I submitted to be in a musical theatre production, which I don't do often, because it was based heavily on Vaudeville, and Vaudeville is wonderful. The last time I auditioned for a musical theatre show, I got it, so why not try again. But I didn't realize how big of a production this was.
I got the call confirming the audition, which meant they wanted to see me. So far so good. But they told me to prepare two sides, a song, and a Vaudeville act. They wanted to see something entertaining, it could be anything, but I had to show them something! So I spent two days trying to put together some Vaudevillian comedy/tumbling act. Every idea I had wasn't practical, so I finally decided I'd just roll around and hope for the best. Besides, I still had a song and two sides to get familiar with.
I brushed up an old audition favorite, something I felt I could pull out of my back pocket and be comfortable with. Also thought I'd include my classic audition tune, "Mr. Cellophane," just in case. And for the sides, I brushed up, read them over, jotted some notes. I felt I could give a good audition without having it memorized. Then I noticed some names on the bottom of the sides, "Book by Milt Larsen, Richard M. Sherman and Joseph Hoffman. Music and Lyrics by Richard M. Sherman & Milt Larsen." Particularly Richard M. Sherman. That's one of the legendary Sherman Brothers, who wrote pretty much everything for Walt Disney. And with my history and love of Disney, I wish I had prepared any of the music I could so easily perform, like for example ANYTHING FROM MARY POPPINS. Which I have the music for. But it was the night before, too late, I'll use the song in my back pocket.
The audition morning finally came. Wasn't feelin' too good about it, but by golly, I was gonna make it a good audition. I arrived signed in, and another auditioning actor asked the runner where he could find Milt Larsen. Okay, pay attention cuz what happened next happened very fast. He was saying he was supposed to talk to Mr. Larsen, which meant that he was here, which meant that Mr. Sherman was probably here. It hit me, I would be auditioning for the writers of the play. This wasn't a local theater's production of a classic musical that I just never heard of, this was a brand new musical written by these legends. Richard Sherman is the executive producer. And I was somehow auditioning for the opening cast. Those are promotional candies for the new show!! ohgodohgodohgodohgod this audition is way bigger tha-- wait a minute, Richard Sherman is here? He's right behind me! That's him! He's introducing himself. I'm introducing myself! I'M SHAKING RICHARD M. SHERMAN'S HAND.
This was unreal, and I was ecstatic, so I was determined to being entertaining, or at least charming. In the downtime before the auditions started I admired the Mary Poppins autographed theatrical poster in the hallway, as I do every time I'm at Debbie Reynolds Dance Studio. I went over my sides again, and I was ready.
I was the first to audition. Somehow that happens to me often. And I entered a room with a tarnished old piano, and a little old man behind it. There was the auditionee's table, with several old men all wearing matching blue jackets. I was smiling genuinely and felt this wonderful comfort being among people I just assumed were from the good ol' days or Walt's era. I talked to the pianist about the song, we had it figured out, I thanked him, then greeted the rest of the men, spoke with them a moment. And then it was like I was back in college at all those theatre auditions I went to. I told them my song, the pianist played it, and I went into it. I could tell I was off time. I've been told that I should let the pianist catch up to me, rather than risk us stumbling our tempos around each other. And I figured I'd just sing the song and focus on me. Bad idea in hindsight. The director stopped me before the big note and told me that there's a lag in sound or something, and that I should be closer to the piano. The men all talked about how the piano was closer to center last time, so we pulled it over, and tried again. He asked if I had a second song, and for the first time ever I did and was thankful I remembered to do that. The pianist suggested I start right before the chorus and do a few quick bars, making sure I get to the chorus. I did it. The director however, wanted to hear the beginning verse. So we started over. Then I forgot the words and had to start over. And it occurred to me, it's been way to long since I sang this song, and I really didn't have it prepared as much as I had it on hand. So it didn't go well, but I got through the chorus. The pianist and I stopped, the director kept tapping his toe and prompted me to sing the chorus again. I was lost. I didn't know what to do with the song and the audition quickly ended. I hoped that my impromptu playfulness during the song would help, but I'm sure it backfired. They took a look over the profile sheet I filled out before the audition, where I listed every basic special skill I had that related to Vaudeville, which is pretty much everything that doesn't involve sports equipment. They told me they didn't need to see any more from me. I thanked them and left smiling. For a train derailing, I still had a good time.
I was disappointed that I committed some hamartia in focusing so much on the Vaudeville act, and not so much on the singing or acting. Now that I think about it, I should have worried about those first. Wowed them with my acting and singing talent, rather than the specialty stuff, just in case they decide to cut me off early. Makes sense now.
So lesson learned. And I'm sure I would have lost it during the dance, since I'm not a dancer. But I still feel bad that I got to audition for Richard M. Sherman, and pretty much blew it. I am better than that, and I feel like I let him down.
And he was so nice!
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