across as a rank amateur scared out of my wits.  Is it any wonder I usually wound up with bit parts, and never wound up with a lead in anything more impressive than the occasional one-act?

I wanted to break with that trend and get into the repertory company when I auditioned for them again, so a few months before their auditions rolled around, I started asking questions.  I talked to amateur and professional actors; I talked to a drama coach who had interviewed professional casting directors trying to get the very same answers for himself; I even went out to a nearby acting school for a special seminar on auditioning technique.

Myth #1: I’m Not Good Enough.  The first and most surprising thing I learned was that most directors holding auditions are not—repeat, not—primarily looking for talent.  In academic and community theatre, directors know they’ll have to teach at least some of their actors from scratch, and in professional theatre, competent agents with an eye out for their own reputations don’t send actors to audition for work they’re not qualified for.  If you’re auditioning, you’re good enough to be there.

Myth #2: Go For the "Look."  Some directors will go into auditions with a mental image of who they want in certain roles: a 40-year-old with a beard, an old lady with glasses and a limp, a Bruce Willis lookalike, a girl with braces, etc., etc., etc.  But at one time or another, every one of these directors has ended up discarding their preconceptions in favor of a flesh-and-blood actor who made them see the role differently.  In fact, it’s often more productive to stand out from the crowd and try to inspire the directors to change their minds than to go to great lengths to make yourself indistinguishable from everyone else auditioning for the part.  This is particularly true in academic and community theatre, where you will usually be auditioning for a show, not a part--trying to look like what you can guess of the director’s image for one character will only guarantee that you won’t be seriously considered for any other role.

What They Do Want.  So if your top concern shouldn’t be talent or "the look," what should it be?  What do directors without preconceptions most want in an actor?  Simple.  They want someone they can stand working with for weeks, even months, at a time.  If you slink in the door, they see months of handholding ahead.  If you stalk in, they see months of headaches coping with your arrogance.  

So what can you do?  Walk in with a confident but easy smile and with your eyes open fully, the way they are when you greet an old, close friend.  Directors won’t see the mirror you had to practice that look in front of at home or the hour you spent calming yourself in the lobby.  All they'll see is a confident, professional, friendly actor who just might be fun and easy to work with.

Now, give them a close-up.  Shake hands with the director or, if there’s a panel, with each member of the panel, greeting them individually with a friendly smile and a few words: "Hi, I’m Steve Anderson, nice to meet you.  Hi, Tom, good to see you again.  Hi, I'm Steve Anderson, thanks for seeing me today."  Be sure to tell anyone you don’t know your name, and be sure to thank them for seeing you.  You're planting your name in their minds, of course, but you're also making the director and the staff feel appreciated without stooping to ego-stroking.  You're off to a good start.


After you’ve introduced yourself, ask the director or the panel, "How are you [all] today?"  They’ll probably answer, and you can respond with a sentence or two; don’t get carried away, but do establish, for yourself as much as for them, that you’re comfortable with each other.  (For instance, "How are you all today?"  "Tired.  We’ve seen hundreds of people already."  "Well, that’s all right; you’re tired in here, we’re nervous out there, all’s right with the world.")  

If you’ve handled these first few moments well, the director or the members of the panel are already saying to themselves, "This is someone I can work with.  Oh, I hope she’s good."  You’re halfway to success already.

"Where Should I Stand?"  Once you’ve greeted the director or the panel and established a quick rapport, the next words out of your mouth should be, "Where would you like me to stand?"  

There are three good reasons for asking this question and listening to the answer.  First, sometimes it actually matters.  Auditions are often held without full stage lighting; if you’re lost in the shadows between lighted areas, you won’t be seen and your hard work will be for nothing.  

Second, asking where to stand and then standing where you’re told demonstrates that you’re willing to take direction, and the one thing better than an actor a director can work with is an actor willing to work with the director.  

And third, you’ve already taken the initiative by shaking hands, saying hello, and making yourself likeable; you’re confident and in control, and you have a better chance of holding onto that feeling if you don’t give the director an excuse to interrupt you and tell you to move two feet to your right.

Waiting.  If you’ve filled out an information sheet or turned in a resume, the director may want to take a moment to look it over.  If there’s a panel, someone will inevitably still be scribbling notes about the last actor they saw.  Either way, you’ll often have to wait a minute or two before beginning.  Nothing will erode confidence faster than staring into space—or worse, staring at the upturned faces of the rest of the panel.  Make a choice.  Count the rows of seats in the audience.  Count the stagelights above you.  Pay close, serious attention to something, anything, no matter how inane.  And remember to smile when the director or the panel is ready to watch and you hear those blessed words, "Any time you’re ready."  You are ready.

Do It.  You aren’t here to impress anyone.  You aren’t here to prove yourself.  You aren’t here to show off.  You have a personal connection with your audience, and they want you to succeed as much as you do.  

So slow down, stay focused, find the emotional truth behind the words, and do everything else you’d do if this were a performance, because it is.  Whether you’ll be asked to perform in the full-blown production depends on a thousand issues completely out of your hands; it’s not your concern.  Your only concern right now is to perform the lines the best way you can, to enjoy performing them, and to build on your personal connection with your audience to make sure they enjoy your performance, as well.  

You can make eye contact if you like and if your audience seems to respond well to it; if not, or if they’re busily scribbling notes and not seeming to pay attention, just look a few inches over their heads like you might for any other performance.  

If you do all that, the director or the members of the panel will come out of your audition saying, "Friendly, willing to take direction, a performer—now that’s an actor."  Whether those thousand other issues are in your favor or not, whether you find yourself cast or not, your audition will have been a success.

And as for me?  I auditioned for that repertory company again a year later, and even though I only remembered half of the principles I’ve outlined, I was welcomed with open arms.

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