Auditions
So much has been written about how horrible it is for actors to do auditions. They have to wait, nervously. They are vulnerable lambs in the hands of directors/casting directors/idiots who don’t recognise their talent/can’t tell that they are having a bad day/already know what they want and it isn’t them. Actors bemoan the lack of work/the kind of work/the dates. Actors do have it hard, and I know. There have been many disgusting audition experiences that I would love to erase off the hard drive of my memory.
But this post is about ‘holding’ auditions. Actors, just think about it from this angle for five minutes. It took me a week and a half to set up auditions. Here are just some of the things I had to do. Create an audition brief. Send it to 5 agents. Liase with agents around days, times, slots. Book an audition venue. Slot in and make allowances for independent actors who wanted to attend and who either didn’t have or weren’t sent by their agents. Send fifty emails. Refuse to answer ‘please call me’ SMSes from actors. Make an audition form. Make audition lists. Make audition numbers. Change the schedule 100 times. Fill in empty slots, rebook and switch times. Deal with irate actors whose SMSes I hadn’t returned. And this is all before auditions had even started.
So, yesterday was day 1 of 3. In the morning I had less than 50% turnout from the one agency. My 11h30 arrived at 09h30, there were three 10h20s, and in the space of a morning actors managed to assign themselves numbers completely randomly different from the order in which I saw them. All of this would have been ok if…
I had sent out a very clear and detailed brief around the characters in the work and asked actors to keep this in mind when choosing a short monologue. I would watch the prepared piece and then we would sightread from the script. Well, I never. Firstly, most of the independents had never seen the brief. I have no idea what they were thinking. They had no idea what they were auditioning for. I saw poems. I listened to sad letters written to sons in exile. I heard a massacre and slashing of a village, I witnessed a child do some weird thing in a new dress. Haibo! Really though, what were they doing there? I started getting cross. And here’s why. I had to sit there through it all. From 0900 to well after 1700.
I must be fair. Some auditionees were completely prepared and had given their material a bit of thought. Some of them had even written pieces themselves or found cool things on the internet. Bravo for those guys. That was really exciting. By the time my last person left yesterday my head was ringing. And I knew that today was going to be more of the same.
And it was; in reverse. I had a great morning, with tons of well prepared and talented performers, only two no shows, and young people with tons of commitment and enthusiasm. I had more than one 1st choice in my notes. Then this afternoon it went totally pear-shaped. Only two of the first six bookings came, and then some of them came late. Two people got the day wrong. One person didn’t know what I was auditioning for, and one person had not auditioned before. Surely not? One person did a Shakespearian monologue. For a piece of industrial theatre.
Now, I have been in that hired room for two days and there is still another to go. I have repeated myself so many times I can do this in my sleep. Yet I am not asleep. Each person gets my full attention, notes, appreciation, input and even my lectures about bad choices, arriving on time, making sure that people are available for dates, making allowances for sight reading, finding out where people live, you name it. Each person gets a full ten minutes or more of my time. Each person gets a good shot. What do wannabe actors think? that if I asked for a short prepared monologue I didn’t mean them? Why do actors sabotage any real possibility of actually landing the work? Do they really think that I will magically fall in love with them regardless of their total lack of preparation and thought?
Well, actors, I won’t. And I am seeing hundreds of you. I am going to choose somebody who looks like they are going to be good to work with; someone who is on time and prepared and does themselves justice by treating me with respect. And I know it’s just a piece of industrial theatre; but it is well paid, beautiful, amazing work!
The Soli Story
I’m sure it’s mostly old news by now that Soli Philander was dismissed from 567 Cape Talk a week or two ago. I realised something fishy was happening when Shado Twala seemed to inherit Soli’s slot indefinitely. Although I have read Soli’s heartfelt rhyming explanation for what happened on face book, I don’t profess to having the ins and outs and I certainly haven’t tried to find out the story in more detail or even call out that he was unjustly treated. I just have some thoughts on how corporates just get things so damn wrong sometimes.
Soli is a transformer. He is able to change the way people think, manipulate people’s ideas and encourage them to do things differently. He is exactly what you want in a public persona; someone who speaks their mind with humour and conviction, and gets people to come along for the ride. Which is exactly why his Taxi Timeout was a genius idea and why he and his show were so completely valuable, both for Cape Talk, and for Cape Town.
Now I am not suggesting that Primedia management and the bigwigs don’t have a case against Soli (although I have no real idea about this) but I am pretty convinced he didn’t do anything outright illegal, like steal or cheat or do stuff that our politicians are so comfortable doing with public funds. I am sure they have very good reasons for dismissing him. It just doesn’t make sense.
