A Season of Exploration, Part IV: From the Other Side of the Table

Well, it’s been a while since my last theatre tale and this one will actually conclude this season of tales.

As I stated in my last entry, I was going to serve as an Assistant to the Director for Lara Marsh for the Playhouse production of Lost Boy Found in Whole Foods.  This was an interesting process from start to finish as Lara actually put me through an orientation of sorts before launching me on the project.

First and foremost, she wanted to know why this particular show because she knows how selective I am about the projects I choose to take on.  I’ve always been particularly attracted to scripts that feature great strength of spirit and this play has that in spades in the form of its two leading characters, Christine and Gabriel.  Since I had also read for the role of Michael Dolan back when the show was a staged reading, I had enough familiarity with the script to decide it would be a good project to learn the ropes of directing.

My first assignment was to do some background research for the show.  As the story centers around helping a young refugee from the Sudanese Civil War, I compiled some research about Sudan, the Sudanese Civil War, Sudanese culture and customs, and Somalia and its culture (due to one of the characters being from that region).

Lara had done a large amount of research as well.  Over the past two years Lara had become a living encyclopedia about the Sudan and the Lost Boys in her efforts to bring this show to life.  She had mastered the extremely difficult Dinka dialect, had watched a number of documentaries, and read What is the What by Dave Eggers, a very hard to read, but eye opening account of the trek of the Lost Boys through the eyes of Valentino Achak Deng who lived through it.

I am a big “devil in the details” type of person and Lara is of a similar bent which is why we worked so well together during this process and saw eye to eye on 98% of things.  Some directors prefer actors to have done no prep work before beginning the creative process so they can grow organically.  Others want the actors to have read the script before auditioning.  But Lara wanted her cast to be well grounded in the history behind this play so they would be able to better develop their characters.

Then came the night of auditions where I got to formally meet Jeanne Shelton, a stage manager I had read in front of on numerous occasions.  The auditions were a little less than I hoped for in terms of size.  I had secretly hoped for a slew of actors so we could have an overwhelming selection to pick and choose from.  We had enough people show up to cast the play with just a little overage.  But the lack of quantity was, by and large, made up by the quality shown by the people who did come to audition.

I had once heard it said that a director only needs 15 seconds to determine whether or not he or she is going to cast you.  I agree with that to an extent.  We may need more than 15 seconds to decide to cast you, but it only takes about 15 seconds to decide not to cast you.  And don’t think that means that the audition was bad.  I mentally eliminated a couple of people who had great reads immediately simply because they were not suitable for any of our roles.

Fortunately, we were able to cast most of our cast from the auditions.  A couple of roles didn’t have enough people audition and those that did were not quite right, so Lara had to find people to fill those roles.

Now we had a cast and could begin the creative process.  During the process I learned that directing is a lot more than just handling the artistic side of things.  I’m used to coming early and staying late as an actor, but a director needs to be there much earlier than anyone else and must stay much later.  Countless details need to be considered like sounds, lights, props, etc.

I even learned that directing has its own political side to get the things one needs for a show to be the best that it can be.  One prominent thing I learned is that the season finale in the Playhouse’s smaller theatre is nicknamed the “death slot”.

This isn’t a bad moniker.  But this show takes place at the end of the season so a great deal of money has already been spent by this point and there is still the final musical to be produced on the Playhouse’s Main Stage which is going to need a lot of money as they are usually big, lavish affairs.  It just means that some strategy and negotiation is necessary for the shows in this slot to get what it needs.  Keep in mind that some of the Playhouse’s best shows have taken place in this slot such as Biloxi Blues, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and our little effort which has become a critical darling.

As Assistant to the Director, you may think that my job duties were relegated to getting Lara’s coffee, sharpening her pencils, and being her all around gofer.  The reality was that I was closer to an Assistant Director.  I gave ideas to Lara and took very copious acting notes for the performers.  Lara took me very seriously, often incorporating my ideas into her own notes.

I learned a great deal about directing under Lara’s learning tree.  Like acting, directing is also an art because it’s about a lot more than telling actors how to perform.  It’s about working with all types of learning curves, temperaments, and experience levels.  It’s about knowing where, when, and why to give a note.

As a details guy, I was ready to get into the grit and gristle of things right away.  Lara taught me that you have to let the actors experiment at first.  Early notes are simple as the performers build the frame of the house.  Directors gently guide it so the proper foundation is built.  As that confidence grows, the notes become more detailed and nuanced to refine and shape the story.

