Coming Up...

So far, the results of my "Musical Mission: A Quest to be Cast in a Musical in the Next Year" has yielded equal parts good and super awkward auditions, leaving me with the conclusion that I should look into some voice lessons in the future, because I am seriously out of practice.

However, my musical mission must be put on hold for a while, but it's for a very good reason: I am working like a dawg.

The Play:
I am thrilled to announce that I have been cast in No Tea Productions' next show, "Space Captain: Captain of Space"!

The show is written by Jeff, co-artistic director of No Tea, and it is a Flash-Gordon-esque, 1930s space serial. This marks my fourth full production with No Tea and I couldn't be more thrilled to work with them again! I've been sporadically attending No Tea's writer's meetings since finishing Work: A Play, and I even wrote a short piece for the most recent Reading Series that we did in March. So I've been lucky enough to read the play as it was being developed and it is going to ROCK.

I play Princess Astra, daughter of the Evil King Xayno.

The show is multi-media, so it doesn't actually go up until August-September. Our first read-through is tonight, but we won't actually start rehearsals for the live-action stuff for at least a month. The majority of May and June are going to be used for filming all the video segments.

I am so FREAKING excited.

The Webseries:
Recently I was contacted by a fellow graduate of SUNY New Paltz, who was working on a webseries called, "Sherwood." It's based on the Robin Hood myths, and he wanted me to play Maid Marian. 



After a very successful IndieGoGo campaign during which we raised over $3,000 to fund the first season, we filmed the pilot in Upstate New York a couple of weeks ago. 

I get to work with a couple of guys that I haven't seen since school, as well as some very talented new blood, and one of my former professors. And I get to use a kick-ass British accent.

The Boyfriend drove up with me, along with Best Friend Jen and Fiance Jared, who were getting their engagement photos taken in New Paltz. We all stayed the night in Poughkeepsie with Best Friend Cate and her Bearded Man, and the next morning we went into New Paltz, had brunch at the Bistro (across the street from the apartment I lived in with Cate senior year) and then we all went to New Paltz to see the closing performance of Cabaret.

I got to show The Boyfriend the campus, bought some $1 LPs at Rhino Records, and caught up with my Voice and Speech teacher, Nancy.

It was nice to go back up to school and be able to answer the "What are you up to" question with something other than, "Oh... auditioning, waiting tables, you know, making money..."

Suck it New Paltz, I'm working!

The Reading
Next weekend I am taking the train up to Poughkeepsie to be in an outdoor reading of two plays written by Best Friend Cate as part of her ongoing mission to make P-Town into more of an artist community.

The Short Film
Though I know I'm booked for the next couple of months, I still happened to come across an audition for a short film on Actor's Access.

We held auditions for Space Captain at Shetler Studios on a Sunday morning, and I came in to read with the actors. The audition for the film, "Broken Identity" was the next day, in the same studio and in the same room.

And after sitting on the other side of auditions for the first time since college, I was filled with a new level of confidence, mainly because my headshots actually LOOK LIKE ME. I couldn't believe how many people walked into the room looking NOTHING like the photo they submitted.

Also, it is never a good idea to send a naked picture out for an audition. You'd think that wouldn't need to be said. You'd THINK.

So I went to the audition feeling quietly confident. I was the first to arrive, and the first to audition. The role is small, and the script is still being developed, so in addition to my monologue, they only had one line for me to read. So I read the line, took an adjustment and read it again, and then I went home and cooked my Boyfriend dinner.

And two days later I found out that I booked the role.

Booyah.

So hopefully there shall be much more to blog about in the coming months than awkward musical theatre auditions.

Musical Mission Step Two: Have a good audition

Going to a buttload of Equity Chorus Calls mean nothing if you never get into the room. Though I suppose it's a nice change from waking up at 1pm because your cat is hungry.

Monday I actually had a by-appointment audition for a musical. As in a, "we've seen your resume and we have already decided not to kick you out," kind of situation. So though my "Musical Mission" (good God I'm clever) is 24 days in, Monday was the first time I have actually been able to sing with a piano player.

By-appointment auditions continue to make me laugh. You travel for an hour on the subway, and then you're in and you're out in less than 15 minutes. It's like I was picking up my dry cleaning or something. I really showed up, dropped my stuff in the hallway, filled out the audition form, read through the sides twice, and then the monitor asked me, "are you ready?"

I sang "Stars and the Moon" from Songs for a New World, because I know it really well, I've done it a bunch before and I thought it was a smart idea since I'm out of practice, and I kind of have a cold. In the end I had trouble staying on tempo with the accompanist (Jason Robert Brown music is needlessly complicated) but I just went for it. I figured she'd catch up to me.

