#TBT: A Collection of Throwbacks

My First and Worst Audition

On the drive back from seeing a High School's production of PIPPIN, I told my mom I wanted to give theatre a try. That cast of PIPPIN inspired me to use a nice little website called, "Google." I looked up places that taught and encourage acting, and the first choice was a place that would soon change my life.

On a list of summer activities, there was this thing called Theatre Arts Camp, and the only way to get into it was auditioning. My mom signed me up, and the requirements for the audition were intimidating (although they were simple things like "sing a song" and "prepare a one minute monologue").

Now, before I continue the story, I must explain important (yet embarrassing) information. At the time of the audition, I thought singers were supposed to sing in their "head voice." Everything I did, I sang in my falsetto (a really high voice). It wasn't until ten months after that TAC audition that I found out I wasn't singing the usual way.

With that humiliating information, I picked the song, "Simple Joys" from the musical PIPPIN. And to make matters more interesting, my monologue was from the Evil Queen in the T.V. show, Once Upon a Time.

I walked into the room, and apparently there were six people auditioning at the same time. In one of the chairs, my sister's school acquaintance was talking with all of his camp friends. So that means, if I completely bomb my audition, graphic details would be leaked. The horrifying part was, they had all done this camp before. The only experience I had was watching a bunch of High Schoolers run around on stage and spontaneously start singing.

I sat down in the last empty chair, and the director of the camp said her "hellos" to everyone that she had previously known and worked with (aka: not me). I was the only person in that room that had no idea what I was doing. I quickly became a baby deer in the hunger games.

She called my name, and I began to shake... a lot. I was so nervous, and I kept telling myself, "just leave, no one is making you stay. Just go now before..."

I handed my sheet music to the accompanist, and he began playing the piano. When it came to my part, nothing came out of my mouth. The director stopped the accompanist, and had me move closer to the piano. The song began again, and I was able to produce a sound. It wasn't anything in the English language, but they were sounds. To compare the throat noises, it would be a cat walking a marathon with a broken leg.

"Maybe try it acapella?" the director said. I started shaking even more. Okay, so my voice would BE THE ONLY SOUND IN THE COMPLETELY SILENT ROOM. It was so intimidating, and if I were to just pee right there on the floor, it would be much less embarrassing.

I started singing without the piano. "Just leave. Say you're not ready, and just get out of this room," If I could've swallowed my pride I would've, but there was NO PRIDE TO SWALLOW. It spilled out of me as soon as I attempted to sing that song.

After about twenty seconds, the director sought pity and stopped me. I sat down, and she told me that after everyone else sang, I would have to do vocal scales on by the piano.

So after everyone else's angelic voices were done, I did my scales (in falsetto). "Wow, you can get really high up there," she said. I wanted to barf.

Then we did our monologues, and I can honestly say that it was my best part of the audition. When I finished, a girl that sat next to me clapped; I could use the motivation booster. Eh, I knew it was a pity clap, but I was desperate.

When the director let us out, and she confronted me, "I can tell that you're here to learn, so you're in the camp."

Flash forward nine months, and she has directed the majority of what I've been involved in this past year. Saying "I can tell that you're here to learn," was an understatement. I have been taught so many things from the people at this community theatre, and I cannot explain how happy I am that I didn't listen to the thoughts telling me to leave the audition.

If I weren't to make it through that APPALLING audition, I would've never done that Theatre Arts Camp, and WHO KNOWS where I'd be without that camp. It's where I started, and the moral of the story is: One, always push yourself. Two, the future can be unpredictable. Three, ALWAYS make sure you're singing the correct way. Four, sometimes, it takes a little sacrifice to get a prize that's truly rewarding.