"Tomorrow will have an island. Before night
I always find it. Then on to the next island.
These places hidden in the day separate
and come forward if you beckon.
But you have to know they are there before they exist.
Some time there will be a tomorrow without any island.
So far, I haven't let that happen, but after
I'm gone others may become faithless and careless.
Before them will tumble the wide unbroken sea,
and without any hope they will stare at the horizon.
So to you, Friend, I confide my secret:
to be a discoverer you hold close whatever
you find, and after a while you decide
what it is. Then, secure in where you have been,
you turn to the open sea and let go."
—William Stafford
Friday, April 18, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Brain Candy
Since I've now dedicated this blog to my adventures in the arts, I thought I'd kick off with a little artsy-fartsy idea. My dad sent me a link to a great website the other day, and if you haven't heard about it, you should go there now. It's called TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design) and it's a right-brained human's mecca. The video below is a small excerpt from one of their annual conferences. This particular video is about 24 minutes long, but well, well worth it.
Just sit back, relax, and engage...
I'll be posting little bits and pieces of brain candy like this from here on out, so you can be sure to exercise your right brain functions every now and then. I mean, your arts education is just as important as mine, you know.
Just sit back, relax, and engage...
I'll be posting little bits and pieces of brain candy like this from here on out, so you can be sure to exercise your right brain functions every now and then. I mean, your arts education is just as important as mine, you know.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
A Comfortable Three Minutes
It was a long process, applying for graduate schools.
It all started over a pint, as most adventures do. (Thanks Thom!) First came the decision to apply, knowing full well that if I got in, I was headed back to Debt Central. Comfortable with that fate (and completely sober) I made a list of degree curricula preferences, did my research, and selected seven schools to which I applied. After selecting the most competitive programs, I filled out application after application, agonizing over application letters, searching for the magic words that would secure my acceptance into each school. I begged for recommendations (Thanks Ally, Peter, and Jeanie!) and paid fee after fee for audition slots. I had a binder. A binder with colored tabs and organized information on each school. I carried that binder with me everywhere for five months.
Then came the prep work.
Searching for the right monologues took nearly three months of selection and dismissal. Pouring over play after play, I tried to pair two pieces that would show my full range of capabilities. The goal: in under three minutes, prove that you can perform work that embodies every extreme of emotion and style. This includes but is not limited to classical, contemporary, comedic, dramatic, solemn, frantic, angry, sad, happy, disgusted, surprise, betrayal, love, hate, movement, stillness, exceptional vocal ability, extreme imagination, and (of course) truth.
I finally found four pieces that would become the repetitive dialogue of the next two months. (Everlasting gratitude to Jeanie Forte for coaching me into what will become the next chapter of my life.) One school required a scene. (Chad, thank you for the gift of your talent.) Two solid months of rehearsing for a three minute stint.
Herein lies the rub of the theatre industry: you have three minutes to prove yourself to your auditor. But, within the first 10 seconds of your audition, an auditor will have decided whether or not you are right for the part. Forget interviews. This industry doesn't do 'interviews' - you have to show them your focus, professionalism, intelligence, imagination, and sense of humor in less time than it takes to fry an egg. Your career is dependent on first impressions and pretending to be someone you're not for 180 seconds. And you can take comfort in the fact that the three-minute 'interview' standard will allow auditors to 'interview' five times as many 'applicants' who look and sound just. like. you.
Graduate auditions are a toss-up - sometimes you get a comfortable three minutes, other schools are exceedingly generous and chat with you about your career goals for a few minutes afterwards. Programs that are admitting students for work with a repertory company will generally do three minute rounds, as they are looking for type. The more academic schools will consider your intelligence factor in a longer round. The New School was innovative: prepare a scene, a classical monologue, and be prepared to chat about anything under the sun with your auditor.
As grad school Audition Weekend approached, I grew nervous. Three days spent traversing back and forth from San Francisco, holed up in a 9-story building swarming with other actor hopefuls left me drained and full of doubt. After initial auditions, schools generally invite their favorites back for a school visit. This is called "Callback Weekend". There were some auditions that I knew would not result in callback weekend. Others, seeming promising, baffled me when rejection letters arrived in the mail.
