#9. Holland Productions: Mistakes Madeline Made

Joe gave me a ride on the vespa, making this the second audition I've gone to by vespa. We were both wearing nice shirts. Me, not because I wanted to looked nice, but because I was too lazy to change out of my interview clothes.

The Factory was full of familiar faces. Kenny Fuentes from CoLab, Rory Kulz who played some weirdos in Family (de) Values, Mel Garber who artistically associates with 11:11, and some other dudes.

Joe printed out the sides we'd be auditioning with. I looked at sides for all the male roles. Joe pointed out Wilson to me, because I'm pretty good at playing socially deficient weirdos. I was like, "NO, I'm gonna read for the sexy, stupid artist."

So I did. There was a bevy of ladies in the audition room, including the director Krista, also from Family (de) Values. I was reading and everyone was laughing - man, auditioning for comedies is great when everyone actually has a sense of humor. I read it a few times. And then I was told to read for Wilson.

I came out and told Joe, "They asked me to read for Wilson."

He was like, "You saw that comin'."

And I was like, "Yes."

And then I forgot to give 'em my headshot.



2 headshots still remain.

#8. Bad Habit: Durang/Durang

Chelsea and I motored over to the audition on Jeff Goldblum, her vespa. The audition was at the Cambridge YMCA in Central Square. The Awesome 80s Prom has rehearsed there in the children's room several times.

They threw some name tags on us and we chilled, played Dissidia and looked at all of the children's drawings hung up on the wall.

When the stage manager came to get me, I stood up and realized that I hadn't gone over my monologue even once, not even in my head. I decided to just breathe and let the lines come to me. I'd done it enough times.

The stage was set for Quills, which I'm told is great. Three dudes were sitting there, I heard their names, and I didn't have to introduce myself or my monologue because I had written those things down for them already. I did Andrew's monologue again. I played the ending a bit - I was already angry, so I had no choice but to get even angrier before the end of it.

I didn't expect to be called back the next night at the same location. So was Chelsea, and our companion Silas. Chelsea read one part and was offered the role immediately.

I stayed for nearly three hours and didn't feel that great about any of the three parts I read for. I had a lot of fun with the first role, a monologue for this fellow with a split personality, but I read the next two sides with other actors and as time went on I was just getting more and more tired and couldn't really give them the attention they deserved.

Also, I didn't realize the one guy was Southern when I read for him, I thought he was just dumb.



2 headshots remain.

Family (de)Values opens tonight!

Happy Medium Theatre's Family (de)Values opens tonight at The Factory Theatre, featuring Steve Martin's WASP and the Boston premiere of Jessica Goldberg's REFUGE.

Refuge is more important because that's the one I'm in! I feel like it's been no time at all since I started rehearsing, but all that time that I barely remember has been completely worth it. These guys are more than A-okay, they're great, smart and classy. Well, they're great anyway.

Get your tickets, stupid!

#8. C1: The Aliens

My roommate gave me Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, which I read on the train ride to my audition for The Aliens. I read the chapter on icons, which suggests that the more simplified an image is, the more readily someone will identify with it.



I wondered, Isn't acting another form of cartooning? It's true that identification doesn't work the same with abstracted images on a page as when characters are portrayed by human beings before your eyes. Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet is not only unmistakably Hamlet, it's unmistakably Kenneth Branagh.

But the abstraction of human behavior does instill varying levels of sympathy. Characters are written and performed closer to or further from real people in accordance to the objectives of the artists. For the most part acting is the opposite of cartooning - realistic characters who speak and behave as actual human beings are more sympathetic than those who don't.

Of course, a character is only one part of the whole picture of theatre. Some characters are not performed with explicit realism - their lines don't overlap, their actions are calculated - so that an audience can focus on the arc of their actions as a whole. Even though they move like dolls and don't have nervous tics, a less complex character in an intelligently structured story can inspire the same sympathy as a realistic character. Mickey Rourke's Randy Robinson and Charlie Chaplin's Little Tramp are characters, but they're also devices for the story. Every character fulfills a different need. The key is context.

Along with the character descriptions for The Aliens, the producers also provided a note before the audition:

Playwright Annie Baker has asked that we look to cast "the least schmacty people you can find, the most painfully naturalistic guys out there... guys who are comfortable sitting very still and not "doing" too much.