I would have to say that my favorite directing moment came when I was working on a scene with our lead actress, Julie Fitzgerald Ryan, and Victoria Luther, who was playing her daughter.  They were having an argument and Julie’s character has a line where she says, “We’re supposed to be living in circles.  Concentric circles.  Circles within circles.”

When I heard that line, I said, “Do I dare?  Yes, I dare.”  Then I asked Victoria to mouth the words along with Julie as I felt her character had heard this speech about a million times.  It’s hit the mark every single time.

One thing I’ve noticed about working in this slot is that the rehearsal period seems to be a bit reduced.  There’s only about 4 weeks of rehearsal as opposed to the 5 or 6 weeks I’m used to.  That means rehearsals almost every day for 4 to 5 hours at a clip to get where we need to be.

So fast forward to preview night.  I hadn’t been so nervous for a show since my first one.  What will the audience think?  Will they love it?  Will they hate it?  Will they ride me out of town on a rail?

I wait with baited breath until the end of the show and the audience rose to its feet for a standing ovation.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  One hurdle crossed.

Now it’s opening night.  The extra real deal, as it were.  The cast came out all guns a blazing and just nailed it to the floor.  Every review (5 of them at this point) has been glowing making Lost Boys Found at Whole Foods one of the most critically well received shows of the season.  And I had helped make it happen.

I rank this event as one of my prouder accomplishments in theatre and something more remarkable happened.  As I helped to guide this cast, my own skills as an actor were reinforced and, for the first time in a long while, I good and truly felt the itch to perform again.  So now I’m looking to tell a story again and found at least one promising show next year.

Well, that wraps up this season of tales.  I will return with a new season that I like to call “A Season of Renewal”.  We’ll see you then.

Bonding

Sometimes it’s just the little moments away from the stage that one appreciates the most.

Last night had been a long rehearsal for me.  I do a hard workout 5-6 days a week and last night was the day for my absolute hardest workout.  Combine that with a long day at the office and just enough time to shower and eat a salad after the workout and you’ve got yourself one weary consulting thespian.

I’m a very active person.  On a physical level, I’m on the go a lot and I like to do things and have adventures (hence, my love of travel).  My mental activity probably outstrips my physical activity because I am almost constantly thinking (which has its highs and its lows).  Like Sherlock Holmes, doing nothing wears me out more than doing something.

As my friends will gladly testify, I am usually not much of a night owl.  They usually know when I’m working on a show because I will sometimes doze off because I work sunup to sundown.  It also happens when I’m doing a passive activity like watching TV.  As long as my brain is engaged, I can be capable of staying up into the wee hours of the morning.  If I’m doing nothing, my body’s response is, “Ah, to heck with this.  Lights out!!!”

After the heavy workout and then just sitting and observing the cast work, I was starting to feel a little sleepy towards the end of rehearsal.  Then the actors decided they wanted to run the act from the top which meant I had to leap into action as one of our actors was not called last night.  It was like a switch had turned on in my mind and I instantly became alert.  But I was so stiff from my workout that I simply read the lines from where I sat.

When we finished for the night, I was ready to head for home and read a little before turning in, but our Bogle (Bill Grennan) decided he wanted a glass of wine and asked me if I’d join him.  I decided, “Why not?” 

And I was glad I made the choice because it’s the little moments spent away from the stage with your acting family that really builds the camaraderie, friendships, and, dare I say, a stronger show.

I’ve been friends with Bill since that wonderful experience with Biloxi Blues, but I think this is the first time we’ve ever really been able to talk and I was amazed to discover just how much we had in common.

Bill and I actually have similar ideas when it comes to acting and interpretation.  We actually share nearly identical views on the characterization of the Bogle, although Bill admits that he hasn’t quite found him yet.  I think he’s a lot closer than he realizes as he’s made some really great discoveries.  But I do understand the challenge in discovering the character.  There is nothing quite as sweet as the moment when the character reveals himself to me and that’s when the real excitement of acting begins.

We discussed our experiences in The 39 Steps for him and Leaving Iowa for me and I was able to share what a transformative and relieving experience that show was for me.  I was surprised to discover that Bill related a bit better than I thought.  Like myself, he had experienced a long drought at the beginning of his career.

Bill began auditioning at the age of 14 and did not get cast until he finally gained a bit part towards the end of his high school career.  From there he finally graduated to better roles in college and then to the success he’s enjoyed on the community theatre circuit in recent years.  Both of us also credit Susan Clement-Toberer with giving us that first really big breakthrough role.

