In person

Oh I love an audition in person. Too long. Too too long.

I woke up in the morning, washed and then warmed up my voice. Then I played the same song about a hundred times. My downstairs neighbour banged on the floor at one point. Must’ve been bored to tears.

A bit of sirening and then into rest an hour before deadline. No coffee. Lots of water. And we’re off.

Shall I wear semi-costume? No. I brought a tailcoat in a bag. But it stayed there. How to look like the relaxed pro I am? Just show up in happy clothes. I did so. Lou’s cravat. My trackiebums from Camino. Linen shirt. Brashers.

Friendly casting assistant brings me up to the room. Four flights of stairs. Body. Then in. Boots off. It’s a dance studio. Maybe I’ll have to dance.

Chitchat and am I relaxed? Perhaps. But when I start the song my legs are tickertickerticker. Thankfully my voice has shown up, but I’m acting to nobody in a huge room with tricky legs and a very new learn. Helpful reading from a fun team though. I push through and thankfully they are interested enough to redirect me. That’s what I’m always hoping for. Surprisingly few directors do it. This one did and it changed my offering. My second sing through and the nerves have gone because now I’m curious and I’m involved in a creative process with the guys on the other side of the desk. This is cracking stuff. It could fall my way. A sliding door.

In twenty five years I’ve never auditioned for a theatre you’ve heard of.

Until now. And it was a good audition.

God love that casting director for breaking that sad trend. I met her once, socially, about a decade ago. At the time, with my usual balls out love for the work, I probably made myself look gauche. I love what I set out to do and always just want to be able to … do it. A childhood of privilege has given way to an adulthood of weird graft. But I’ve never stopped working at it. This would be glorious. But I know how painful it is to hope. I’ve already said more than I should.

Riding lessons in the black mountains have been very forthcoming though. This summer is gonna carry shift.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: