I Have An Addiction: A Novel

(Note: I wrote this post on March tenth, but kept it in the Blogger vaults because I am superstitious.)

It's true. I am completely addicted to auditions. And while I love being in London, when I see an audition, it's bittersweet. I'm starting to realise that, acting-wise, being here, in the world capitol of theatre, is almost as bad an idea as going to school in New York City would have been (most of which don't allow you to audition outside of school, so it's like torture.) The only thing that makes it less so is because I don't know how to find most of the professional auditions here.

But that doesn't matter- I can't audition for professional theatre here anyway, as it would be a violation of my visa. I will sacrifice a lot for an audition, but I'm not willing to risk being deported. I did, however, find a few community (or "amateur", as they call them) theatres and could audition for those. Could, past tense, because at this point, nothing I could audition for would open and close before I left.

I know this. But that doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm going crazy because I'm not auditioning. I've been auditioning steadily since I was about fourteen, and to have that brought to a screeching halt is not pleasant. Of course, the fact that I torture myself by reading casting sites from back home (or happening across one passed between two of my Arcadia friends on Facebook, as I did just a second ago. Let me just wait for the pang to pass)... none of this helps either.


But before I came to London- in fact, over a year before- I started putting together a list of amateur theatres in the city. About a month before I left, I started to contact some of them. Long explanation short, you almost can't stroll into even an amateur theatre and audition. You can, but if you get into the show, you have to become a member, which require a fee, even if it's as small as three pounds. So I figured I'd start trying to get my name into a few of them. I e-mailed, a Facebooked, and I followed on Twitter. It all proved worthwhile- I got audition invitations over Facebook; one of the roles I didn't get was a Facebook invite. Another came from good old searching on a website. And I fell into e-mail correspondence with a director from a third theatre.

This third theatre reentered my life recently; I had been planning to attend an audition there in mid-February, but I had to go see Frankenstein on the only night on which the auditions were held. I figured that was sadly it for that theatre, too, like all of the others ones whose doable audition dates had passed. Then I got an e-mail. A forward, really, with an attachment about a student film. They needed a girl aged 18-25 to play the younger sister of the main character.


I got that excited feeling that causes my audition submission reflex to kick in, and not five minutes later, I had created a new e-mail, written a cover letter, attached my headshot and resume, and sent it off to the contact for the film. I pretty much have this reaction to any part that I'm even vaguely suited for. You need a thirty year old who's 5'3"? Well... I may look like a teenager, but I'm 5'3"- are you interested? Because I am. And believe it or not, sometimes this works out.

Of course, this casting call wasn't extreme at all- I fit it perfectly. A few hours later, I got a response saying they'd love to have me and a copy of the script. Did a two p.m. audition time on Wednesday at the university work for me? OF COURSE IT DOES! IT'S AN AUDITION, AND THAT WORKS FOR ME IN ANY WAY, SHAPE AND FORM!

I said yes. I didn't have any classes on Wednesday. Easy to just hop on the tube, audition at the uni, and come back.

Then I looked up the place. It was in Derby (pronounced "Darby," as in "Derbyshire.") I didn't know it until I looked at a map, but Derby is in the middle of NOWHERE-it's almost four hours away from London by bus. I didn't know England was big enough to have a place in the nation that far away. After looking at many transportation options, I found out that with my audition ending at 2:30, there was absolutely no way I could catch a bus that would get me back to the city in time to get the tube to the show I had to see. So I asked the director if he could bump me up an hour, he agreed, and I went back to the transportation schedules. STILL the bus back wouldn't work. I ended up getting a very cheap bus ride there and a still fairly cheap, but too expensive to do it both ways speedy train ride back to London.

I got up too early on Wednesday morning (though later than I would have if I hadn't straightened my hair the night before- I'm so clever :p) and went to my and Megan's old haunt, Victoria train station. My bus was prompt, and save for the Indian man who would not get out of the aisle for a lot of the ride (which is technically illegal, but he refused to stay seated for too long), the trip was uneventful.


