Virtual Hyperbole

So I have another audition tomorrow. Funny, yeah? ( How's that no-acting thing going? Oh, good, ya know; getting by.) A different show, but the same company; they cast for their whole season all at once. It's a director I've always admired but never worked with, a playwright that I really like a ton, and the theatre (of which I'm a fan) is blocks from my home. That's what they call a win-win, people. They called me in for 2 different roles. After reading the play (which is really good - another win), I did something I've never ever done before in the history of auditioning ... I told them I was not interested in reading for one of the roles, and that I wouldn't be preparing those sides. It's not a bad part, but it didn't intrigue or stimulate me. In fact, the thought of auditioning for this role and and the small possibility that I could be cast in it was making me feel like ditching the audition altogether, even though I really like the ot...

My cure for the common audition is a whiskey. Despite my ambivalence, it's still the best thing to silence the minor demons in my head who assure me that I should've this or shouldn't've that . Get thee behind me with a Makers in front of me. Also. You're supposed to bring a headshot and resume to an audition. Oh right. This I remembered just in time to print a resume, dig through my photos, realize I don't have a stash of current pics because I didn't bother to replenish because of the whole "giving up acting" thing I've got going on, remember that I have a high-res scan of my pic, thank Athena that I just changed the toner in my printer, print a pic, head out the door, and arrive just barely in time and sweating. I did not freak out, fall down or throw up. It went well. I like acting; it's like a favorite pair of super comfy jeans.

That's how it's marked in my calendar; it's how I've always marked it in my calendar. The notation hasn't changed, but I have. I haven't performed in a full-length show in over a year, and haven't auditioned for anything in just about 2 years. I feel ... ambivalent. I'm not sure that I really truly understood the nature of ambilvalence until now. I've ususally used that word either (a.) to describe something akin to reluctance, (b.) when I couldn't care less, or (c.) in order to avoid commitment. No longer will I disrespect this excellent and perfect word. AUD. Nobody is more surprised than I.

I was featured in an essay that Mike Daisey wrote for The Stranger this past week. If you read this blog or know me pretty well, it's easy to identify the friend of the story as me. Setting aside the main thrust of the essay for a minute and focusing on ME because this is MY BLOG ... It was interesting to read my situation as a story. Mike sent it to me before it went to print, and I giggled when I read it. Because I seem so tragically romantic, which is not how I feel inside. But what he writes does not ring false, and I endorsed it fully. Because it is sad, isn't it? I live my life - it is impossible to view my own life as a narrative. I've come to peace with whatever this decision might mean for me and my future, or else I wouldn't've been able to make the decision in the first place. But as a narrative, it's kinda fucking depressing, for real. If it wasn't me - if I didn't know the person Mike was talking about - I would've felt a ta...

LOTSA CHANGES! (You get a super special secret kiss if you can name or describe that BFL show and/or sketch.) Oh, by the by ... I've given up theatre again. You can see my past reflections on this subject (in chrono order): here (in which I break up with acting) , here (in which acting & I patch things up) , and here (in which I continue to question my relationship with acting) . I haven't spilled much about my experience with The Women at ACT Theatre. As long as I live, I will think of that production as a gift. An incredibly unique, wonderful and truly special experience. I really have nothing bad to say about it. I loved every minute. And yet, ironically, it was during the production that I realized that my previous semi-facetious disavowal of acting was perhaps actually my prescient subconsciousness prepping me for future action. During the show's process, I looked at the actors around me (in and out of the show). They mainly fall into 3 categories. They ...

I am the most tired I remember ever being while simultaneously being in an incredibly good mood. An incredibly good mood does not necessarily equal patience with others when I'm this tired. It wasn't until we were up & running fully after opening night that I realized ... I'm not in this play very much at all. I'm not complaining, mind you. It's just interesting that the rehearsals were deceiving. Time spent in the rehearsal room did not equate to onstage time. It did, however, correlate to time spent changing my costumes & wigs When I'm tired, I pretty much eat anything I crave. I've finally passed some magic threshhold -- I feel way worse when I don't work out than when I do. Riding the bus is actually easier than driving & parking. I miss you all terribly. I am sad to miss you, but I'm having a ball.

