A high school student arrived for the audition and we began talking about the company. She had auditioned before and knew who the director was, a guy named David Hammond. The name sounded familiar and she said he was this internationally acclaimed Shakespearean director. And that's probably where I heard the name. He's taught at Juilliard and Yale, among other places. Done work, it appears, all over the country and beyond. Finding this out just a few minutes before my audition--while I was still memorizing my piece, no less--wasn't comforting in the least.

But he seemed like a nice enough guy. It was just the two of us, Mr. Hammond and me, in the room. He sat behind a table and watched me as I first did my Shakespeare monologue and then my McNally.

I paused a lot. A lot. I just didn't know the piece well enough not to. I felt so helpless during some of the pauses that I didn't see any reason to keep going. I thought about just stopping and apologizing for wasting his time. But I didn't. I kept going and finished the piece, probably going way over my four minutes of alotted time. Felt like an asshole wasting his professional time.

Then we talked and he said he liked my audition, which surprised me, like I was getting away with something--that I could actually fool the great David Hammond with my hack work. He told me about the group. It's a school-based company, which uses Equity and non-Equity paid professionals to work with graduate students (I guess the students understudy and play some of the roles, with professionals taking the leads). They audition once per year, then they choose the shows they're going to do, and then they call up actors as needed.

We talked for a bit and then he started heavily pitching the idea of his graduate school program. I was the right age, he said, and I had a really good audition. I wondered if this was a continuation of my small pond, big fish deal, where the graduate school program has not enough men. I later looked up the graduate program and found out it was pretty incredible. I guess it's a three year program and by the time you graduate you have enough professional experience that you'll have your Equity card. Unbelievable!

Still it makes me uncomfortable. I got out of theatre because I wanted it to be a hobby and instead it was a timesuck. I start auditioning again after all this time and on the first day I'm being encouraged to commit to a three-year rigorous theatre program? Maybe this isn't something you can do in moderation.

Filed under Acting, Carrboro Area, Journal, Vanity Smurf

Comments: Discuss this entry at LiveJournal