The audition today was for a decent role, in a more than decent theatre company. This more than decent theatre company decided to give their “Literary Associate” the task of holding auditions. If I were a director I would be at the auditions. If I was a director who already knew whom I was hiring to play so and so role, in so and so production—but by Equity rules—was forced to hold auditions, I would not be at said audition.
It’s strange. For so many years I auditioned for these “Associate Directors” “Assistant Directors” “Associate to the Assistant’s Director” (which makes you, like, a “friend”), and felt the energy of my monologue go out the window. I would start off focused, precise, playful, and as the monologue progressed—had this feeling as though the person watching had quietly left the room. My peripheral would seek out the human body and it would be there (behind the desk), so I’d plug along giving the monologue all I’d got. Then, again. This feeling of energy landing in a void, this feeling that nobody’s watching, and I finally figured out what that was. These “Associate/Assitant-to-the-person-who-was-supposed-to-be-here-but-couldn’t Directors” had as much say in casting as I have in Haiti.
The reason I became discouraged with Equity auditions? I don’t like doing theatre in my closet.