Ego is a funny thing, isn't it? It comes on unbidden, to the best and worst of us. It has many flavors. Sometimes it's called self-esteem , and it reminds us that we actually are pretty great. Go a little further down that road and you run into self-importance , which makes others want to punch you. Keep going until dawn and you enter megalomania ... a hateful land where nobody will come visit. Backtrack and head the other direction and pretty soon you'll find pride , which is a nice place to visit but you wouldn't want to live there. And make sure you don't take a wrong turn into self-righeousness ! Winding through the entire land is the river of insecurity . I loved mixed metaphors. Oh shit, I forgot I had a point. Don't go yet! I have a very small part in this play. So small that even though I play 3 parts, it's still small. I'm just about 37 years old (years young , rather - YEAH!). I've been around this town for almost 15 years, an...

FACT: There are more female actors than male. FACT: There aren't as many parts written for women as men. FACT: The pecentage of "quality" roles narrows down the field even farther in comparison. Every actress in every city in every format in every genre knows this line up & down. Most of the time, we (actresses) know each other through auditions - and, of course, almost always reading for the same roles. Can you imagine the company meeting the first day? There was about 100 people in the room, introducing themselves and what they do. "Peggy Gannon, actress." 16 of us out of 100, "So-and-so, actress." Not an "actor" to be found. I cannot tell you how thrilling it was ... you don't know you've been missing it until you get it. And in spades, baby! Sixteen beautiful, talented women, most of whom I've watched and admired for countless years. I've been very lucky in this regard - I've been in several all-female shows in th...

I started rehearsals Tuesday for my first professional show in ages. Saying this, naturally, makes me want to tangentially debate myself regarding the use of the word "professional" when applied to the theater, but I will leave that for the bar -- presumably after a few drinks. For simplicity's sake, I mean a decent wage-earning acting contract at a large Equity theater. Obviously, I've given up giving up acting . Well, who can blame me ... how else am I going to get rich and famous? Anyway, it's The Women , at ACT Theatre . It's a huge play, and it's going to be all kinds of Gorgeous. It's also going to be a technical mule. But other people who are really good at what they do get paid to worry about that, so I just get to enjoy the acting process. Or not enjoy it, as may be on some days. I adore first rehearsals -- the same way I adored the first day of school. There's often food, and a company meet'n'greet , and paperwork to wrap up, and ...

Remember - back in the 80s - when I gave up acting ? Well, the truth is that I apparently can't keep my hands off acting. We fought for awhile, but now I guess we're back on. On again, off again. Just like a high school love affair. But that's not exactly apt, because acting is legion. It's not just one boyfriend that I keep falling out with, but a whole bunch of different boys who are kinda sorta different, but end up eventually bugging the shit out of me for the same reasons. Therefore, just like life, I need to make better choices. I will only date acting when it's really worth it, and not just when I'm lonely and need a cuddle. I have boys for that.

Here's a photo to stave off my guilt until I post again. This is me on my first entrance in The Tempest (on the lake) , which closed last weekend. So fun, I can't even tell you. I haven't had withdrawal from a show in awhile.

If you saw the title of this past and you thought to yourself, "Ooh, iambic pentameter!" or perhaps, more specifically, "Aha, Shakepeare!" - then you very well might begin to understand the hell I am in. Don't get me wrong; I love Shakepeare. Adore, actually. Reading it, deciphering it, acting it, watching good actors perform it. Love. It. Like. Crazy. But I am in rehearsals currently for Shakespeare's King John (an all-female version, and it's gonna be so good). Yes, it's amazing, blah blah blah, but aside from all that --- it's taking over my brain. I walk around all day trying to make my conversations fit into blank verse. I can't friggin' read a book, article or even email without forcing this poetic rhythm on these bits of poor unsuspecting prose. (And really - is there any prose quite so prosaic as modern speech and communication?) Even right now, I've tried to go back and examine this post for it's adherence to iams. O God ...

