Simply the best

First of all, I have to say that having a good audition is a good feeling.

Having a great one, however, is like a natural high: uncontrollable smile, lightness in your step, the occasional "yes!" elbow/arm pump gesture.  Not outwards, but inwards towards myself.  Exciting, warm, almost incoherent to the outside world.

That happened to me yesterday.

I realized recently I've been, dare I say it, afraid to take risks.  For a silly fear of feeling vulnerable.  Sometimes I find myself wondering about why I do this, and recollecting that it's because I want to tell a story, and I want people to remember that they are not alone.  I've felt like I've had a wall up.  Not just towards my career, but also what I watched.

It is time to say good-bye to that.  Because honestly yesterday I had a good audition, then I had a GREAT audition.

So, I went in for a local theater company and when I was towards the end of the side I knew the exact moment that I started to push, and they knew it too.  But I was given some really great direction, it was playable, you know?  After I got their direction, I took a moment.  In that moment something allowed me to relax and just DO the scene.

There's a quote from the movie American Beauty that goes: "It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself."  During that read I really felt the emotions, for the first time in a long time, and it was exhilarating.  Dare I say, that was a good audition.

After that, I transported myself to another local theater company to sing and maybe read some sides.  Feeling really good about the other audition I strapped on my heels, tossed on some blush, and looked over my lyrics.  The elderly man who was wise-cracking the whole time (it was adorable....and comforting) was impressed by how early I was.  He took me upstairs and I saw the two people in there and I remember in my head saying "I'm going to nail this".  With that confidence I had one of the best auditions of my life.  I don't want to go into too much detail, but they seemed surprised and pleased.

Not knowing whether or not it will come through is difficult about having knock-out auditions.  They could have seen someone much more suited for the role before me, or I may not have been what they were looking for in this particular show.  What I do know is that they will remember me, especially after I send them a "Thank You" in the mail.  All I can do at this point is use that connection to the best of my ability.

Love and all that jazz,
-Cindy

Becoming more "castable"...

Is that even a real word?  What does it even mean?

I've been auditioning and working in Philly since I graduated from Arcadia in 2008.  I remember when I first got out I said to myself, start small and work your way up.

Well here we are, three and change years later and I'm still working my way up.  Not that I'm being naive, I'm "new", and of course I'm lucky to have had to work I've had, and the auditions I've had.  But I'm not easy to pigeonhole...

Maybe that's what "castable" means?  Easily put into a category...or something.

At any rate, I've begun to wonder what my next step up will be in my acting career.  Grad school research is in the works for applications next fall, which I think is a wise step.  After all, we can't all just expect to walk into an audition and nab that part.  It takes work, experience, and connections.

So, as I've been thinking about this, I'd like to share my ponderings...

1. The issue with weight...
Unfortunately, especially for women, it takes...how shall I say this...you're not easy to cast when you're curvy.  When you're a curvy woman, you don't get considered as often.  When you're a curvy woman, you walk into auditions with skinny girls and say to yourself...am I the "risk" they might be willing to take?  You can always say "you MAKE them take that risk", but honestly we don't have control over that.
It's become a really sad state of affairs when being a size 10 is a "risk"...when a size 10 is "plus size".  What?  I don't consider myself plus size...
But it's true.  Of course not ALL the time, but with bigger companies and national tours, it matters.  Size unfortunately matters.
I'm sorry I can't fit into the 25 inch waist costume you've been dreaming about reusing.  I don't think I've had a 25 inch waist since I was 12....seriously.
Anyway, in my journey towards trying to become more "castable", I've decided that while I've enjoyed being a curvy woman for most of my life, I've begun to envision myself as a smaller woman.  I've had a lot of people say I don't need to, but ultimately my opinion is the one that matters.  Not only do I want to compete for roles in NYC, DC, and film, but I would love for once in my life to go to a beach in the summer in a skimpy bikini and feel really awesome.
Call me shallow!  Call me rude and selfish!  Whatever.  I can't speak for everyone, but when speaking for myself, to be able to try on a size 6 jean and having it fit would feel really good.  I would like to go to a costume fitting and have my hips measure less than 40".  I would like to be smaller.  And I'll let you know if in fact I get considered more often.

2. The question of the hair cut...
I used to have stark white short hair...

The lovely and talented Ms. Emilie Krause and I in "Midsummer..."

After a meeting with my agent about how to get more auditions and work, she said "you have a funky look".
Funky.   Ick...I don't like that word and I didn't really understand her.  I had actually dyed it for "Midsummer..." and it turned out that I really liked the look, and apparently so did some casting directors.  I got cast over and over in shows where I would ask them "May I dye my hair?" and the answer was always a resounding "no!".
Because my hair was that color and style for so long I decided to get new headshots taken.

Sultry, no?

Personally, I love my headshot and I wouldn't change a thing about it.  But after that meeting with my agent it got me thinking...maybe my hair cut, of all things, is limiting me?  After being away for the summer and away from my fabulous stylist, the roots were eating my scalp and it was time to make a change. Now it's longer and darker and now I have a delicious headshot with short white hair.  What a dilemma!

I'm happy!  Call me in!

Recently I've added the above shot to my resume so when they look at my HS/R they can say "ooh!  She's so versatile!  Look how well she pulls off those looks.  Let's call her in".