The excitement started when I reached Derby bus station. Everyone I asked for help was very amiable and I was able to figure out which bus I needed to take to the uni. I could have walked, but I only had exactly the time it was estimated to take, and I knew I'd get lost. So I got on a tiny (thankfully very cheap) bus and when the girl with the University of Derby sweatshirt got off, so did I.

I got off at the right stop. Unfortunately, it was the wrong campus. Yeah. Going to both a home and English college that have campuses you can completely walk across in five minutes makes me forget that some colleges are very large. UD was huge- like, spread all over the city. But I didn't know this yet. I hopped off the bus, didn't see the building I needed right off, and figured it would be fastest to go into the main building and ask. I did, and the woman behind the desk was helpful, but sad for me. She told me that not only was I only the wrong campus, but I had just missed the last bus before one o'clock that took people to the correct part. She was very nice and called the director for me (I wanted to do it, but she insisted) and told him that I was going to be twenty minutes late. TWENTY MINUTES.

I am never late, and my biggest pet peeve is when others are late, especially to important things like auditions. I actually whimpered when she said this, but there was nothing that could be done about it. So I got a sandwich, made myself presentable (I was New Yorker auditioner-styling it: leggings under the skirt I was wearing so I wouldn't freeze to death on the commute), and stood in line and waited for the on-campus bus.

Thankfully, they don't charge you to take the uni bus. A very nice guy helped me figure out which stop to get off at (after doing an internal double-take at my accent; I've noticed that happens a lot) and twenty minutes later, I got off right outside the building I needed. Finding the audition room was no problem, though I had to stop outside of it and catch my breath, as I had hurried into the building and up the four flights of stairs.

The auditers were all very nice. There were three- two guys, one girl- and they were very friendly as they talked to me about the plot and what "my" character was like (I had unwittingly dressed accurately), and then we went into the reading.

Something I haven't mentioned is that this audition, just like the last out of school audition I went on, required an accent. It was in the character description, so I knew it had to be done. In one of my e-mails, I asked if British RP (received pronunciation) was all right. He said yes. Okay, cool. I used to have a really good British RP, used to being the key phrase. I used to practice it all the time and therefore used to have no problem doing it. But it's been awhile. Too long, and I was nervous. Because besides being out of practice, which is intimidating enough at any audition, I would be trying out in front of English people, using their accent (or some version of it), and they wanted me to sound like (some version of) them. It was a lot of pressure, at least to me. I didn't want to offend anyone, or fall into the ridiculously posh accent that Americans tend to*, or, in general, be terrible.

In preparation to do the accent, I wrote out the lines in IPA (the International Phonetic Alphabet.) I don't remember if I mentioned this before, but at Arcadia, acting majors have to take four semesters of IPA. I hated it, not because it's not interesting,but because I'm terrible at it. Really, really terrible. But I knew it was the only way I was going to be able to do the accent properly. I started writing out the lines in IPA, only to realise partway in that I was writing them for my own accent, like I would do in class. I had to start over and write it for British RP. In the end, my notes looked like this:

I guess I was all right. I tried to introduce my brain into the accent by slowly slipping into it as we got closer to the reading. While I introduced myself and chatted in my own accent, as soon as they mentioned beginning the readings, I started slipping into it, hoping not to really bring attention to the fact that I was doing so. They didn't throw up or anything when I read the lines with the accent, so I hope it wasn't cringe-worthy.

I got to do both scenes twice, getting direction between the readings, which is always a good sign. I was so nervous about the accent that my voice was shaking and much breathier than it normally is, but as the character is grieving, it passed (I hope.)

Once the reading had finished, we chatted some more. They asked if I was from America- this question always confuses me, because I forget that some Canadian accents sound very similar to mine, and so usually spend a brief pause thinking, 'As opposed to where?' We talked about that, where I was staying in England, how much it cost to get there (since, if I get cast, they will pay the transportation costs), etc. as I filled out a form and attached another copy of my headshot and resume.

