So the past couple of months have been a non-stop whirl of auditions, callbacks, and lessons. I don't think I saw my roommate for a week and a half in one particular stretch. It was almost mind-numbing. Luckily, a few things have panned out, so my summer is all set.
I suppose this being my first time auditioning for summer stock season, I had a few lessons to learn. However, I was ill-prepared for the cattle calls of five hundred people, trying to mold my particular skills and downplay my shortcomings to fit into prospective theaters' seasons. I have usually been gone on a job during this time, and so going through it myself was an eye opener.
The first real lesson I learned was that I really have become a rusty dancer, even with the renewed effort to regain my dance ability. In the four years since I last danced in a show, I have primarily been cast in roles that require little of that skill set. I feel a bit like an infant, learning to walk, to move through space. Nonetheless, it's better than where I was some five months ago. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I've learned a great deal about trusting my instincts in crafting a song, a character, and a complete arc through the show. I'm able to see where I would like to go with my character, how he relates to others onstage, and how to contribute my voice and my energy to the collective theatrical process. I hope I make April Shawhan proud!
The third, and most interesting, lesson is that how I perceive myself as a performer and an artist, and the set of skills that I have worked through and honed in the past few years is now different from how I'm perceived by those casting. When I danced a great deal, I was what you could call a real ensemble kid. I loved working the chorus. It was a comradeship; a coming together of people, usually just out of college, who wanted to put on a show. It was loud and boisterous and silly almost. I loved it.
But I realized, sadly, that I'm no longer that kid. I've been pushing myself to deepen as an artist, and having neglected my dancing ability, I found the realization of my lack of skill both a slap in the face to my sense of self, and somewhat bittersweet. I saw that I was growing into a different kind of artist, even if I couldn't move like those kids at all the dance callbacks I went to. However, many of the theaters still see me as that kid. Thankfully, I now have life behind me, and experience that I hope has deepened my other abilities and given me something else to offer. Maybe not the wide-eyed eagerness, but a deeper sense of self awareness, and a richer well of expression and experience. I wouldn't change the last four years for the world, and I'm prepared to show the world a maturer, quirkier, richer performer than that kid from then. I'm ready now; who wants to see it?