He also managed to make me feel better about my audition for Every Christmas Story Ever Told a few years back.  As my regular readers know, I was the only person to audition for that show on the first night of auditions and I had long feared that I had literally lost to nobody.  Bill told me he had auditioned with a few other people on the second night and I felt immensely better because I had at least lost to flesh and blood opponents.

Bill did think losing to air was hilarious and encouraged me to write a comedic monologue about that idea because it would be “comedic gold” as he stated.  I just may accept that challenge.

But it’s really the simple moments like those that add to the magic of the theatre experience.  Rediscovering that last night has made this whole experience as the show’s consulting thespian worthwhile indeed.

Transitions, Part 2

As we left off in Part 1, W;t marked a transition for me, but I didn’t know where the road was leading just yet.

During the rehearsal period for W;t, the audition I had been waiting for all season rapidly approached.  That was Twelve Angry Men for the Omaha Playhouse and guest directed by Susan Clement-Toberer.  This play is one of the true classics of theatre and tells the story of a jury deliberating on the guilt of a teen accused of murdering his father.  At the start of the play, eleven of the men are convinced of his guilt and one man isn’t certain.  As the play progresses, the lone standout (Juror 8) slowly convinces the others that there is a reasonable doubt of the boy’s guilt resulting in the exoneration of the accused.

I was interested in the role of Juror 8, but any of the jurors were interesting characters.  I spent a little time preparing for the show with a friend I had made during Macbeth named Doug Blackburn.  Doug would go on to play an extremely vital role in my development as an actor, but that will be a story for a future time.

Now back to the audition.  With very rare exceptions, I always prepare for a show by reading the script first and figuring out which characters catch my interest.  Once I’ve selected my characters, I spend some time polishing them a bit for the audition so I can be seen in my best light.  Needless to say, the bulk of my energies went towards preparing Juror 8.

I got to the audition and noticed there were quite a few men there.  The classics do have a tendency to bring people out of the woodwork.  I ended up being in the first group read and I was given the character of Juror 2.  Juror 2 is a very nervous, reticent man and in this particular scene, he only had 3 little lines so I couldn’t really do much more than act between the lines and listen as a very nervous, reticent man would listen.

There were a couple of more rounds of reading and then Susan said she was going to start sending people home.  I was the first person to go.  Now I had put a lot of work into Juror 8 and I was bound and determined to go down swinging so I asked Susan if I could read one time for that role.  I could hear the gears moving in her head as she cocked it back and forth a couple of times as she considered my request.  Finally, she looked at me and with a look of sympathy on her face said, “I don’t see you as Juror 8.”

Those words hit me with all the subtlety of a gauntlet punch to my stomach.  I thanked Susan for her honesty, took a moment to collect myself, and half-dazedly left the rehearsal hall.  As I stepped into the hallway, Susan tapped me with her clipboard to get my attention and said, “Hey!  Don’t feel bad because I’m sending you home so early.  I know you.  I know what you can do and I just don’t need to see a lot of you.”

I’d like to interrupt the thread of the tale for just a moment to state an important fact.  Directors never intend to make a person feel bad.  A director wants you to be the answer to his or her casting dilemma, but has a duty to the vision of the whole.  A rejection isn’t a rejection of you as a quality performer.  It’s just that you didn’t fit that particular director’s vision of that particular role in that particular play at that particular moment.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled tale.

I said I understood and gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead and drove to finish off the rehearsal for W;t.  There was no callback and no casting. . .at least not in the usual sense.

Several weeks later I got to the Blue Barn earlier than normal because parking is such a bear down around there.  I was reading a book to pass the time and Susan came in, greeted me, and went to her office area.  A few minutes later, she came back and said, “I know I didn’t cast you in Twelve Angry Men, but I still need someone to play the guard and I’d like to offer him to you.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather.  This was the first time I had ever been offered a role after being formally rejected.  I was also perplexed because 90 men had auditioned for this show and I was amazed that Susan was not able to find a worthy guard in all of those people.  I thought about it for an hour, then told her I would take the role.  In addition to playing the guard, I would also be understudying for Jurors 2 and 5.  I later found out that Doug, who had been cast as Juror 3, had suggested my name to Susan, telling her that I knew how big the show was going to be and that I just wanted to be involved in it.

I was still doing W;t while rehearsals for Twelve Angry Men began and I thought the role would permit me a few days off here and there to recoup my energies.  It turns out that my appearances were spaced out in such a way that I ended up being at rehearsal every night, too.  And that was fine by me.

