OK, I know what you all want to hear about. I went to Chicago for a reason, after all. It was my intention to get into a grad school. It didn't quite go as I had thought it would.
I'm not sure exactly what I expected to happen, actually. Did I really think that I'd take the stage, perform my monologues with staggering talent, and every single university recruiter would stand up and beg me to come to their school? Well, that certainly didn't happen. In fact, the end result of my efforts there is only about a "so so" on the excellence scale.
I was told over and over again that the last thing the people organizing these things wanted was for me to be nervous. I believe that, but the format of the audition process does little to achieve that end. I know there's not really any other way to accomodate the hundreds and hundreds of head-in-the-clouds actors who desperately want to be "discovered" than putting them all in a big room and calling them in to see the auditors one by one. But something about that arrangement makes it impossible not to be nervous. I arrived at my auditions quite relaxed and confident, but after thirty minutes sitting silently in the tension, surrounded by hundreds of attractive young people (who may or may not act better than you, have more connections than you, be better looking than you, or simply be luckier or perform better under pressure than you) I was a mess. And each one of these people is in direct competition with you for the very very few spots available in these programs. It was obvious that everybody was nervous, but instead of making me feel better that only seemed to make the situation all the more daunting.
In the end, I didn't feel like I had presented my real best in my auditions. I know they weren't expecting to see some technically perfect or completely polished performance. They wanted to see me, wanted to see me connect to a character and exhibit honest, truthful acting. I don't feel I did very well at that. In my anxiety, I retreated into myself instead of fully immersing into the characters, like I had done in rehearsal. Plus, I had rehearsed one of the monologues in such a way that it was very "showy" with lots of movement and voice inflection but very little heart behind it. This was pointed out to me by one of the acting recruiters I talked with, and I knew it was true the minute he said it. Plus, I had fallen into one of my classic traps of performing something the exact same way every time at the loss of rediscovery and spontaneity. Thus, I felt like those making important decision about me and my future didn't get to see what I can really do.
And I also just have to admit that I'm not as good as I was hoping I am. There were a lot of people there, and many of them were just more trained and more talented than me, and I need to come to terms with that. Arrogant actors annoy me so much, and it disturbs me to think I have been one of them. I apologize to anybody who got that impression from me. You hear often how tough this business is, and I guess in Chicago I got a small taste of how true that really is. Why do I even bother? Indeed, a number of times the nervous actors in the waiting area looked at each other puzzedly, their innards a gelatanous mess of anxiety, as if to ask, "Why do we put ourselves through this?" Acting is a wild cycle of extreme self-confidence followed by intense periods of doubt and hesitation. I don't know why I do it. In any other thing with the odds as stacked against me as they were in Chicago I would say, "Why bother?" But in acting, you can't help but feeling that surely, surely you'll be one of the lucky few who "make it." Its an addictive fantasy.
Ok, I sound SO pessimistic. If things didn't go as well as I'd hoped, they certainly didn't go as badly as I feared. I made it past the screening auditions for URTAs, which isn't a small thing really. They eliminate two-thirds of the applicants right there. Two schools expressed direct interest in me, one of which is actually a decent program thats right up my alley. In fact, it sounds absolutely perfect besides the fact that its located in South Carolina, deep in the heart of the Old South, as red as a red state can get. Ah well, it's just for two years.
In addition, I had a good interview with my school of choice in San Diego where I feel I really got a chance to introduce myself to the people making the decision. I was able to get them to look past the fact that I'm from BYU. (Honestly, I think a large group of schools rule you out immediately when they see you're from BYU, so having that next my name didn't help things either.) The audition was only "so so" but I think they were impressed with my responses in the interview.
At this point, all thats left is to wait and see. Frankly, I'm not too hopeful about my chances. Which begs the question: What am I supposed to do now? Reconcile myself to a life of nine to five torture? You see, work is a waste of time, unless work is what you want to do with your time. If your work is an expression of you, is part of you, then its worth spending your life on. If your work is just something you do so you can have money to enjoy life when you are not working.... well life is too short for that. Thats my own personal opinion, but I recognize that I'm a liberal idealistic idiot.
If worse comes to worse, I can always dig ditches. Anybody need any ditches?
Comments
I wish you good luck ;)
WITHOUT ME!!!>???!?!?