I really believe that they needed to make every effort to keep him. They needed to pay him more, bend or break the corporate rules, change how they do things, and negotiate a different scenario to make sure he stayed; because he is who we want on our radio. He does it for us. He was their pot of gold, their valuable asset, their secret weapon (not their only one, I concede, but one of them). And instead of trying to make him and us believe that he is dispensable and replaceable they just needed to eat humble pie, recognise his extraordinary value (which comes with all the difficulties of being a huge, popular, magnetic transformer) and make a plan. But no, they pulled that corporate, contractual, businessspeak bullshit and got rid of him.
I loved Shado as a South Africa’s Got Talent judge, but to fill Soli’s boots on the radio as a talk show host? Aikona sisi. So, during that time slot I’ll listen to one of the few really crap choices we have on FM in Cape Town, as I am sure many Cape Talk listeners will. And that just seems so pointless. Cultivate, support and grow what people value and talent you have 567 (and all other corporates), instead of big sticking them out of there.
A drawing board
I love the idea of a board that you draw on. It holds all the possibilities before they are even made or thought through, or given words to. I remember those fabulous, cheapandnasty presents we used to get as kids, where you drew with a plastic pen on the top surface of a little screen and it made black marks on the bottom. Then, when you were done you wiped it clean to start again. I loved those. I would draw and draw until the top layer was permanently stuck to the bottom.
I love the idea of going back to the drawing board. I think that there is nothing as powerful as a really fresh idea. Also, somehow, when you go back to the drawing board, you go with other people. It’s what turns the solo act of drawing into a group activity. Around that drawing board is team work, co-creation, a bit of compromise (naturally), discussion, communication, and often, inspiration.
My little Mac a Tiny is a bit of a drawing board. I have been scribbling on it and wiping it clean. It’s the big people version of those cheapandnasty kids’ toys. It’s a highly portable ideas possibility machine. And, slowly, I feel myself…going back to the drawing board!
Mac a Tiny
I am sitting on the couch. I am on Mac a Tiny, my macbook, birthday prezzie from Big Friendly, and I’m trying to learn the new system. But I am loving it. This is so going to work for me!
The thing is tiny, sleek and light. And pretty. I am feeling so creative! And hip, and cool and onto it. Whatever it is. Right away.
I am also trying out a new desktop client now, to write my blog. We’ll see how I like it on a trial. And I just took a photo of it all!
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Could you believe it? !
Blog withdrawal, Dubai impressions
It’s been over a week since I posted. The whole time I was away and out of blog range I kept on thinking, “I must write about that,” or “that will make a brilliant post” or, “I am so funny!” Naturally, I have come home from a foreign land and I am absolutely blank. Nothing going on, no memories of my own creative genius.
I was away in Dubai for five days for a corporate show; a fundraiser for diabetes awareness. I worked really hard, the show was a success, and then I came home. I did get to see a bit of Dubai; you can’t help it, it goes past you from your car window, and it looks pretty damn amazing. That tallest building?! the one that looks like a weird sci-fi needle made of metal and glass? It is pretty magnificent. Below it is the Dubai Mall, terrifying and intimidating just for its size, not to mention the shops, labels, giant aquarium, ice rink, and spectacular musical fountains. I have to say though, that for a non-shopper like me it was all a bit daunting. And exhausting.
The people of Dubai are a most interesting mix. 90% of the 3.5 million people resident there are foreigners! 45% of those are Indian. There are people there of every shape, colour and dress, and language. I had no idea if the people I saw were tourists or residents, there for business, or making a living, and a life. Women in burkhas swish past with glittering eye make-up and huge clips holding up their hair underneath, the Muslim equivalent of a bee-hive. Men dressed in white with full headdresses have cellphone hands free earphones disturbing the white. White women in high heels are ogled by men and old ladies in saris shout and laugh. And there’s a fair amount of bling!
At Karama market, a collection of shops and stalls in a much lower class area (that reminded me of West Street in Durbs, or the Oriental Plaza) rip off perfumes and knock off designer labels are sold, and bargaining is par for the course.
Food (which I experienced mostly at breakfast at the hotel and the food court at the mall) was Indian and Middle Eastern, with everything else in between; Thai, Chinese, Italian, burgers, sushi, Turkish, you name it. and what I ate was pretty good, and relatively cheap too.
Our hotel was like any other anywhere in the world. except there was no alcohol. Alcohol can be found in Dubai, but it’s a mission, and very, very expensive. And I quite enjoyed being alcohol free, in alcohol free company. Drinks literally means fruit juice. Not all the cast were as happy as I was!