The truth is that ever since I started acting I've been looking for a role in which I would be able to be so comfortable that I wouldn't have to put on any airs. I think I'm really good at it, as a matter of fact. This was starting to sound like it was right up my alley.

The problem with auditioning naturalistically is context. Audition monologues by nature are designed to show the biggest variations in energy and emotion in as little time as possible. They are the farthest thing from natural. So when I tried to take the edge off of Andrew's monologue, make it seem less calculated and more spontaneous, I just felt like a really boring guy talking about something really stupid.

I could've been perfect, but I had no material with which to prove it. I'm actually wondering what the hell the guys that finally do get cast will have auditioned with.

Maybe they sat still and didn't do much.



3 headshots remain.

I'm a star! On the Internet!

WITH THESE HANDS: Episode 1 from Rough Week on Vimeo.

This has been a long time comin', a collaboration with all of my colleagues who are the best in their leagues at what they do, mostly being silly as hell.

#6 & #7. Shakespeare Now: Julius Caesar

Rough Week cohort Chelsea Schmidt was sitting at the check-in table at Boston Playwrights' Theatre. Indeed, she had volunteered for that position.

I reminisced upon the many auditions I've had at BPT. As a matter of fact, I auditioned for Shakespeare Now a year ago in this same place, not too long after I started this cockamamie blog.

It was then that I realized that I would be auditioning with my Romeo monologue, the same monologue I auditioned with back then.

Before I could consider how this reflected on my abilities as an artist, it was my turn. The two auditors were very nice, and asked me all about Emerson College and all the nice things they just got that I didn't get a chance to use before I graduated.

I had been alternately bored and excited by Romeo. He meanders in with some romantic imagery which is pretty typical of the most recognizable Shakespearean lover, and you're just kinda like, "Okay." But only later do you see it's REALLY all to illustrate to the Friar how fucked up his situation is.

That switch was so juicy to me that I suddenly felt my blood getting hot, and I raised my voice and focused my intentions and did all that acting shit.

It felt good, but all I might've done was illustrate the difference between my being bored and my trying my best. When, really, I should've been doing my best the whole time.

The woman who was waiting her turn when I came out was impressed with my voice, though - or at least what she heard from the lobby.



4 headshots remain.

P.S. I also met the Boston Playwrights' dog once again. I can't tell if he liked me or not. We met once before, I think during SLAMBoston, but I forget his name. How embarrassing!

#5.5 ASP Callback

Actors' Shakespeare Project called me back for the ensemble in Henry IV. I had missed their audition nearly a month ago because I thought it was in a location other than it actually was. They must have called me back because of my StageSource audition, which didn't make sense to me - I had not performed a classical monologue, and had gone over the time limit. I love Shakespeare, but I hadn't given any indication that I'd been formally trained to perform it. Why was it they wanted to call me back?

Hey, you know what we've never taken a look at? My resume.



My resume always feels like an afterthought in the audition process, but when directors and such only get to see you for 2 minutes it must be invaluable for filling in the blanks when your face and your chosen material aren't enough to paint the whole picture of you as an artist.



Still, what in particular made me worth exploring? Was it the only three Shakespearean credits I had? True, The Shakespeare Society was the only group producing any of Bill's work at Emerson College, but they had no way of knowing that, did they? Just as they had no way of knowing that the Shakespeare Summer Arts Institute was run out of a house in suburban North Jersey.

It could be that they trusted my Emerson education. I know that many alumni and professors alike have been involved in ASP productions. And if casting can be decided by pedigree and specialized knowledge, then I was pretty sure which shard of information would've been most intriguing.



Callbacks were at Central Square Theater. It's a real nice place, but I'm embarrassed to say that I've only ever seen one production there - a show based on the dreams of a pregnant woman, which had its moments. I'm blanking on the name.



When it was my turn, I was greeted in the theater by Allyn, who introduced me to Patrick the director. I dusted off Romeo, which I hadn't used for an audition in a very long time. And then, in accordance with the email requesting "a short ditty" to go with my monologue, I sang Brazil. My voice felt hollow when it came out, but I kept a smile on my face to spite my vibrato.

Allyn asked me about my stage combat experience. I KNEW IT, I thought, and told him all about Ted Hewlett, rapiers, broadswords and quarter-staffs.

My legs were aching when I left. Had my knees been shaking? I didn't realize how nervous I was! I wanted to work with these guys more than I thought.

This was the first callback to come from my StageSource audition. Will it be the last? Beats me!



5 headshots still remain.