The director looked at my resume and said, "You haven't done any musicals? You've got a great voice."

The experience left me feeling good.

First steps towards my New Year's Resolution...

Internet, bear witness to this.

On Tuesday January 10th there is a Musical Theatre Audition Seminar with Telsey and Co. I've already registered and I'm going.

The EPA for Legally Blonde is that day at noon.

I'm going to both of them, I don't care how sleepy I am when I get up on Tuesday morning. I publish it on the internet for all to see. If I don't go, hurl tomatoes and other rotten fruit at me via email or tweet.

On Thursday January 12th there is an EPA for Jesus Christ Superstar, which I could theoretically go to before work. I don't have to be at The Restaurant until 3:30. Plenty of time to get typed out beforehand.

I'm going to it.

And the best part is an audition for another musical coming up on Monday January 23rd, which is by-appointment-only. Definitely going to that, I don't think I need the threat of being pelted by virtual fruits and vegetables to give me motivation.

So I've got all the auditions waiting for me, I've just got to get over the pesky fact that I haven't sung with a live piano player in over a year, and I lost my voice on New Year's Eve screaming off a roof in Astoria.

Minor problems.

The New Year's Resolution Blog Entry.

There was no musical theatre program at my college. That isn't to say that there were no musical theatre-themed classes at SUNY New Paltz. There were several, and I took them all. There was just no Musical Theatre concentration as far as majors go.

While I was there I took Voice for Theatre (One and Two--I took Two twice), Musical Theatre Workshop and Musical Theatre Singing Ensemble (which was this awesome choral class where we did all the big group numbers.)

All the classes focused on acting the song, and not so much on technique. This is a clip from my senior year final, when I did Sally Bowles from Cabaret.



My freshman year a friend of mine named Roxie was taking Musical Theatre Workshop. Her assignment was to hop the train down to the city one day and go to an actual audition. Best Friend Jen and I decided to go with her. We thought it would be fun.

It was an open call for Ragtime, and Jen was a big fan. We had no headshots, and so we printed our best available Facebook profile pictures onto 8 1/2 by 11 paper and slapped together resumes with High School credits on them.

The audition was at Ripley Grier, and in the grand tradition of Open Calls, we were two out of 700 hundred girls and young women, all of whom looked a lot like us. We were there all day, and we didn't get to sing. Instead we were typed out.

But it's our first audition. We are tourists in Times Square, too mesmerized by the flashy billboards and neon lights to notice that it's crowded, nobody seems to know how to walk and it kind of smells funny.

We did one musical a year at SUNY New Paltz, usually the first production of the fall semester. My freshman year auditions were the first week of classes, I really didn't know what I was doing. Sophomore year I made it to the final four girls called back to play Dot in "Sunday in the Park with George." Junior year I got Reno in "Anything Goes," and senior year I played Penny in "Urinetown."

I have a good voice, though I've never been trained, and by the time I left school I was confident that I could hold my own in a musical theatre audition. But after a few years it seemed like I was going to that Ragtime audition over and over again. Sitting in a waiting room among 700 hundred more qualified girls, with a mediocre headshot and not enough musicals on my resume.

I couldn't afford the voice lessons, and what good did they do when I just got typed out every time I got in the room? So I stopped. I was booking film work, and comedy, so I thought that might be enough.

But recently I went to go see a show that got me thinking again. An entertainer a greatly admire just released an album, the contents of which are new arrangements of old musical theatre standards. Little-known Sinatra and Sound of Music stuff, and at the end of the show I got to meet the composer who'd done all the arrangements. The whole thing got me thinking about musical theatre and how much I miss it, and I've decided that this would be my New Year's Resolution.

I am going to book a musical by next year. Maybe not Broadway, but here's hoping. And in reaching for that goal, I'm going to see about voice lessons, and dance classes. I'm really going to try to turn myself back into a musical theatre performer, hopefully minus the pretentiousness.

Game on.

Smartphones are making us dumb...

On my way to the audition at 20 Jay Street, I realized a little too late that my iPhone had given me the wrong directions, prompting me to get off the F train at Jay Street-Metrotech and walk fifteen minutes back towards Manhattan. If the people at Apple really wanted to make the Apple update appealing, they would have made Siri a 56 year old New Yorker who knows the quickest way to get anywhere, when taking the bus just isn't an option.

