THE SECOND DEADLY SIN: “ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE”

We’ve borrowed a title from Seussical to illustrate a three-part point that auditioning students ignore at their peril: There are always other people in the room (and usually in the material, too).

Part one: the imaginary scene partner
Often students spend so much time worrying about what they are going to do in the audition that they forget there’s supposed to be an imaginary person out there to whom they are speaking or singing.

Sometimes, during the audition, we have an opportunity to work with the applicant. If a student shows promise but seems to have been misdirected (see Sin Number One, above), we’ll take a few minutes to work with her. The first and most frequently asked question we pose is, “Who are you talking to?” Much of the time the student has no idea. Many of them haven’t read or seen the play or show — they found the song or pulled the monologue out of a collection. Sometimes they’ll reply with a character name — Romeo — which isn’t going to mean much unless they’ve studied the play. (A classic example was a Juliet who eagerly answered “Romeo!” but who, when pressed to explain the relationship, said, “Um … brother?”)

Very rarely do we find students who have an understanding that characters are involved in relationships and that relationships have a direct bearing on how a monologue or song unfolds. You would speak differently to a friend than you would to a parent, right? You would deal differently with a police officer than a younger brother. So, the more specific and personal the “imaginary person” is, the more you’ll be able to understand the relationship the character is in and the more you will be able to connect to the piece.

Bottom line: If you’re auditioning, spend as much time choosing or getting to know the imaginary person in your scene or song as you do the character you’re playing.

Part two: the musical partner
In a musical theatre audition, you’ll almost always be provided with an accompanist. So — news flash — you aren’t alone up there. Although it’s a tricky partnership that must be forged on the fly, you need to realize that the accompanist is part of your audition. Don’t ignore what’s coming from the piano. Usually the accompanist is trying to help by playing with rhythmic energy or quiet lyricism. The saddest thing for us, sitting behind the table, is when a student loses the melody and goes out of tune — then proceeds to ignore the pianist, who is pounding out the correct notes to get the student back on track.

Bottom line: Musical theatre students need to show us that they understand they are making music. We’ve given you a musical partner. Work with him.

Part three: Hello, we’re out here too
When you audition, you’re going to be sharing the room with us — sometimes several of us. This doesn’t mean we want you to deliver a song or monologue directly to us, but it does mean that your awareness and consciousness needs to take into consideration that there are other human beings sharing the room with you.

Bottom line: You are not alone. Use the help that’s given. Enjoy the moment.

THE THIRD DEADLY SIN: A BAD FIRST IMPRESSION

This is another multipart sin, because there are so many ways to make a bad first impression. Once made, the first impression is hard to change and can be the kiss of death for an auditioning student. That’s because this is a high-pressure situation for us too: We only have five minutes in a room to figure out who this potential student is, what she is capable of, and whether we want to spend the next four years with her.

Choosing and preparing material
A wonderful recent audition involved a girl who came in dressed really funky — pink hair, a really urban look. The first song she sang was “Out Tonight,” from Rent. She came into the room, saying, in effect, “This is who I am” (her true, funky, urban self) … and then she did something totally different. Her second song was “Infinite Joy” from William Finn’s Elegies.

This song can be interpreted from many perspectives, and she chose to do it in an intimate, personal way that was drastically different from her first song. In a short space of time, she showed the audition committee that she could be her sassy self, or she could take on the life of another person, another character: She understood the importance of being able to transform.

The opposite example would be a recent audition in which a young man presented a monologue from All My Sons side by side with one from Boy’s Life. Fine choices, and lots of room for contrast, but they were (unfortunately) identical presentations — the same gestures, the same inflections, the same energy.

One of the questions we hear frequently is “What should I do for this audition?” A student’s decisions about what to sing or what monologue to present are as basic as deciding who they are and how they wish to be seen. Monologue and song choices are how the students introduce themselves to us.

Black fingernails and piercings may be essential to a student’s sense of identity, but most college theatre programs are looking for a clean palette. Likewise, we must interpret decisions about preparation (not memorizing the words or music well, not reading the play, not following the audition instructions) as part of the student’s work ethic. Actors think nothing of spending six weeks in rehearsal for a production, but many won’t spend six hours preparing for an important audition. It’s a problem.

Bottom line: Present material you know and care about that you can do really well.

Following the rules
Students may not realize that one reason we hold auditions is to see whether they can follow instructions. Following the rules at our audition is an indicator for future success at the university and beyond. College is full of procedures, prerequisites, and responsibilities, and we want to enroll students who have the fortitude to complete a degree program and graduate. The excuse, “I didn’t know it had to be 16 bars,” when that specification was in writing on the website and highlighted in materials mailed to the student’s home, does not bode well for that student’s success in the college classroom.

