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 <\/i>to be able to relax like that. To relax at will<\/i>. 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%.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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 <\/i>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.<\/p>\n
Only I am not planning on screaming like a voodoo banshee when it’s my turn.<\/p>\n
I have worked on the piece. I have worked on it all weekend. And wailing like a voodoo banshee was not on the program.<\/p>\n
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>I scream and wail?”<\/p>\n
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 …<\/p>\n
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.”<\/p>\n
It requires a sense of ownership.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
And yet still, the entire thing is about one thing only:<\/p>\n
The 3 pages of the script in my hand. And what was I going to do with those 3 pages.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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 …<\/p>\n
The door opens and I hear my name called.<\/p>\n
The moment is now. I stand up and walk inside.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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 … Continue reading