Things I loved: Hand cream, shower gel and public bathroom soap all smell of lemons. Bottled water is very, very cheap. Lots of stuff is actually. The train stations are these beautiful egg shaped domes on the side of the highway. The highway concrete is all white. Flower displays defy the odds in public spaces, with sophisticated underground sprinklers keeping them alive. No stealing! You can leave your bag lying around, your cellphone on a table, your wallet on a table, and it will be there when you come back, even hours later.
Things I didn’t like. Knowing that we could get into trouble for public displays of affection or being gay. The unbelievable amount of smokers everywhere. The idea that an entirely unseen workforce living in camps were just beyond eyesight.
I’d like to go back.
100 days to go!
It’s a hundred days to go to the soccer world cup! I am sure that all of you want to know why I am even mentioning this, and why I even care, and you would ask if you could see me why I am wearing my ‘I heart SA’ T-shirt with the SA flag on it today.
Well, I have to say, I have been turned around on this SWC thing. In the beginning I was omigod! WTF? I’m going to a desert island. At the time I could think of nothing worse than Cape Town, and South Africa being swamped by a bunch of rowdy foreign soccer thugs, who would be overcharged, under entertained, over liquified, under transported and in my face. In the beginning I was the stereotype of a DWP (depressed white pessimist) that believed nothing would be ready, nobody would come and the SABC would screw it up royally (that part might still come true).
But my involvement with the Engen Phambili road show has changed all that. I have been working with Engen for the past six years, creating industrial theatre plays as part of the road shows that go all over the country and are aimed at Engen petrol pump attendants and cashiers. It is work that I am so proud of and committed to. It is also the most effective work I make. But while my cast of brilliant actors and I have been working at delivering a message of giving great service, pride, loyalty, energy, enthusiasm and enjoyment, I have been learning about the world cup, the way soccer brings people together, the love of the game, the excitement ordinary people feel, and they way that Engen feels about this once in a life time opportunity for South Africa to shine! It’s rubbed off. I am feeling it. Marks Maponyane and Clive Barker do a Q & A around the SWC and they are absolutely inspirational. The audience of petrol pump attendants and cashiers know their soccer, their players, the participating countries, their favourites to win. World cup tickets are cherished and fought over prizes! The South African national anthem is sung with enthusiasm, passion and commitment. I’m in! Boots and all! Woza 2010 soccer world cup! A hundred days to go!
Sheesh, and now, a cold!
Hard drive crash, cell phone in washing machine, and now a river of snot and a sore throat. Which would be fine if I wasn’t working this weekend, but, I am. Loverly.
In amongst all this woe though there are some seriously good things. My industrial theatre show is looking totally cool and I love my cast, who have delivered their usual excellence and more. I have scored a new job which is taking me to Dubai at the end of March, and I’ve never been before. Big Friendly and I ran what I thought was a delightful chat/workshop about blogging, at PANSA yesterday. Although only four people attended, it was really fun, for me. It was great talking about meganshead and why and how I blog. It also totally helped that Big Friendly was on hand to explain the technical how of it too. On that side I am super privileged to have him; I know nothing.
Now, if only my nose and eyes would stop running. I am off to rehearsals.
The Week that Was
It’s Friday morning and I’m about to go and walk the old ladies, Bayla and Gally, try and get to the damngym (I have been making a bit of an effort this year) before rehearsals, then rehearse, then perform a TheatreSports gig at a pre-barmitzvah thing in somebody’s lounge tonight. And it looks like the weekend will be full of work stuff too. And Big Friendly and I are going for a romantic 2020 game at Newlands on Saturday night!
But I thought I would take a couple of lines to reflect on the week that was.
TheatreSports had good one, with that fab show on Tuesday night, and a really successful corporate performance yesterday. We performed for a company that I had first performed for 16 years ago. They were our first corporate client! Love it.
Rehearsals for my industrial theatre project are going really well. I have been working for the same client for five years now, creating plays, based on the same characters, that go on a country wide roadshow, and I love it. I love my team of actors, I enjoy the process which we have honed into something easy and painless, and it’s the one sure gig I have that pays the rent! it is also the one kind of theatre that I know reaches its target audience, who love it.
I am irritated with our Prez and the country in general. Come on guys, this guy was voted in with a completely public track record of sexual expediency and polygamy! It’s not new news. I’m just irritated that because he is the most important public servant, we taxpayers have to pay for this all. I am irritated that a red carpet was laid for the opening of parliament. I am irritated by the predictability and insincerity of our politicians, and the fact that their promises are totally empty and meaningless; a series of random placatory and warning words strung together and haltingly read out.