I got a different type of joy out of Twelve Angry Men because the privilege was just watching the show slowly come to life before my eyes.  I even got to stretch myself a bit as a performer as Susan would let me sub for other actors on nights when they couldn’t be at rehearsal.  Really the only downside, such as it was, was when we actually opened because I was the only character who left the stage.  This meant I had long periods of time by myself which I used to read a John Lennon biography.

Twelve Angry Men was a magnificent triumph.  It was a highly lauded show which earned a standing ovation each and every night.  Just like in Biloxi Blues, this show won every actor award on the non-musical side of things at the Playhouse awards.  Unlike Biloxi Blues, I was unable to recapture my momentum.

I started the next season with a Playhouse audition for a show called Almost, Maine directed by the Playhouse’s new Resident Director, Amy Lane.  This is a quirky show that features 9 vignettes which all take place at 9pm in the town of Almost, Maine.  I had another solid showing and was even asked to stay behind for an extra read.  But once more, I experienced total defeat.  No callback.  No casting.

That seemed to set the tone for the season where I would have good auditions, but just couldn’t seem to get cast.  It all built up to my audition for Mister Roberts at the Playhouse and directed by Susie Baer-Collins. 

Now this audition was a return to the way I had been used to things after the banner season.  I read twice and had stellar reads for Ensign Pulver (whom I wanted) and Mister Roberts (whom I certainly would not have objected to).  And then I got a callback which had me feeling pretty good as I naturally assumed that because I had been called back based on the strength of my reads for those 2 characters then I must be being considered for those 2 characters.

I was in for quite a surprise at the callback when I was never asked to read for either for those characters again.  Instead I spent the entire evening reading for various crew members.  I did get a very positive comment from Doug, who was gunning for the role of the ship’s captain.  He said I had shocked the s$@# out of him as that was the most animation he had ever seen out of me and he loved how I had just thrown caution to the wind.  I explained that in our previous auditions together, he had only seen me audition for more conservative characters which required less animation.

That Friday, Susie called me and offered me the role of Wiley which I accepted.  Truthfully, I did want a more challenging role, but Susie did tell me that I was one of the first people she cast, so she saw something “Wiley” about me.  So I was honored, but wanted more all at the same time.

The day after my casting, I went down to the Blue Barn to audition for their season finale, Rabbit Hole.  That was the intention, but I didn’t even get in the door.  I knew there was going to be some crossover with Mister Roberts, but I hoped it would be at the tail end so I would be able to do both.  My eyes bulged when I noticed that rehearsals would start smack in the middle of the run of Mister Roberts, resulting in the missing of 10 days of rehearsal.

Rabbit Hole was only a 4 person cast, so every person and every role would be vital.  I knew that missing that much rehearsal might be a death knell for my chances.  But, with my never say die attitude, I vowed to go down fighting.  And then I got stopped in my tracks.

Lara Marsh, a dear friend who was stage managing this show as well as Mister Roberts, suddenly materialized by my side and delivered the bad news that Susan was not going to let me audition due to the conflicts with Mister Roberts.  I was let down, but completely understood.  I trashed my audition sheet and drove for home.  Later that night, I did get an e-mail from Susan saying she was sorry that I couldn’t audition, but to push my way through next time and say hi.

Mister Roberts was another hit for the Playhouse and I once again had that sense of contribution that had somewhat eluded me in Twelve Angry Men.  During the run of the show, Doug Blackburn (who won the role of the captain) came up to me at one point and said, “Dude.  Next season.  Go out and be Felix Unger (for the production of The Odd Couple).  I’ll help you.”

I accepted his offer, but after the close of Mister Roberts, I finally found where my road was taking me and it seemed like a brick wall.

Soaring, Part 3

Biloxi Blues still ranks as one of the greatest experiences of my theatrical life.  Just like my very first show, I had an incredible cast that all liked each other and all egos were checked at the door.  Susan had the most amazing directing style I had ever seen.  It’s so subtle that you don’t always know that you’re being directed, but then. . .BOOM!  You’re right where she needed you to be.

I looked forward to rehearsal each and every night and when opening night rolled around, all of us were just white hot and ready to tear it up.  We were so skilled, that we could have swapped roles around amongst our group and our show would have been just as strong, I kid you not.

