Cut, Cut!: When Auditions Crash and Burn

I have a love/hate relationship with auditions.  On one level, they are a necessary evil; neither the kids nor their parents enjoy them at all, but they're the only way to decide who to cast in which role.  I can sympathize, as I've tried out many times for various shows, choirs, etc. during my life.  Being on the judging side of the audition is more fun and less nerve-wracking, but it can also be an exhausting, overwhelming challenge.  It is also exciting: actors' enthusiasm is contagious and seeing the kids onstage fuels an addictive anticipation of how incredible the show is going to be when it all comes together.

I love seeing kids nail their auditions, the grins on their faces make my day.  Any seasoned performer will tell you that not every try-out goes as planned, however.  There are occasional rough patches..and then there are things that give directors nightmares.

Here is some advice for parents and kids based on the crazy things I've seen in auditions:

• A fourth grader who has refused to wear anything but a bathing suit and red, sequined heels for the last 2 months and whose preferred method of verbal communication is barking like a dog probably needs some relaxation and maybe a therapist, not a rigorous rehearsal schedule.
• Do NOT corner any directors in the parking lot or follow them home after a long day of try-outs to convince them your child is the star they are looking for.  Such behavior will likely result in a restraining order rather than a lead role.
• Make sure your child learns the lyrics to his vocal piece.  The judges WILL notice if he sings "watermelon, watermelon, watermelon..."
• If you can't cry on command, don't pick a monologue that requires it.  DEFINITELY don't swipe the cinnamon breath spray from your mom's purse and spray it into your eyes right before you perform.
• A note from the pediatrician giving "permission" for your child to perform in a highly choreographed show does not change the fact that her broken leg will be in that cast for most of the rehearsals.  When the director points this out, "But she has crutches!" is not an answer.
• Being cute is great, but being able to carry a tune is mandatory.  Sorry, this is a musical.
• Adult content in monologues and vocal pieces is unacceptable.  S.ex.ual.ly graphic dancing is disturbing and wrong.  This is even more true if the child auditioning is FIVE.  The same goes for portfolio photos.
• Be careful when explaining characters to kids or your first grader may tell the directors that she wants "to be the stoned cat" in Alice in Wonderland.
• Resumes and portfolios are no place for nicknames, especially if your moniker is "Poopy Pants."
• Parents: Under no circumstance does the explantion "I forgot to take my anti-psychotics this morning" excuse your erratic or insane behavior.  EVER.

Any questions?  Remember, the audition should be memorable..but not in a way that makes me shudder.

Beware the Hula Dancing Kangaroos

 For a number of weeks the kids cast in an upcoming show at the children's theatre have been trying to learn their musical numbers with me.  One particular piece has a rhythm that's proven tricky for the wee actors, and I have tried all sorts of things to get them to grasp the counting.  Repetition is the biggest key, and so we repeat and clap and tap and snap our fingers and rap and even do a little beat boxing to practice the section in question.  We swayed our hips a lot while learning this piece.  I want it to be fun.  If it is fun, they will master it more quickly and won't feel like we are belaboring that musical piece.

I line them up at one end of the room and let them jump forward one jump on count one of each measure while they sing their parts.  This helps them learn the count and find the downbeat and allows them to hear the other vocal parts (soprano, alto, etc.) that move at different times.  It takes them the whole song to make it all the way across the room, then I have them turn around and sing/hop their way back.  It's interesting to stand before them as they do this, because it feels like they're musical kangaroos on the warpath and advancing on me quickly.  I learned to only allow this in the basement after doing it in the lobby caused a number of ceiling tiles to fall down in the lower offices.  Oopsies.  I also learned to keep ice packs in the staff freezer after Wyatt walloped Reagan in the eye while swinging his arms in huge circles as he jumped. 

They seem to have finally gotten it, which thrills me.  I hear them humming and tapping it while being fitted and measured by wardrobe, while waiting backstage for their cues, and while munching away on apple slices in the green room. For a few weeks the problem rhythm has been the pulse of the theatre, I even noticed some of the office workers humming it after they'd heard the children practicing in the parking lot with me.  Yes, we practice in the parking lot. With sidewalk chalk. We draw huge musical staves and use the chalk for all sorts of things that truly pertain to what we're doing. 

Sometimes I wonder if I'm regarded a bit like Maria in the Sound of Music, because my teaching techniques get some weird looks and amused comments.  I often get the kids last, after they've beaten a scene to death upstairs. They spend hours having to be still and watch each other repeat the same lines over and over until the head director is happy with the angles of their bodies, the expression in their voices, and the look on their faces.  They're told to do it again.  And again.  Now do it again.  Don't slouch.  Stop whining.  Do it again.  One more time.  So close, let's try again. 

By the time I get the kids they're hungry, fatigued, and sick of being told to keep still.  I keep water and simple snacks on hand.  I give them wiggle time and an occasional minute or two to chat with their friends.  If everyone looks especially downtrodden that day, we often take a minute to groan as loudly and pathetically as we can.  Eye rolling and foot stomping are optional, but always encouraged.  I'm told by other adults who work for the theatre that the woman who worked with the children before me kept them seated in chairs in the rehearsal room for the entirety of each practice.  I'm told by the children that she "was the meanest ever" and "yelled a lot."  I bet!  I'd yell a lot too if I had to keep them corralled like that.  Initially we're very much tied to the piano, but once they really know most of their parts, we can branch out. 

Last weekend I watched the kids perform the tricky song on stage and I have to say, it was excellent.  They've got the rhythm.  However, some of them bounce a bit on the first count of some measures.  There is also one particular section where the children all sway their hips in unision, just slightly, but it looks as if they're bursting into an impromptu hula dance.  Pierre, who works with the adults on music, grinned when he heard me murmur "Oh dear," under my breath as the unanticipated hula dance began.  He sees more of my teaching antics techniques than anyone else as he's often in the rehearsal room too.  I'm not worried about these little hang ups, we've got more than enough time to right them before opening night.  Until then, beware of the hula dancing kangaroos.