It was a very enjoyable audition overall, despite all of the mix-ups. Through observations while I was on the local bus (yes, Mom and Dad, I noticed SIGNS! On the ROAD!), I knew that once I got back to the main campus, I could get a local bus directly to the train station. I got the bus and to the train station and then to London with no problems. Then I hung around St. Pancras for a few hours, had dinner there, then got to the tube to the theatre to see Company (which was very well sung, though the plot's not great.)

So, all in all, a successful day- I figured out three different, new forms of transportation, auditioned in a country with one of its accents, and had fun at the audition.

Since they're filming tomorrow, I am guessing that I did not get the part, but it wasn't a waste of a day. There could be many reasons that I didn't get the part- they might not have liked me for the character, or it also might have been just because it would be too expensive- they were going to have to put me up in a hotel overnight because I live so far away. But I will never know, and that's how it works sometimes.

*I mentioned doing this accent to some of my Adaptations classmates as we were hanging out in my kitchen before filming some stuff for a project. They immediately insisted I show them. I only agreed to when they said they'd do American accents afterwards. I read a bit of the newspaper to them with the accent. They pronounced it good (they may have just been being nice), but observed that it was quite posh. "But I suppose that's what most Americans fall into. That or Cockney," one girl said, which is very true.

Some Things

Yesterday, I came home to a package! I love packages! I knew that my mom was sending me an ace bandage for my ankle, but I didn't expect the other things:

Girl Scout cookies! Popcorn! And chips (which, even though they're from America, are labelled "crisps")!

Though the ace bandage goes on my ankle, it's actually for my foot. I mentioned in my 2010 overview post that in October, I did something to my foot (I have no idea what) that's made it very painful to walk since then. I've been walking on the side of my foot for nearly six months and the pain stil hasn't gone away. But even with just a few hours of wearing the bandage since yesterday and my foot already feels better- and I'm walking less oddly on the other foot, too. I guess I was doing it to balance myself out.

In other news, I just got an e-mail telling me that I didn't get a student film role that I tried out for yesterday. I got the casting call through the school theatre company, and my groupmate Emily and I both auditioned yesterday between class and rehearsal (though not together.) My audition actually went really well. The script was funny and my audition partner was good to work with. They spent a lot of time with us, both of us getting to read for each character and giving us direction, and I was surprised when Emily came back from her audition within a few minutes. They also talked schedules with us and it seemed like they liked the girl and me as a pair. And yet... no part. If they liked my performance as much as they say they did, it honestly could have come down to the fact that my accent would have stood out. But you never really know.
I'm definitely disappointed, because it would have been a cool short-term project to work on, but these things happen. I think I'd be less disappointed if I had more time here, but just like when I'm back at Arcadia, I'm starting to panic because I haven't gotten a part yet. Limited time in any place makes me fret when it comes to theatre. As I've said before, I did more roles than I usually do last semester because I wanted to but also so I wouldn't feel like I needed a part here. Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten what I'm like. But I guess with all the schoolwork I have to do memorizing even a two-page script wouldn't necessarily be the best thing to spend my time on (says the logical part of me. The other 98% just wants to act.)

This weekend, I'm going to a University of London library that my history teacher reccommended, as the school library doesn't have all of the books I need for my essay. I'm finishing up the one I did find there, and I have to say that my teacher has definitely done his job. In over two hundred pages of academic reading, I understand every reference, know every name mentioned, and know that I have several additional articles on the subjects covered. The book itself is very interesting- The Female Malady by Elaine Showalter- and I'd like to read all of it, but I think I'll have to do that after my essay is due; I don't have time for extra reading right now.

Now time to make some pasta and read about more crazy people...

A (Partially) Different Kind of Audition

Yesterday and Friday were the auditions for QMUL's New Writer's Festival... which means that people- actual, willing participants who most likely can act- were auditioning for my two short plays.

I was actually at the auditions as an actor, but as a writer, it was pretty exciting too. Since almost no one in the drama company knows me, no one attached the writer name to me, and I got to hear people explain and discuss my pieces while remaining essentially invisible. And everyone who read them seemed to like them- they pronounced both "really funny," which was nice to hear, since that is the aim of the pieces.
As I said before, they asked me a few times if I wanted to direct and I said no. Now I see why they asked me so many times- almost everyone else is directing their own pieces, so they must have thought I was really weird. But even in hindsight, I think I made the right choice. I've calmed down since my directorial debut in third grade, but not by much.

