In which I am cast

It’s been almost a month since I told you about my audition for the musical, and I know you’ve been waiting with baited breath to see if I got the part. Why has it taken me almost a month to get to this? Well, my friends, that’s because I got the part, and have been busy rehearsing!

I wasn’t expecting to make it past the first round, and then I really wasn’t expecting to make it past callbacks (this being my first theatrical audition ever). As such, during the whole audition process, Mr. P and I were discussing our summer vacation plans and had pretty much determined that we would be going out of town for three weeks in July. The show was scheduled for three weekends in July, but of course since I wasn’t going to get the part, that wasn’t an issue, right?

Murphy’s Law, people… The next day I got a call from the director telling me that I had been cast as featured ensemble. What should have been amazing news was tempered by the sinking realization that Mr. P and I had a big decision on our hands. My first thinking was that I was willing to give up the play. Mr. P has not been back to Italy to see his family in three years and that made it a non-issue for me. At the same time, I told the director that I would do the play, intending to show up for the first practice “just to see what it was like” and then tell them that something had come up. I was feeling conflicted.

To complicate matters, I told my colleague (the one who’s heavily involved in community theater and had told me about the audition) that I had gotten the part– followed by a scream and a hug by said colleague– and then told her I wasn’t going to do it since we were going to Italy– which was followed by “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” She impressed on me what an incredible accomplishment it was to have not only made callbacks, but to be cast as featured ensemble, given the reputation of the company, and how perfect a match the show was for my interests and abilities. Then I made the mistake of going to the first rehearsal and seeing how many scenes I’d been cast in, and that I was dancing in two numbers (having been erroneously told by the director that I would not be a dancer). Having been issued my libretto, casting sheet, and met the rest of the case, there was no turning back. It was time for a heart to heart with Mr. P.

Mr. P gets “husband of the year” designation. From the beginning, he could sense how important this was to me, and even though I was fully willing to give up the opportunity, he agreed to move our vacation to August and tolerate the crazy rehearsal schedule. If you know anything about Europeans’ vacation schedules, you know that August is the worst possible time to go there. Everyone is on vacation. All the businesses in the cities shut down and people head to the beaches and mountains in droves. Prices are inflated for the month, which is suicide on top of the current dollar-euro exchange rate. Mr. P has been fully supportive and invested in the whole process, and has never once let on that he begrudges it.

In which I begin rehearsals

 The first few weeks of rehearsals began sitting down. The goal was to get the vocals down before attempting any choreography or staging. This play has a very strong ensemble component and there was lots of vocals to memorize. Although I am very familiar with this play, having listened to it throughout my childhood, I had to relearn it from the perspective of a mezzo soprano = with harmony. It’s easy to memorize a melody line, but much more of a challenge to memorize the harmony lines of an at times quite dissonant score. All this sitting down made me wonder when we were going to dance. It also gave the opportunity to get to know my fellow cast members.

This is a new social experience. I was in band in high school. I did not really mix with the thespians. I found them to be dramatic and self-centered. Let me tell you something– some things never change. Even as adults, thespians are no exception. Dancers are largely toned down when they are not dancing; musicians can live up to the nerdy stereotype; many thespians are at full speed all the time. It takes a lot of energy to keep up with them, but they are also a fun group. Luckily, there are a couple of dancers to keep things in balance, and the principal actors are with very few exceptions, completely un-divas.

Throughout rehearsals, I’ve felt like a little sponge. Everything is new and I’m just trying to absorb all the information and direction that is coming at me from every side. As things get added in, it gets more and more complex. Humility and unquestioningness (is that a word?) are the name of the game right now.

Next installment: Dance rehearsals, a crisis of self esteem, and (hopefully) redemption