Biloxi Blues was considered one of the top shows of the season and the reviews were glowing.  One paper called our cast “the next vanguard of theatre”.  I garnered a tremendous amount of praise both in the papers and within the theatre community and I was riding Cloud 9.  Thanks to Susan’s direction, my game had been advanced to a whole new level and I was finally able to win over the 2 artistic heads of the Playhouse (Carl Beck & Susie Baer-Collins).  Susie gave me a big hug after she saw the show and told me I had been absolutely wonderful.  That show accomplished for me with those two what might have taken 20 auditions apiece ordinarily.

At the Playhouse Awards that year, Biloxi Blues won every actor award on the non-musical side of things.  The show would go on to garner a Best Show nomination at that year’s Theatre Arts Guild Awards as well as another in the inaugural Omaha Entertainment Arts Awards Show.  And then Hamlet got nominated for Best Show in the OEAs as well.  So I had been in two highly regarded shows in the same season and I had helped them gain that acclaim.  All of my trials, perseverance, work, and hope were finally paying dividends and, man, did it feel good.

During the run of Biloxi Blues, I even found time to gain a feeling of redemption from The Elephant Man.  Kevin Lawler was returning to town to guest direct a one man show for SNAP Productions called I Am My Own Wife.  This appealed to me on several levels.  Not only would a one man show really allow me a chance to test my ever increasing abilities, but it felt like a way I could close the book on The Elephant Man.

Despite the crushing blow I received from that audition, I never bore a grudge or any anger towards Kevin.  I understood that he did what he felt was right for the show based on what he saw and thought at the time and I respected that.  By just showing up for this audition, it felt like I would be saying, “Everything is fine between us.”

I ended up using a monologue from a one man musical called Cotton Patch Gospel and. . .What’s that?  You’ve never heard of Cotton Patch Gospel? 

Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised.  The show was a big hit when it was released in 1982, but has fallen into obscurity over time.  It’s the story of Jesus from the Gospel of Matthew told southern style.  It’s one of my favorite plays and I often use it when I need to perform a monologue as most directors will not be aware of the show.

Due to having to perform in Biloxi Blues that afternoon, I signed up to be the first person to audition.  And I was quite nervous.  Kevin came out of the performing area, said hello, and we shook hands.  And I thought everything would be cool after that.

I walked into the theatre and did a double take at the set which was decked out like a Catholic Church for their production of Defending Marriage.  Kevin asked me about my acting work since the last time we met and I had told him I had done 11 more shows and was currently working on Biloxi Blues.  He asked me what I thought about working with Susan and I sang her praises.

Then he asked me to do my monologue and I nailed it exactly the way that I wanted to hit it.  When I finished, Kevin said, “That was really good, Chris.  I can really see the growth you’ve made, even from The Elephant Man which I think was the last time you auditioned for me.  It’s obvious you’ve been doing a lot more of this.  That was such an interesting piece.  Where the hell did you find it?”

And I told him the story of how the show had been produced when I was in high school and it had always stayed with me and I found a copy of the original production and bought it.

Kevin then asked me if I could do the monologue again, but do it as if I were really bored.  I thought for a moment, then did a sleepy take on the passage.  Kevin stopped me and said I was doing it, but on a scale of 1-10, I was at a 4 and he needed me at an 8.  I tried again and really slathered on the boredom.  I’m not sure if I was at an 8, but I think a 6.5 might be accurate.

Then he asked me to do it again as a fire and brimstone preacher.  I thought back to televangelists I had seen and did my best to emulate them, feeling I had done a respectable job.  Partway through the read, Kevin stopped me and asked me to try my strongest Southern accent.  Fortunately, I’ve got a pretty good ear for accents and had a fairly decent Southern preacher going.  When I finished, Kevin thanked me for my time and said I would hear something either way.

It took five weeks, but I was finally called and informed that another actor had won the role.  But I had gained peace of mind.  And I must have made it down to the final cut if it took that long to finally be rejected.

But even that wasn’t the end of the saga of The Elephant Man.  The true end actually came two years later when I bumped into Kevin at the inaugural Mid-Plains Theatre Conference.  We chatted a bit and then he floored me when he said:

“You know you had a really wonderful audition for The Elephant Man.  It was amazing to see an actor come in with that type of heart and passion.  I’m really sorry I couldn’t cast you.”

That’s when I closed the book because I knew that the audition had meant something if he still remembered it so vividly after six years.  And that is why I suspect I really might have been the runner-up for the role.

Still riding high from my banner year in theatre, I started off the 2006-07 season with an audition for The Talented Mr. Ripley for Susie Baer-Collins at the Playhouse.  My string of really good auditions stayed intact as I had another solid showing.  I managed to differentiate my Ripley from other actors by emphasizing his ability to think on his feet and not backpedaling whenever caught in a lie.  I would just cover the lie with another lie.