I auditioned for my pieces as well as the six others that were chosen. The shorter one of mine, the one based off the dinner I had with my lovely friend Kara, her mother, and her grandmother, is being directed by a guy who has some pretty cool ideas about it, which he explained to me when he found out that I was the playwright. I'm pretty excited to see it played out- it's going to be even funnier than I wrote it!
When you went into these auditions, you wrote your name down or, more likely, they asked you and wrote it down themselves, probably to put a name with a face. So when I went into my second one, they said, "Name?" I could see mine glaring out of the byline that the girl had right in front of her, so I said, "Rachel." "Rachel what?" I practically whispered my last name, and she went, "Oh... oh, you're the writer. Wow. Okay... well, now I'm nervous." I told her not to be, that the reason I had submitted them was so they could be played with and to help me improve them. She seems pretty excited about it, and she's pretty much just keeping it how I wrote it- no fancy sets or crowds of people. I think both of these directors are going to be great.

The most interesting thing about watching my pieces be auditioned for was seeing how the humor carried over into an English setting. I didn't realise how many little Americanisms there were in my pieces until they were being performed in English accents. Besides one character saying "Mom" a few times, I also make reference to Stephen Sondheim and Ginger Rogers in one of them. No one had any idea who either of those two were... which was a little surprising considering that Stephen Sondheim is pretty famous worldwide. In the other scene, I have one character call another a jerk, and I'm not sure if they use that word here, but hearing it with the accent was pretty funny. Thankfully, most of the humor seemed to carry over well.

I was a little worried about auditioning at all. They didn't mention until the meeting right before that instead of there being normal rehearsals for two weeks, there were only marathon, all-day rehearsals in Reading Week... but I already have plans with my friend Megan for most of that week, which have been planned for awhile now. I contemplated not auditioning at all, but the truth is, I am addicted to auditions. If there is one going on, I have to be there or I go crazy with the "what if"s. So I spent the next four hours getting really overheated in small rooms reading various scripts.
I thought I might wait to see if I was on any cast lists and then ask the director what the rehearsal schedule looked like, as I had also heard that not all of them required those marathon days. However, as much as I wanted to see if I was cast, that's a really crappy thing to do to a director, especially in the school setting when the casting is hard because everyone wants the same four people. So I sent them an e-mail saying that if the commitment really was as described, if they saw fit to pull me from any running I might be in, I understood. This kind of choice makes me think that maybe I'm not as selfish a workaholic as I tend to see myself most of the time.

I'm not sure if it was the e-mail or the fact that I wasn't right for any of the roles anyway, but I wasn't cast. While it always sucks not to be on a cast list, the fact is that that week is really full for me already. In addition to going on many adventures with Megan, I'm also going to see a show that I really want to see the weekend of performances, seeing my two pieces be performed the night before, hopefully sitting in on a rehearsal or two as a writer (if they'll let me), not to mention using reading week for that which it's actually intended- homework. Plus, since my pieces are in the festival, part of me is there anyway... even if people will think I'm incredibly morbid and only write about funerals :p

I remind myself that I did two shows last semester so I would feel fulfilled enough to not feel bad if I didn't get anything over here. That was the theory. However, I am me and of course I want a show... or five... while I'm here. The fact is that I probably won't get one, even if just because of the issue of time. Once March rolls around, the performances for anything that's auditioning will be too late for me to participate. It drives me crazy to not be auditioning constantly. However, I am in England, so I should probably shut up.

Stay tuned today for another entry on the London Chinese New Year celebration!

London Audition #2

This past Monday, I went on my first real London audition. You might be wondering why I am writing about it now, nearly a week later. This is because I am extremely superstitious about stuff like this and believe that if I talk about it, I will jinx it. However, since the director said he would let us know by this weekend and Sunday has come without any word, I'm thinking I didn't get it.