Recently one of our theatre students lost a four-year, full-ride scholarship because —despite several conversations, numerous phone calls, and emails — he was unable to get a course add form signed and delivered to the registrar’s office within the first three weeks of the semester. Failure to deliver the form meant that he was not enrolled as a full-time student, and therefore ineligible for the scholarship. (This was not our policy, it was the university’s: We, too, must follow the rules.) At auditions, we observe students’ behavior and ask ourselves: Does this student have the potential to manage a show business career that includes a day job, night rehearsals, auditions, acting classes, and the New York City subway system?

Some kids may think it’s cool or different or indicative of an artistic temperament to break the rules. They may think we will remember them more if they stand out from the crowd. We will remember them, but not in the way they hope.

Dress
If you are given instructions about dress for the audition, follow them. If there is a movement portion to the audition, and students have come with tight jeans, short skirts, high heels, flip-flops, or precarious hairdos, despite instructions to the contrary, the audition committee will not be sympathetic. Likewise, formal wear (cocktail dresses, suit jackets) should be eschewed. Wear sensible shoes; nothing is easier to spot than a young girl wearing high heels for the first, uncomfortable time.

A word about costumes: Don’t. A girl recently came in to audition with a boa and a baton tucked into the back of her pants so they couldn’t immediately be seen. In the middle of “Show Off” from The Drowsy Chaperone, she pulled out the boa, then, a little bit later, the baton. This surprised the audition committee and not in a good way. It indicated that she was not savvy, that she had spent her preparation time on the wrong things, and in costuming herself, that she had not followed instructions. It also showed a lack of understanding about how a moment can be accomplished theatrically without the literalness of props.

Bad behavior
It’s been said a million times, but it doesn’t always sink in: An audition begins the moment one sets foot in the building. What you do outside the audition room can be just as crucial as what you do in the five minutes of your audition or interview. Recently, we learned from our student monitor (and, yes, we ask) that an auditionee had been saying unkind things about a nearby theatre program — trashing their audition process and denigrating their students and faculty. As it happened, one of us had taught at this school, had left on good terms, and still had a lot of friends there.

One of our goals as college educators is to create good future citizens of the academic and professional theatre community. If it appears that a student’s personality runs counter to that goal, we will be reluctant to invite them into what is, essentially, a very small, interconnected world.

Bear in mind that top tier schools are vastly competitive. Everything counts. To do well in an audition, you must be the best version of yourself. The audition committee will make note of how you enter the room, your hygiene, whether you are rude or polite to others, how you listen, how you interact in social situations.

Bottom line: The whole five-minute audition is a first impression. If we see problems, it’s hard for us to form a second impression that’s different.

THE FOURTH DEADLY SIN:  VOCAL PROBLEMS

Although the problems of Deadly Sin Number Four aren’t all deal breakers for a college auditions committee (after all, we’re not looking for perfection), vocal issues can be red flags or, at the least, can put students into the “wait list” pile. “Stage voice” refers to an actor’s habit of using a different voice when acting than he does when speaking normally. Auditors have similar terms for other bad vocal habits or conditions that have not been checked.

For example, “cry voice” is a term used to describe the practice of pretending to cry by putting a false wobble in the voice or pitching the voice higher to indicate the character is upset. “Cutesy voice” is a silly term for singers and actors whose sound is so bright that they appear younger than they are. “Vocal fry” is the tendency to let the voice dwindle to a raspy whisper at the end of every phrase.

These issues can and will be addressed in college if the university has the voice and diction faculty to do it, but they might prevent a student from making the cut if enough others audition without evidence of these habits. Fortunately, these issues are all something that high school teachers can mitigate — by catching them soon, recommending speech therapy or voice teachers, and being vigilant in rehearsal and performance situations so these bad habits don’t settle in.

Speech impediments can be trickier, since some students may not have had an opportunity or resources to address the problem. Nodes or evidence of damage to the vocal cords are usually a deal breaker for musical theatre programs. This problem, which can be caused by misuse of the voice or a combination of physiological factors, can take months or years to fix, and sometimes even requires surgery. Some of us behind the table are voice teachers, so hearing someone with nodes will be like nails on a chalkboard. The first thing we want to tell these students, is, “Stop singing, stop talking.” No singing and no talking will make it a very short audition.

Bottom line: High school theatre teachers should discuss voice and speech problems with their students and recommend professional treatment where it’s indicated.