#OldHeadshotDay

Apparently this was a thing yesterday. Which is nice, because I had these taken right after I moved to Chicago for all the auditions I never went on because my job was too life-sucking and now I have an opportunity to use them:

I got catht!

I just got cast in a delightfully odd little play called Fuddy Meers. Even though I wasn’t planning on auditioning until the very last minute last night.

There are three really funny parts for men my age and I got what I think is the funniest one. Though the character has a limp. Because he's literally called Limping Man. And he’s blind in one eye. But he's curiously not also called Blind Limping Man. Whatevs. Oh--and he has a pronounced lisp. Becauthe go big or go home.

In any case, I’m getting the feeling that there won’t be a tap number.

Going for it

So this afternoon I let myself get talked into auditioning tonight for a show at Theatre Cedar Rapids that I knew virtually nothing about. And after a quick read-through of the Wikipedia synopsis and an obligatory shot of the theater’s gorgeous façade, I went in to give the least-prepared audition of my extremely short non-musical career. I couldn’t fall back on my graceful port de bras or my mad tapping skillz to mask my woeful uncertainties about my plain-old acting skills, so I just dove in and did whatever occurred to me to do in my cold readings ... and I left feeling pretty confident that at the very least I got in some solid auditioning practice. And I’ll know in 12 hours if I got anything more than just practice.

Unfortunately, it never goes out

I hadn’t counted on being able to stop at home between work and my Sunday in the Park with George callback tonight. Now I’m tearing through my meager sartorial trousseau and obsessively rethinking my callback wardrobe. I need to look stuffy and reserved enough to be a plausible Jules yet athletic and devastatingly handsome enough to be discovered and fanboy profiled in some dreary socialistic periodical. I think I’ll wear something nice with swans.

The end of every show brings with it a certain sense of loss:

You miss the people you worked with, you miss the experiences of learning and creating and performing you shared, you miss the thrill of being on stage doing something you love and hopefully something you’re proud of ... and you plain-old miss having something to DO with your free time.

One Man, Two Guvnors was the fourth in a string of shows I’ve LOVED being a part of this year. And now it’s over. The set and costumes and props have been struck, the huggy goodbyes have been shared among the cast and crew and director, the small mountains of socks and T-shirts and other potential necessities I always keep backstage are being washed as we speak, and my Google calendar already says HAIRCUT! at 5:30 tomorrow. I’m lucky in that I went right to another audition tonight to keep my theater-magic momentum going and I start this week on a massive pro bono book-editing project I’ve taken on, so I won’t have the letdown I could. But I already miss the inspiredly wacky people I’ve spent almost every night for the last eight weeks with and I especially miss the upper-class British twit Stanley Stubbers, who gave me my first and no doubt last opportunity to say “I bunked on physics and spent my lessons in the radiation cupboard trying to make my penis glow” every night on stage with a straight face staring into the eyes of a dangerously funny actor who constantly had me THIS CLOSE to cracking up no matter which of us said what. And that last sentence pretty much sums up everything I love about being in a constant parade of shows. So I’m going to bed a little sad about everything I’m going to miss about the whole experience of this show but more than thrilled that I’m lucky enough to have so much to miss. Good night!

Memorize me a little

One Man, Two Guvnors is over, the set is struck, the celebratory pizza is on its way ... all that’s left is to delete my lines that I recorded on my phone. Except for the Bobby monologue — it’s for tonight’s Revival There Company Ragtime/Bridges of Madison County/Sunday in the Park with George repertory season audition and I might save it for future reference. Even though I’ve totally aged out of the Bobby zone. But I’m still thankful for being alive.

Revival Theatre Company repertory season auditions are tomorrow!

I'm thinking of wearing brocade and crewel.

One audition, two scenes

I just auditioned for my first non-musical in over two years. Which means I couldn't rely on my mad tapping skillz or ironically croon a girl song (which is ironic, see, because I'm a boy) as a theatrical device to give the illusion that I'm creative and resourceful and positively visionary and therefore an indispensable artistic asset to any final casting decision.

No. I just had to act -- the one stage-play-craft thing I'm least confident about -- tonight. In a British accent, no less. And -- unlike a month ago when I auditioned for Grease and my ONE JOB was to use the Midwestern American accent I've had FOR 49 YEARS but NOOOOO! I suddenly out of nowhere started talking in a freaking SOUTHERN ACCENT that WOULD NOT GO AWAY -- tonight I stayed as British as I could ever hope to sound for the entire audition, no doubt in part because of the seven British lines I just had -- including "wanker"! giggle giggle -- in Billy Elliot.

So now all that's left to do is madly obsess over every word I stumbled on and every probably catastrophic artistic auditiony choice I made tonight until there's a callback or a cast list posted on Wednesday. Y'all.

I think I feel a song coming on ...

1. Audition season is coming up
2. I just discovered I can buy sheet music online
3. Even relatively obscure show tunes
4. I can even pick the key I want
5. And print it right from my screen
6. I am very excited about this
7. My credit cards are very worried about this
8. Because there are lots and lots of show tunes out there that I have yet to sing
9. Yes, I'm still very gay
10. And yes, I still hate sharps

NAILED IT

I just auditioned for Grease by singing "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" with a mustache and reading for Kenicke with a rogue Southern accent that popped up out of nowhere and WOULDN'T GO AWAY.

So I'm pretty sure the role of Li'l Abner is mine for the taking.