The audition went really well, actually, which just goes to show that not all good auditions glean parts. In fact, many good auditions don't and vice-versa. I've gotten parts when I went to auditions exhausted and left thinking I was terrible. You never know what they're looking for, I guess. This time, it wasn't me, and that's the way it works sometimes.

(Notice how level-headed I am about this; I really did want this part, but it doesn't feel life-or-death like the other one did, even if I did dream about this one for the past two nights.)

The audition was for a play by a playwright that is well-known in England, but who I’ve never heard of back home, Jim Cartwright. It's an edgy, very dark piece from the '80s.

I got to the theatre fifteen minutes early, and it took me a second to find the venue as it was literally under the train tracks. However, I was the first one there. Two girls walked in right after me and we went into the green room and met the director. Over the next forty-five minutes, the room slowly filled up; there were a good number of people there.

The director gave us a pre-audition talk and then we started. Though I got there first, I was one of the last to audition, which kind of screwed me up a little bit because I chose a monologue from the script (a requirement) that just reading it made me cry. I was ready, I thought in the beginning. I'm gonna impress them with my crying skills; God knows I do it enough in my real life. But all that waiting kind of killed my mood, which shouldn't happen, but does. Also, everyone was talking around me and I felt really anti-social not joining in. I didn't for about two hours, but then an older lady started chatting with me about books and her love of Metallica, and then later I was talking to a girl my age. The girl was very interested in America, saying that she was going to go someday and she knew that there resided a tall, handsome American boy just for her (funny how people dream of different things, huh? All us American girls came here for the same thing... oh, and an education :p)

When I got into the theatre around 9:50, I wasn’t feeling teary, no matter how many situations- real or fictional- that I presented myself with. I feel like life might be easier if I were a Method actor, but… I’m not and I don’t think I ever will be.

I went in and climbed up onstage. The director was gone and I was hoping that he was going to come back; was he bored already? His assistant director took my picture and we chatted a bit about my experiences in England so far- I was the only American at the audition, so of course I stuck out. That's another reason why I didn't talk much in the waiting room; I dreaded displaying the neon sign of my accent.

Oh, my accent… yeah. I haven’t mentioned yet that this play takes place in Lancashire, England. And that accent, according to a few sources, is very hard to learn without a few months and a dialect coach. Me? I had a few days and YouTube. When you take acting classes, one of the first things you’re told is that you should not audition with an accent unless they ask for it. I had been practicing with an accent and it wasn’t terrible, but I didn’t know how good it was (if it was at all) and I didn’t want to insult anyone with a horrendous accent. So even though I wanted to blend in, I decided to follow the rules and use my own accent. It helped that the director (who didn’t have an English accent himself) gave us permission to use our own. In hindsight, I'm glad I used my own; it allowed me to concentrate on what I was saying, not how I was saying it and if it sounded bad.

Finally, the director came back, assured me that using my own accent was fine, and I started the monologue. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I got teary but never actually cried, and it drives me crazy when that happens; I could feel the tears built up, but the wall would not come down. It's like a really obvious metaphor for my acting in general.

The director asked me to move a little more, to use the whole stage, and I did so (I hope.) They seemed to really like it, saying it was great to watch. Then the director asked, “Do you think you could learn the Lancashire accent if you needed to?” I said yes, that usually if I hear an accent long enough, I can emulate it, which is true. He said that it might not have to be Lancashire- he might be able to work different accents in, including my own. We discussed this at length, and in the end, I think we were all pretty happy with what had gone on.

The director had told us at the pre-talk that he didn't want to have callbacks if he could help it. I don't know if they took place on Friday... if they did, I wasn't invited. I'm not sure if we'll be notified even if we weren't cast; it's always helpful to know when to move on.

Like I said, not getting this part doesn't feel nearly as bad as the other one. Partially, it is the whole thing that I got to put myself out there for it and I know the audition wasn't bad. I also know that I presented them with a very full conflict schedule, what with Thursday class rehearsals and all the plays I have to see. It helps, too, that while I really do like the play and think that being in it would push me in a way I've never been pushed, it's not a play I've pined after like the other one; I just haven't had time to develop the same passion for it.