Nearly two months of waiting (the agony!) finally resulted in a small success: the New School wanted me to come for a callback in March. Immediately, travel and lodging were arranged (thank you my NY friends!) and I was thrown back into prep work, as the school was requesting different audition material. Two weeks leading up to the callback were spent in nauseous anticipation and fitful nights of sleep.
Now, let me preface the end of this story (or the beginning?) by saying that the callback weekend was an exceptional experience. I was quite proud of my performance, and thrilled with the prospect of studying with such a talented group of artists. I could go into detail about the whole weekend, but the most important aspect was what I took away from the experience. I learned that the arts are still alive and necessary amongst the older generation, that there are faculty and staff who believe in the power of theatre, and that I am now going to embark on an incredible three years which will change my life.
It all started over a pint, as most adventures do. (Thanks Thom!) First came the decision to apply, knowing full well that if I got in, I was headed back to Debt Central. Comfortable with that fate (and completely sober) I made a list of degree curricula preferences, did my research, and selected seven schools to which I applied. After selecting the most competitive programs, I filled out application after application, agonizing over application letters, searching for the magic words that would secure my acceptance into each school. I begged for recommendations (Thanks Ally, Peter, and Jeanie!) and paid fee after fee for audition slots. I had a binder. A binder with colored tabs and organized information on each school. I carried that binder with me everywhere for five months.
Then came the prep work.
Searching for the right monologues took nearly three months of selection and dismissal. Pouring over play after play, I tried to pair two pieces that would show my full range of capabilities. The goal: in under three minutes, prove that you can perform work that embodies every extreme of emotion and style. This includes but is not limited to classical, contemporary, comedic, dramatic, solemn, frantic, angry, sad, happy, disgusted, surprise, betrayal, love, hate, movement, stillness, exceptional vocal ability, extreme imagination, and (of course) truth.
I finally found four pieces that would become the repetitive dialogue of the next two months. (Everlasting gratitude to Jeanie Forte for coaching me into what will become the next chapter of my life.) One school required a scene. (Chad, thank you for the gift of your talent.) Two solid months of rehearsing for a three minute stint.
Herein lies the rub of the theatre industry: you have three minutes to prove yourself to your auditor. But, within the first 10 seconds of your audition, an auditor will have decided whether or not you are right for the part. Forget interviews. This industry doesn't do 'interviews' - you have to show them your focus, professionalism, intelligence, imagination, and sense of humor in less time than it takes to fry an egg. Your career is dependent on first impressions and pretending to be someone you're not for 180 seconds. And you can take comfort in the fact that the three-minute 'interview' standard will allow auditors to 'interview' five times as many 'applicants' who look and sound just. like. you.
Graduate auditions are a toss-up - sometimes you get a comfortable three minutes, other schools are exceedingly generous and chat with you about your career goals for a few minutes afterwards. Programs that are admitting students for work with a repertory company will generally do three minute rounds, as they are looking for type. The more academic schools will consider your intelligence factor in a longer round. The New School was innovative: prepare a scene, a classical monologue, and be prepared to chat about anything under the sun with your auditor.
As grad school Audition Weekend approached, I grew nervous. Three days spent traversing back and forth from San Francisco, holed up in a 9-story building swarming with other actor hopefuls left me drained and full of doubt. After initial auditions, schools generally invite their favorites back for a school visit. This is called "Callback Weekend". There were some auditions that I knew would not result in callback weekend. Others, seeming promising, baffled me when rejection letters arrived in the mail.
Nearly two months of waiting (the agony!) finally resulted in a small success: the New School wanted me to come for a callback in March. Immediately, travel and lodging were arranged (thank you my NY friends!) and I was thrown back into prep work, as the school was requesting different audition material. Two weeks leading up to the callback were spent in nauseous anticipation and fitful nights of sleep.
Now, let me preface the end of this story (or the beginning?) by saying that the callback weekend was an exceptional experience. I was quite proud of my performance, and thrilled with the prospect of studying with such a talented group of artists. I could go into detail about the whole weekend, but the most important aspect was what I took away from the experience. I learned that the arts are still alive and necessary amongst the older generation, that there are faculty and staff who believe in the power of theatre, and that I am now going to embark on an incredible three years which will change my life.
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