Should I give up on having a life in the theater? I've let go of my acting career, but it won't let go of me. By Cary Tennis Dear Cary, I never explicitly grew up with the need to become an actress -- it was never a life's goal -- but nevertheless I graduated with a degree in theater (I had fallen in love with Shakespeare) and went on to audition for, be accepted in, and finish an MFA professional actor training program out West. I moved to New York like aspiring actors are supposed to do, got tired of temp jobs and being lonely and broke and living off of friends and not having an agent. I left after only five months to take advantage of another job opportunity in another state -- in a different field 180 degrees away from theater. So here's what prompted me to hit the Send button: I went to a play last night, something I rarely do nowadays because it's a surefire way to unleash old demons. The theater is incredibly seductive -- or at least my memories of it are. N...

POP QUIZ! You’ve just seen a show that your friend is in (let’s call him/her ‘Max’). You’ve stayed after to say hello, and Max asks you, “Hey, whadja think?”* You: A.) tell Max exactly what you thought (whether or not you liked it); or B.) say, “Nice work!” (whether or not you liked it). HINT: I’m telling you right now that there is only one right answer to this question. Alright, I’ll give you another hint – the answer is B, people, OPTION B!!! Option A is not only wrong, but it is so wrong in so many ways . Dude, seriously … really uncool. (Of course, this only becomes a problem if one did not like the show. But who are we kidding … the people who answered “A” never like anything.) Also (heads up)! You may not cheat and say something like, “Max, you were great! But the show sucks ass.” Not allowed. No good. Lord-a-mercy, TRUST ME! It doesn’t make Max feel any better that s/he was the only good part in a clump of cowboogers. An expense of spirit in a waste of shame … that way, madness...

Kids, right? I am working on a show right now with a bunch of kids. Seriously … me and the guy who plays my husband are the only 2 full-fledged card-carrying grown-ups, and then 3 half-adults (read: 25 or under), and a slew of 10-17 year-olds. It’s completely daunting. I have no idea what they’re thinking, and I have no frame of reference to even guess. Am I even semi-cool? Am I a complete dork just like I was in high school? Am I standoffish and snobby like I used to think most adults were? Do they care? Do I care? Do I care if they care? Do they care if I care if they care? So … huh. Interesting. I guess I care. And what’s that they say about kids & dogs (& robots or something)? Never work with them because they’ll upstage you every single time? I’m here to tell ya … it’s the truth, the little hooligans! And that’s exactly why you should work with them, every chance you get. These kids work my ass off, and god(dess) bless ‘em for it. Ain’t no free ride in this cast, Gannon. T...

We’re snots. We are. We complain all the livelong day about reviewers … they’re so mean, they didn’t like me, they don’t support live theatre, they hate art. You know what? Call the wahmbulance. People in the biz are way worse than reviewers. We just don’t put our snotbag comments in print; we kibitz over beers instead. It’s next to impossible for us to go to the theatre with an open mind. This is a function of being in the biz, I’m afraid. We know too much. The magic doesn’t impress us anymore. It’s fringe theatre, so we assume it won’t be very good quality. It’s a professional house, so we assume it will be commercial schlock. We’ve seen this play before. We’ve been in this play before. I mean, jeez! At least the reviewers actually *see* plays — sometimes we don’t even bother to see them before passing judgment. I was at lunch the other day with a friend, and we were talking about shows we needed to see and what we’d seen that we liked, and what we should go see but probably were goi...

I had this audition today; it was an Equity general. I’m non-Eq, but a lifetime ago I got my EMC status by understudying at the Rep in the worst play I’ve ever had the misfortune of reading -- much less having to sit and listen to the piece of demon crap through the monitors every single show, 8 times a week. I had nightmares about this freakin’ play. Top of the show, I would start out doing a crossword puzzle in the green room, humming to myself (loudly), having frantic desperate conversations with anyone … anything to shut out this Chinese water torture of a play. Nope. Didn’t even make through Act 1 before I punctured my eardrums with my pencil, gouged my eyes out with the eraser, and ran naked and battered through Seattle Center begging people to tie me to the fountain and let me freeze there. Of course, that’s the only gorgeous, warm spring I can remember EVER in this weather-freakhouse of a city. But GOD BLESS IT! This was my first “real” job; a professional gig at a theatre wher...