So maybe I'll go and see it when it comes out. It is a pretty awesome play. I just wish I were here longer so I could audition for more stuff. Come March, I won't be able to audition for anything because the performances will most likely commence once I'm gone. But there are other auditions still on the horizon, so I have those to look forward to.

EDIT: Just got the final word- no role. Oh well.

London Audition!

I went on my first London audition last night; I won't go so far as to label it a London-style audition, as the company was founded and is run by two Americans. It was a long commute to get there- about a half hour to forty-five minutes by tube, then what was supposed to be a seven-minute walk. The walk was made much longer by the fact that, even with a map, I couldn't find the road and no one I asked knew where it was. Of course, I also tried to be choosy as to who I asked for directions, considering the fact that I was alone in dark London.

Eventually I made it to the theatre (late... I hate it when people are late, especially to auditions), was buzzed into the building and went up to the second floor (which, here, is technically the third; they count the ground floor as just that.) A guy handed me a form to fill out, but since I was late, I barely had time to fill it out before I was called in.

I was taken back to a rehearsal room and met the two casting directors, both of whom are American. We were just talking a bit and when they heard my accent, they asked, "Canadian or American?" I did my monologue, which was all right but nothing stunning, and then we talked a bit more after that. They were both really nice and seemed interested in any conflicts I might have with the rehearsal/performance schedule and kept saying how much they liked my monologue, so it was difficult for me to read the audition.

They said they'd let me know by last night if I had a callback or not, and unfortunately, I didn't get it. I'm disappointed, but it happens. I'm hoping this happened so maybe I can do something at school (we have a meeting about all things theatre in a week.) If I do get something at school, it will be my first actual college show, even though I've done shows while in school. Fingers crossed I can get something over here. I know that no one expects me to get a show while I'm here... but I do. Not because I think the London theatre community is waiting for me with open arms, but because I expect myself to work hard enough that I have a show at all times. This isn't always the case, though it was for many years, and because of those years, I go a little stir-crazy when I don't have a show of any kind (and my grades drop. The more shows I have, the higher my GPA.) So here's hoping I get something (anything) to keep me sane.

We got a free "dinner" tonight during one of the cafe's happy hours. We were meant to get a slice of pizza and a drink, but it wasn't really a meal... more like an appetizer- delicious, but very, very small. I also re-realised something that I already knew- they don't chill their drinks here. When you go up to a counter and ask for a drink, they just take it off the counter and hand it to you. I think they chll drinks more than they used to (I've noticed a lot of places like the school store have drinks in refrigerators and most restaurants give you ice), but you can't expect it.

Tomorrow I have seven hours of one class- ahhh! I'm already terrified of this class. I thought it was mostly a writing class, and while that is a large component, I know the parts that aren't writing are really going to push my boundaries... and I have it ALL DAY. The first session, the actual class, is from 9-1, and then we have an "unsupervised rehearsal" from 6-9. I know this class is worth 30 credits (a.k.a. around eight at my home school), but that's a whole lotta one class to have in a single day.

Today has mostly been spent doing homework- I have to read 'Tis Pity She's a Whore for class tomorrow, and it's a very weird play. John Ford, the playwright, seems to have been strongly influenced by Shakespeare; besides the fact that he references him a lot, the plot of this play is basically like a dirty, incestuous, less-money-focused version of The Merchant of Venice. He even comes dangerously close to copying a ton of lines from the play. Having done Merchant last summer, I keep marking the similarities in my notes- and there are a lot of similarities.

I'm not feeling extremely well tonight, hence why this post is free of the incredible wit with which I generally write my posts :p I started feeling really dizzy at dinner tonight and it hasn't gone away. I'm not sure what the cause is, but I hope it's not long-lasting. Perhaps I've just been eating too much Nutella and now I'm crashing from all the sugar.

I suppose I should get back to said homework... yay?