It’s 8:30 (in the evening) and I just woke up; the small cat still stretched out on my chest where the warmth and sound of my heartbeat makes him feel safe. Office Space was just wrapping up on the TV (Stephen Root; what a great characterization) followed on by You’ve Got Mail. Decided to go downstairs and make some tea. A week full of appointments and a Saturday that begins at 5 a.m. eventually catches up to you. It caught up to me about three hours ago.
All week I kept thinking I needed to cancel something or I wasn’t going to make it through today’s audition. My stringout on the Army recruiting video looked like hash. I was facing a fifth rewrite on a 30-page boating safety guide for the Coast Guard. The dance and fitness association wanted me to redo the creative treatment for the conference video we have to put together for them in two weeks. A Homeland Security client that dodged six phone calls last month suddenly called back and said he was ready to move on his project – as in now. Then there was lunch with Lorna, meet with the financial adviser, run by the wig shop and thrift store in case I needed to compensate for what my closet lacked in “grandmother.” Oh, and take most of the menagerie to the vet and show sympathy for my husband who’s still down with a cold.
The thing was, I was too busy to call and reschedule anything and somehow it all got done – although big cat did barf on me on the way home from the vet. Revenge.
The audition went okay. It’s for a short film about loss and family. The location was northwest of Baltimore so I allowed myself plenty of time to get there (Hell, I even got the car washed on the way!). Picked up the sides two hours before my appointment and memorized the two-page scene over lunch. I wonder if my choices were too “earnest” though. Perhaps I should have taken it down a notch.
I had the monologue ready, but the director didn’t ask for it. That means I have time to work on it in class and get it down more solid than it is right now. The drama instructor thinks it might be a keeper with a few edits. That would give me one requisite contemporary dramatic monologue to go with my classic monologue (Queen Margaret from Henry the 6th, Part 3: “Great Lords! Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, but cheerly seek how to redress their harms...”) I wanted to do “France is alone and God is alone” from Saint Joan, but instructors have not been supportive of that idea. Well, Uta Hagen said you can never be too old to play Saint Joan, you can only be too young. (I’ve seen college students do Saint Joan on You Tube. She’s right.) Still need to find a comedy monologue.
Should hear about the film tomorrow, one way or the other.
For now I sit here sipping tea and feeling groggy and indulging in one of the scones my in-laws sent from the Athenaeum Bakery in Pasadena – dried plums, pecans, crystallized sugar all over the top. I’m joining Weight Watchers tomorrow to get rid of the eight pounds I’ve put on over the past year. This is called self-delusion.
Have as many monologues available to you as I can (I'm currently working with eight or nine classical and three or four contemporary, but have 25+ classical/15+ contemporary that can be brought back up to performance level with brush up, and I definitely don't have enough contemporary.) Do the monologues you like as well as those that are recommended, e.g., the St. Joan. Even if you don't use them for audition, having them in your soul will be very helpful, though chances are good you'll find yourself using them for audition. You should have enough monologues under your belt that you chuckle at actors who are worried about finding 'a pair.'
ReplyDeleteYou also need monologues that are not anywhere near as intense as Margaret. Too much heat in the audition room gives auditors no air to breathe.
Also: start looking to the youngsters for inspiration rather than let yourself be irritated by them. There's a lot to learn from their brashness and naivete.