I am depressed that I seem to be enjoying pop music again, at my age. I catch myself with Lady Gaga as my earworm of the day. I am dancing to hip hop at my hip hop classes at the damngym!
I am delighted, and this should have been higher on the list, by the Proteas, who mafferated the Indians, on their home turf, by more than a total innings! I can’t wait for the next test to begin on Sunday.
Lots to reflect on, but it’s getting late and the dogs are milling about!
Happy.
I woke up this morning properly happy, and I have spent the rest of the day delighted. And of course you know I’m about to tell you why. This could take a while. There are a lot of things.
Number one. My industrial theatre project went on the road today. It is up and running and pretty much out of my hands. And that particular tension; a combination of anxiety, paranoia and adrenalin is now replaced by a sense of achievement and pride and gratefulness. I am proud of my actors; who are a fantastic team. I am grateful for the work, from a repeat client. I like the play we have made.
Number 2. I went to Artscape today to sort out some paperwork and I saw the unbelievably fabulous model that designer Alfred Rietmann has made for the set of The Tent. Remember The Tent that I was so on and on about last year? The play I wrote that Artscape’s New Writing Programme showcased? Well, this year we are doing a full two weeks’ run of it. I am beyond myself with excitement. We start rehearsing on 5 October and open on 31. I have a cast to live for, a designer with true vision and an opportunity that makes me so lucky!
Number 3. I had fantastic lunch and catch up with my superb friend; you know who you are; and I am doing it again tomorrow with my other longest, fabulous friend; you know who you are! Then I picked up my gorgeous Big Friendly. Of course we came home and all four small furries were delighted to see us.
Number 4. Yesterday I was lucky enough to spend some time with my other longest, wonderfullest friend (who had some not such great news for me and her which wasn’t the part that made me happy) and my godson. He is brilliant. I cannot explain what that feels like and how happy it makes me. Big, big love.
Number 5. Tomorrow night is Rosh Hashana and we are going to celebrate the new year with my late father’s cousin. it’s been a while since I touched base with that side of my family. I can’t wait. I am also thinking about my other family members, further away, with big love.
Number 6. I am fetching my ship faring fabulous friend from the airport on Saturday. He is coming home for a bit. It’s a hard reason why, but I am happy to see and love him.
Number 7. Chassie doesn’t have tickbite fever anymore.
Number 8. We have lots of bookings for TheatreSports in the coming weeks. The Voorkamerfest was a winner and ended up being great publicity, and we are running our TheatreSports training course on the 26, 27 Sept and 3, 4 October. I am amped and inspired.
Number 9. I am generally inspired, with all sorts of crazy ideas and things, and different people I want to talk to about it all.
Number 10. I forget what number 10 is, but it leaves a smile on my face. Oh, I remember. I had a full-on laugh session with the cashier at Pick ‘n Poo yesterday and we just totally tickled each other pink.
Number 11. I am totally ok that spring isn’t here. I thought I wasn’t but then I remembered spring wind! Pooh. Rain on! Rain on!
Number 12. The whales are here.
Number 13. I am getting really good at facebook scrabble.
Happy.
Life after Noah
So Noah of Cape Town opened on Saturday night and so did the heavens, bucketing down and causing flash flooding and chaos in our city. A big, if dangerous, release I think.
I also need to release. Noah has been all consuming for me this year, and while I am totally proud, awestruck, dedicated and still determined that it have a long life, I need to get stuck in to a few other things that need my attention.
The first of these is TheatreSports, one of my first and oldest loves, which has been ticking over nicely in the background and now needs to fly. I want to find a long term sponsor for TheatreSports. TheatreSports needs to be played and learned at every school and every schools festival. We need full houses at our weekly performances and more shows during the school holidays. We need money for a proper marketing campaign if we do next year’s long and ambitious Grahamstown festival. We need to put our plans of hosting a TheatreSports world cup into action.
Then there is The Tent, the play I wrote which showcased at Artscape’s New Writing Programme last year, and has been given a full run this year. I am really blessed that this new work of mine is being supported by this programme and allowed to grow and develop. We go into rehearsals in October and have a two week run in November. I am so excited to get my teeth into that one again.
Up next though is another of my industrial theatre projects. For the last five years I have been working with a client, creating half hour plays that perform as part of a National road show, and this year there are two different plays. We did the first one quite recently in May and June and the next one starts rehearsing at the end of August. Although it’s challenging to come up with new and fresh ideas on a similar theme and concept, I love the characters that we have created and I love the team of actors that have become their own little family.
So there is lots to look forward to and I need to get very busy.
But before that I must remind you to go and check out Noah of Cape Town. Now. You might want to see it more than once.
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Randomness