Once my GPS confirmed that I was going the right way, I put the phone back in my pocket and began the walk back up to DUMBO, occasionally checking the map on my phone as the uber-hipster landscape began to unfold before me. Then, as I passed Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass, I came to 20 Jay Street.

Now, I had read the email several times. I knew that this was the address. But since I got my iPhone, I have gotten into the habit of glancing at emails, websites, maps and messages without actually absorbing any information, knowing that I can just look it up. Someone will invite me out to a restaurant and I don't even look up what neighborhood it's in until I'm already on the train.

So though in my heart I knew that this was the right building, I still felt the need to check my map and confirm. The phone caught on the edge of my pocket and I felt the tell-tale yank on my headphones that signifies, "you are about to drop your very expensive phone."

Not to worry, I bought a cushion-y case to shield Tim the iPhone from my frequent dropping.

Then, I watched in horror as Tim the iPhone skidded across the cobblestones, and landed with a PLOP in the middle of the only puddle on Water Street. (The irony occurred to me only after I'd finished crying hysterically.) At least three people witnessed its demise, and all three of them stopped to offer their sympathies. New Yorkers might be callous and hard about most things, but I guess some pain in universal.

But one young man went above and beyond. He was walking behind me when it happened, and rushed to my side immediately. As I stood, completely shell-shocked, trying to wipe the phone off on my sleeve, he took me step-by-step through exactly what I needed to do to save my phone.

Turn it off immediately. DO NOT turn it back on.
Get some uncooked rice, and put the phone in it. The rice will absorb all the moisture.

"Don't lose hope," he said, "it might be okay."

And then he was gone. He's pretty much responsible for the successful recovery of Tim the iPhone (spoiler alert--he's as good as new). Wish I could thank him, but I don't know who he is.

Now, I've heard of the rice thing before, but I was so completely shocked that I never would have thought of it. So I raced into the nearest Organic Produce and Grass-Fed Meat store, bought a $5 bag of rice (thanks hipsters) and stuck my phone in it. I tied it up in the recycled plastic bag and buried it deep in my purse along with my feelings.

And then I was alone on the street. I didn't know what time it was, nor what floor of the building the audition was on. I couldn't call to ask, and the building's fancy touch-screen directory yielded nothing. I couldn't call my Mom and cry to her, and I didn't know where the York Street subway stop was. And Oh my God what if something happens to me and I can't call 911? Immediately I felt like a target for muggers and murderers (at noon on a Tuesday) as if there was a big sign above my head that read, "Can Only Call For Help Vocally."

And then I remembered: The world has existed without cell phones. When people actually had to make plans ahead of time, pick a place to meet and actually be there on time. When we didn't call each other from across the mall to say, "I'm by Maternity. I see you, turn to your left and walk straight." We used our voices and waved our arms, remember?

Furthermore, I remember the world without smartphones, when people actually had to retain information, like where subway stops were. And if you were watching TV and saw an actor you knew from some other movie, you couldn't just pull out your pocket-sized computer and gain access to a whole list of everything they've ever done. You had to remember or it would bug the crap out of you.

I checked that email four times and I still didn't trust that I knew the address.

Is this what I've become? Someone who can't remember a brunch date without a little reminder that pops up while I'm playing DoodleJump? Have a really lived in New York my entire life and still don't know how to find the freaking F train?

I found the York Street subway stop on my own, went back to Midtown, crashed The Boyfriend's office and threw myself into his arms. Then, with an hour and a half until I had to be at work, and no way of knowing when that hour and a half would be up, I went to Starbucks ordered a Grande Bold and I realized:

I need a fucking watch.

Back to the Grind

The completely insane, arduous task of being in two Manhattan Rep One Acts at the same time has finally come to an end.

Sorry I couldn't squeeze out at least one blog entry during production, but honestly, you're lucky I left the house wearing pants every day during the month of September.

To be honest, drama aside, it actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I didn't get to sleep past 9am AT ALL all month (I am not used to this), and I was running around the city with a big giant bag full or crap (be it props, costumes or clothing so I could stay at The Boyfriend's house) almost every day, and by the end I forgot what Best Friend Jen's face looked like, but I managed to keep my sanity. I'm proud to report that I made rent with no problem, thanks mainly to the fact that I picked up double shifts wherever I could. (Thanks Christine!)

Favorite day: Thursday September 22nd

• Lunch shift at The Restaurant from 10am to 5pm.
  
