Audition Notes

I sit in the hall, waiting for my time slot. Actors are all around me. Some are just chatting. Some are looking over scripts. Some are vocalizing. One guy paces on his cell phone, and I hear him say the words “Superdome” and “so where are you now? You okay?” It is a cornucopia of random sound. You get used to it. You get used to doing what you have to do, relax and focus, in the middle of all of that unfocused noise. I know now that if I am in the middle of rush hour at Grand Central, or a traffic jam going into the Lincoln Tunnel, or a holiday rush at Macy’s … that if I have to clear my mind, “shake off the street” (as one of my acting teachers always used to say), and focus on the task at hand … I will be able to do so. And it is, indeed, like riding a bike. It doesn’t matter how many years has gone by … the second you get back up on the bike, your body remembers. Oh yes, I know what to do now. That is good training. It has nothing to do with talent. You need to practice to be able to relax like that. To relax at will. It’s like a surgeon, maybe … they have to ignore stress to such a degree that they can perform extremely intricate maneuvers, under extraordinary circumstances. Now this is just acting, but the concentration-task is similar. You must be able to tune out all the white noise, you must be able to tune out (or put to use) your own stress and anxiety – turn it into something constructive and not destructive – and you must be able to rely on your own powers of concentration and be able to say to yourself: “Okay. That conversation over there, that loud loud giggly conversation, and that guy right there, pacing around talking about the Superdome, does not exist right now. All that exists is what I need to do in the next 10 minutes.” Concentration and relaxation – the two keys to acting. They’re muscles. Without those two things, ya got nothing. Talent is great. You need talent. And talent will take you 75% there. But you need that other 25%. You need need need that other 25%.

I tune out the white noise. Eyes closed. Deep slow breaths. And literally – the entire world dissolves away. The only thing that remains is the piece of paper in front of me, with the words I have to say during my time slot. That’s it. That is all that is in my brain.

At one point, I hear, from the audition room, screaming and wailing. Like a banshee during a voodoo ceremony. It’s one of the women who is up for my part. Yeah. It’s my part. Even though I haven’t gotten it yet. So I heard her. And she was literally screaming like a wounded animal, screaming some of the lines on the piece of paper that was sitting on my lap, the lines I am getting ready to say during my time slot. I recognize the lines. They’re my lines, being screamed by her from behind a closed door.

Only I am not planning on screaming like a voodoo banshee when it’s my turn.

I have worked on the piece. I have worked on it all weekend. And wailing like a voodoo banshee was not on the program.

Suddenly, cold self-doubt floods my entire being, ripping me out of my concentration, ripping me out of my Zen deep breathing. I think: “Have I completely misread this script? Should I scream and wail?”

Funny – how quickly confidence dissipates. With the shriek of a random banshee, all your work flies out the window. Suddenly: voodoo banshee knows best. Voodoo banshee has an “in” you don’t have. You MUST have mis-read the script. It’s YOU that’s the problem. You start to second-guess your choices, you start to think (even though you KNOW it’s not true): “Louder is better.” You start to wonder if you’re on the right track with the script, you start to wonder if it’s “your” part after all …

At the same time that the icy self-doubt takes over … the brain then counter-acts. (Again – this only can happen with practice.) The brain leapt in immediately, hushing the self-doubt voice. The brain raced over and said, “Okay, okay, ignore voodoo banshee. Ignore her. Just keep doing your work. You have to do what YOU’RE going to do. You can’t worry about what everybody else is doing in there.”

It requires a sense of ownership.

The script is mine. I must feel that I own it enough that I can walk into that audition room and just GO, with complete confidence. I OWN it. I am not BORROWING it. It is already MINE. Banshee or no banshee.

The audition experience: those hallways, the lines of chairs, the bottled water lying around, the random noise, the rumpled pages of scripts, the muttered lines, and then … the sounds of screaming and “acting” from the audition room.

As I am going through all of this (relaxing, concentrating, and then getting distracted by banshee, and then having brain talk me out of self-doubt) … I am watching myself go through it. I can’t even explain it. I am in the moment, yet I am above it, too. I am completely alive and awake, but I am also analyzing everything, analyzing my relaxation, going through my body, checklist: “Neck? Check. Ankles? Check”, and saying to myself things like: “Okay, you’re getting stressed. Stop thinking. Close eyes. Breathe.” Giving myself commands.

And yet still, the entire thing is about one thing only:

The 3 pages of the script in my hand. And what was I going to do with those 3 pages.

I have worked on it. I understand it. I have asked my questions. I have provided answers for myself. I made choices. But I also have kept it loose. Not too planned.

Two or three or four threads of experience surge through me at the same time. Lines of the script … breathing … tuning out noise … battling self-doubt due to banshee … back to my breathing … oops, here comes self-doubt again … shoo, shoo!! … back to the script … back to the script … listen to the screaming of the banshee! … Nope, tune her out, tune her out, back to the script … breathe …

The door opens and I hear my name called.

The moment is now. I stand up and walk inside.