I guess the best that you can do is try to represent who you really are in your shots.  I think what casting directors need to understand is that looks change, and when I walk into an audition, please don't scowl at the headshot like I've mislead you.  I promise you, I won't let you down.  I can guarantee that one will be, at the very least, entertained by my auditions.

3. The issue of being a diverse performer...

I know, you're thinking "Isn't that the best option for an actor?  To be able to do everything?".  Eh, kind of.  While I think it's important to know how to move well, how to handle verse and heightened language, etc...in my experience having a lot of little things confuses directors.  They don't know how to break it down and sometimes it looks like they may blow a fuse looking at your resume.

Again, if we're using the idea that "castable" is "categorizing" then should we be focusing them on certain aspects of our training?  Or should we tell them "I can do anything!".  

If they get too overwhelmed, they don't know what to do, and they don't know what to call you in for.  Personally, and this is just me saying this, I think that it's good to have training on your resume, but what's more important is to showcase a variety of types of performing you've done.  That way they can look at the resume and say "well she's trained in stage combat but just look at the array of work she's accomplished!  Let's call her in".

Notice how my goal is to just get called in?  I believe that's a safe bet for right now, being someone so young and about to enter the larger acting pool.  Just call me in!  Seriously, you really won't be disappointed.  Maybe that's the best we can hope for...

When you love the show but hate the play...

This is a conundrum.  I've run into this issue several times while going to see plays in the city.  I love my fellow actors (almost always, especially this season, I've been very surprised and pleased by everyone's work) and I usually really like the direction.  But plays, especially contemporary ones, have a hard time deciding two things...
1. What the entire point of the piece is
2. What the play is trying to do

Last night, I saw Flashpoint Theatre's production of The Fat Cat Killers with Sean Lally (Michael), Robert DaPont (Steve), and Damon Bonetti (Dave Russel), beautifully directed by Noah Herman.  I thought the production was very well done.  The sound was spot on, use of 2001 alt rock such as Beck and Soul Coughing was definitely the correct choice, splicing each transition with a spattering of nostalgia and moodiness.  The lighting was great too, it seemed as though the room was breathing along with the scenes and actors.  Fantastic.  The actors, while this was a small piece, did some of the best work I've seen them do.  All three were loose and acting on impulse.  No one was rigid or making bizarre choices just for the sake of it.  I empathized with all three characters very much.  It made sense and I would say that the first 60 minutes of the play landed.

Then there was this odd "false ending" as I'll call it.  Robert, playing the part of Steve, came forward with a monologue that really made the audience go "ah!  Yes, this is the point of the piece! Yay!".  It was quite "Heathers-esque".  While his monologue was outrageous, it worked with the rest of the play.  Because of the nature of the piece, an obvious commentary on the 99% and corporate greed, having the play "end" with a monologue about taking control and doing something dangerous and risky worked for me.  The lights went down, the audience clapped, and we expected a curtain call.

However, there was an extra 25 minutes tacked onto the piece that made me go "huh?".  The "epilogue" (so it seemed...) backtracked on all the headway the characters made throughout the piece.  The "end" monologue all of a sudden didn't have a true meaning and that disappointed me.  As someone who really feels the 99% idea, I felt that the playwright spent the first hour of the piece giving validity to the movement, and the last 30 minutes taking that away.  Quite frankly, it pissed me off.

Maybe that was the point of the last 30 minutes, but it certainly shouldn't have been the point of the whole play.  We all know that corporations "win" (for lack of a better term) in this world right now, shouldn't he (the playwright) have let Michael and Steve "win" in this piece?  If it's a piece about empathy towards people who have no where else to go and are in dire situations, let them prevail for once.  At least give us that in the theatre.  We all have to leave the theatre and go back to reality.  At least let us live in that imaginary world for just a moment.

It's an odd problem to have.  You really love the production over all but the play is questionable.  You may ask, "How is that possible?  To love the production but can't stand the play?".  That's a good question, one I've been pondering myself.  I suppose sometimes you deal with a terrible script and you have to make it your own.

Okay, I'll comment on it from the inside out.  I've worked with some terrible scripts.  Most recently was "The Diary of Anne Frank" with EgoPo.  I'll be honest, I couldn't stand the play.  It was an updated script written by Wendy Kesselman (it was better than the previous version...trust me).  The transitions and scenes seemed as though they completely catered to the broadway production.  Scenes were stilted and confusing.  The dialogue was far from natural.  Characters said things out of the blue that really made no sense.

Mrs. Frank: How can we thank you?  How can we really-
Mr. Kraler: I never thought I'd see the day when a man like Mr. Frank would have to go into hiding. (exits)

Wha?  That's just one of many examples.  As an actor, it's your job to make sense of them.  In fact, it's your responsibility.  In order to tell the story, you must be honest.  Occasionally, you can get away with fudging a line here and there.  For example, the actor playing Mr. Frank, Rob Kahn, realized that most of his lines began with "and" and "but", so there was an obvious lack of editing from the playwright there.  So, Rob got away with making it sound more natural by taking out a few of those.

But what do you do when you fundamentally disagree with the course of the play?  You find the objectives and tactics that make the most sense and you dive in.  You must.  That's the best solution I've come up with.  Make it honest, and make it yours.  The audience will respond how they respond.  You have no control over that.  Just tell the story as best as you can. You cannot take account for what the play does, you can only take account for how you deal with it.

I must finish by going back and saying kudos to Flashpoint and everyone involved.  I really thoroughly enjoyed my night of theatre...even if I didn't like the play.