• Straight to Manhattan Rep (42nd and 8th) for the 6:30 performance of The Mechanicals
• 8:30pm: After the show, we go to a bar for a celebratory toast. I order a shot of Southern Comfort, toast to the production, suck it down, throw down cash and then run to the Subway
• Rehearsal for Dust in the Wind on 96th and Lex until 11pm.
• 45 minute train ride home to Queens
  
• Work in the morning. 10am
  

I am a Golden God.

From an email from the director of the Manhattan Repertory Theatre

Both shows were so much fun, though very different. I loved "The Mechanicals" because it was light-hearted and silly, and didn't take itself too seriously. And I loved "Dust in the Wind" because it was dramatic and arresting (I got to choke to death at the end--very cool)

In the end, "The Mechanicals" made it to the final round. There were four shows in the finals. Each show is in a performance series of about four or five One-Acts, and audience members assign them a rating from 1 to 5, 1 being bad, and 5 being the best. For the finals, the four shows with the highest numbered scores were chosen. Of the three other shows chosen for the finals, two had been in the same performance series as "The Mechanicals" and the third had been in the same performance series as "Dust in the Wind." So I knew everyone in the finals.

This was how I knew it was going to be fun.

We didn't win, but the whole night was so much fun anyway. At the end, Manhattan Rep had wine and champagne for us, and we had a little party.

And a bunch of us ended up going to Koreatown and renting a private karaoke room, complete with buckets of beer and a complimentary bottle of champagne.

Keep in mind for the future: If some bar ever gives you a complimentary bottle of champagne, you've ALREADY spent too much money.

Side note: My singing voice is either much better when I'm drunk, or I just THINK it is.

And NOW back to the grindstone. Next up on the agenda are a haircut and new headshots, so much of October is going to be spent making money and saving said money. But in the meantime I have about five or six hard copies of my current headshot left, so look for at least five or six more auditions in the near future!

To the castle!!

When you got nothin', you got nothin' to lose.

Two days after the last audition I wrote about, "Dust in the Wind," I had another audition for a fun play called, "The Mechanicals," about a group of high school students putting on a production of Midsummer Night's Dream. The director had sent me sides and it looked really funny.

Then, the evening before the audition, I got a phone call from Dorit, the writer and director of "Dust in the Wind."

I got the role!

I haven't done a show since "Work: a Play," so I was really, really excited. But I was bummed that I wouldn't get to go to the "Mechanicals" audition, so I emailed the director and explained the situation, and told him when the show would be performing. I figured even if I was no longer available, I might still be able to audition, maybe they'd like me and keep me in mind for other things. He told me to come in anyway.

I got there early, was the first one there, and had the good fortune to run into the director and the audition monitors while they were setting up, so I got to introduce myself. I sat outside the room while two other people came in for their audition slots, which were before mine, and I read over the scene.

I was reading for the girl who got cast as Hermia, checking the posted list with her best friend, who didn't get into the show, and the fight that ensued. Towards the end of the fight she's supposed to look at the list to find the name of the girl playing Helena. The stage direction was "quickly glances at the board."

But as I was standing outside the room, about to go in, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny if I couldn't find her name right away, and the fight comes to a screeching halt while I'm looking for it?"

It was risky. I would be going against a specific stage direction (the director was also the writer) and I would be bringing the momentum of the fight (which would have been building the entire time) to a complete halt. It would either be hilarious, or completely ruin my audition.

But then I realized that chances are, I can't even do this show in the first place because of the one I'm already doing. So what's the use of playing it safe if I'm not trying my best to get them to like me? I'm just going to do something funny. So I decided to stick with the pause until SOMEONE laughed.

I got into the room and I could tell my read was going well. They were chuckling at all the right places. Then I got to the pause (right before my last line) and instead of glancing at the board, I turned to the front of the room and stared blankly, moving my eyes from left to right as if reading very quickly, all to COMPLETE silence.

The briefest of "uh-ohs" entered my mind until finally, someone laughed.

Then I turned back to my scene partner and said the last line, but was completely drowned out by laughter.

I had a brief conversation with the director after my read in which we discussed my conflicts and availability. He was concerned because one of the performances for "Dust in the Wind" was the same day as one of the performances for "The Mechanicals." I explained that "Dust in the Wind" was part of the Manhattan Repertory Fall One-Act Play Competition. So the conflicting performance would only happen if the show got to the final round of the contest.

As soon as I said it was part of the Manhattan Rep Contest, he looked at me and said, "So is this."

We started talking about specific dates, and rehearsal times, and work schedules.

He sent me on my way and told me I'd know for sure by Sunday. I walked out onto the street and started laughing, pretty sure I'd just been cast in two shows at the same time.