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19 Responses to Audition Notes

  1. Lisa says:

    That was beautiful. And Exhibit A why I can’t act. I can’t “empty” myself to let the character in — I’m always thinking too much, always too self-conscious.

    I am completely FASCINATED, watching bloopers and outtakes of TV shows and movies, with how different actors LOOK when they’re not in character, how their entire face changes, and their body.

    For example, in the clip show that Seinfeld did for their finale, there’s a scene where Jerry Stiller has to say, “There’s not a condo left in all of Del Boca Vista?!” and he totally screws it up — several times — and the more he screws it up, the more the actors around him laugh and break character.

    The next time it’s on, watch Estelle Harris. When she’s “Mrs. Constanza”, she’s prim, almost too tightly wound, but then Jerry Stiller screws it up (again) and she laughs. She’s no longer Mrs. Constanza, she’s Estelle and I swear, she looks ten years younger. Her whole BEING changed with that laugh.

    I’m amazed by it. And so admire the people that can pull it off.

  2. Iain says:

    Great post. I love these lines:
    The script is mine. I must feel that I own it enough that I can walk into that audition room and just GO, with complete confidence. I OWN it. I am not BORROWING it. It is already MINE. Banshee or no banshee.

  3. red says:

    Lisa – I so love Bloopers shows and outtakes for that very reason. It just shows that the whole thing is basically a job – and some people happen to have a gift for the job.

    So funny – have you seen Liar Liar? Those have to be the best out-takes I have ever seen in my life.

  4. red says:

    And I swear: there is a shrieking voodoo banshee at every audition I have been to in my life. I wonder if it’s the same woman.

  5. JFH says:

    AND??? You’re going to leave us hanging? While a brilliant writing technique, I hate not knowing.

    (Umm, am I showing my ignorance of how these things work? Do you find out right away that you don’t get the part, does it takes a couple of days (a week?) to find out you’ve got a “call back”? Help those of us ignorant of the process out here!)

  6. red says:

    jfh – you’re right on track. it usually takes a couple days to find out about the “callback”. But in this case there might not be a “callback”. And sometimes they let you know if you haven’t gotten it – they give you a courtesy call so you can move on with your life – and sometimes (especially if it’s a huge audition, or a commercial audition) – they will only call you if you HAVE gotten it.

  7. Now imagine if you were on before banshee-babe. She would be entirely panicked about why you were not schreeching!

    “It’s so quiet in there — doesn’t she get the hollowing? Or did I miss something?”

    Was that one particular audtion or more of an amalgam?

  8. peteb says:

    It requires a sense of ownership.

    While I wouldn’t claim anywhere near the same public exposure when it comes to the actual creative process, Sheila.. that’s as great a description as I’ve read of what I think is the most effective approach – being more in control than letting go.

  9. Alex says:

    Oh fer the love of CHRIST!!

    WHAT HAPPENED?????????????!!!!

  10. red says:

    peteb –

    Robert DeNiro talks about why he does so much research for his parts (well, not recently – ahem – but when he was younger.) And he said it’s because he feels like it gives him “permission” to play the part. He needs to earn the right to play a cop, or a doctor, or a murderer – whatever. It takes work to get permission. It’s not an easy thing. Once you have “permission” – then you are free to just play.

  11. red says:

    “dave” – you’re right. Banshee-chick might have had her own existential crisis hearing NOTHING while I was in the room.

    See? It’s universal.

    This is an amalgam of many auditions – but I wrote about it because of the audition I had yesterday.

  12. Mr. Lion says:

    Well, you’ve succeeded in capturing the torment that is the audition experience. Shudder.

    The part that really sucks is that it never, ever gets easier, no matter how good you are. Oh, you learn the tricks and methods with which to look like you actually know what you’re doing, but the last one always freaks you out as much as the first one did.

    Stupid auditions.

  13. I’m Nervous

    Just from reading this. I haven’t auditioned for anything since high school, but still…{insert shudder of horror here}. Acting class was much easier. They just assigned stuff to you. It was easier that way. Although, it did bite when your…

  14. peteb says:

    Admittedly it’s a slightly different emphasis, Sheila.. but arguably part of a process of taking “control” of the part. Something Bob could have done with a bit more of in recent times.

  15. well good luck to you Red, we’ll be anxious to here the results!

  16. DBW says:

    Hope you got it, Sheila. As for outtakes, I always liked the ones at the end of Being There. Some complained that they undermined Peter Sellers’ performance by breaking the audiences “covenant” with the character Chance the gardener, but I thought it showed how much talent was involved in a seemingly “quiet” performance.

  17. Kate says:

    Ok, what audition and what for?

    Way to go, Sheila.

  18. Chai-rista says:

    Love your description of calming yourself after hearing Banshee. I can imagine sitting there and thinking, “OK – even if Banshee was the way to go, she already took it so I’ll have to stick to doing it the way I planned.”

    One reason I love coming by here, your writing puts me right in that moment and I start thinking as if I was really there too!

  19. Bill McCabe says:

    I know I’m late with this, but I hope you get a call back.

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