When the audition ended, Susie told me I had given an excellent audition and I earned another callback.  That was exciting enough, but when Susie told me she was considering me for the role of Tom Ripley, my jaw hit the floor.  The title role.  That’s when I knew I had come a really long way.

Eight of us were called back for the show and seven of us could have easily played any of the roles.  I ended up coming up on the short end of the stick, but got a novella of a rejection from Susie who praised my audition to the heavens.

Change was definitely in the air.

Soaring, Part 2

So after a year of dramatic improvement after the awakening, I finally was sent crashing back to earth after my failure in My Three Angels.  I was disappointed, but there was no use dwelling on it.  I swallowed my heaping helping of humble pie and moved on.

I had a break of a few months before I attempted my next audition.  I pursued a role in the Playhouse production of The Underpants directed by Carl Beck.  This was my first audition for Carl since the awakening and I thought it would be a good test of my newfound powers.

I came to the Playhouse and saw I would be going toe to toe with some of the heavyweight regulars of the Playhouse.  When I got up on stage a most wondrous thing happened.

I was able to keep pace with the heavyweights.

I was on.  I was having the time of my life up there and it was funny and it was working.  No matter how this audition turned out, I knew I could leave with my head held high.  A few days later, I got the rejection slip BUT there was a twist this time.  Carl had actually taken the time to write a little note in the margins and it said:

Chris,

That was your strongest audition.  Lots of confidence.  Good work.

Not a bad second prize at all.  And it helped to rebuild the confidence that had been lost by the debacle of My Three Angels.  I rode this confidence into my next audition which was Starkweather over at the Circle Theatre.

This play was based on the infamous serial killer, Charles Starkweather, and had been written by Doug Marr, one of the Circle’s founders.  Doug had actually asked me to audition for the show and I gave a fairly good showing of myself at the audition.  I didn’t hear anything for several weeks and decided that I must have been rejected.

In the meantime, I had read a play called Biloxi Blues which was going to be the season finale in the Howard-Drew Theatre over at the Omaha Playhouse.  This was an unusual cast because, with the exception of one or two characters, the cast is comprised entirely of young people, and I mean really young.  The characters are teenagers and I was 28 at the time, so I didn’t think I had much of a chance.

On the other hand, I was unusually young looking.  Even today, I still have a babyface, even though the gray in my temples has hopefully neutralized it to an extent.  As you read in part 1, my “young look” often cost me roles that I was actually old enough to play in years, if not appearance.  At the eleventh hour, I decided, “What the heck?”  I had absolutely nothing to lose in the attempt.

The show was guest directed by Susan Clement-Toberer, the artistic director of the Blue Barn Theatre.  I had actually auditioned for her twice before, but neither audition was much to scream about.

My first audition for her had been for a show called The Dark at the Top of the Stairs and it occurred during the time frame I was suffering from depression.  It was actually one of my stronger auditions during that period, due to the fact that I was auditioning for a character nearly as depressed as I was, but it still wasn’t that great.

The second time had been for a show called Three Tall Women over at the Blue Barn and my audition bombed.  It was the only time I had ever choked during an audition.  I had brought my own monologue and when I got onstage, I grew very self-conscious and flopped on my face.

With my new confidence in my powers, I was ready to turn that around.

And what a turnaround!!

For the first, and only, time in my avocation, it was me and everybody else.  I was quite clearly in a class of my own and could not be touched.  Susan would have me read pages at a time and forget to stop me because she “got lost in what I was doing”.

When I had signed up for the audition, I had, again, limited myself to just 2 characters.  After I had read a couple of times, Susan asked me if I were willing to consider other roles.  I saw the message instantly and told her that I would be open to other roles as they were all interesting.

Shortly thereafter, I got my first proper callback.  The callback was more hotly contested, but I considered myself in the upper echelon of things.  When I finished, I thought I had a really good shot at getting cast.

While I was waiting for a response, I suddenly got a message from the Circle Theatre regarding Starkweather.  It turned out they had wanted to cast me the entire time, but forgot to offer me a role!!!  I told the theatre that I would let them know after the weekend as I had auditioned for another show and I wanted to hear how that would turn out.

On Sunday, Susan offered me the role of Don Carney, the wannabe singer, in Biloxi Blues.  I politely declined the offer from the Circle and was ready to embark on what would be a grand adventure.

To be continued. . .