And I'm back to pressing my nose to the grindstone.
Class registration is way too close for comfort - I have yet to even begin considering what classes I'm taking other than the Circle in the Square, so I need to have a meeting with my academic advisor or I'm kinda screwed. And I forgot to call her. Crap.
(Just sent an email to her, so hopefully this will work out just fine.)
I have yet to pick my Irene Ryan scenes or monologue, and though I've tentatively selected a partner, there is always the chance she says no or will get a nomination of her own, and then I'm royally screwed. Though these scenes should be an incredible priority in my life, right now, I'm currently caught up in...
Long Day's Journey scenework! Again! For the redo on Thursday at the Monte Cristo Cottage in New London, CT! So besides having to relearn all of these lines and adding the self-loathing she wanted into the scene, I will have the incredible pressure of performing Mary Tyrone in the house where the play happened. Or, where O'Neill grew up and the characters were real. So I'm kind of terrified that if I suck, the ghost of Mary O'Neill/Tyrone will haunt me and possess me and kill me or something. But for now it's just relearning the lines that will ruin me. For now.
I also have to write a little philosophy response paper. Random normal college work in the middle of artistic mayhem.
Returning to artistic mayhem. My one-act requires being off book in a week, which is no sweat, seeing as how I have the most lines and there's only 26 of them. The real problem with this show is what I call the TardTrio; a glorified triangle of theatrical authority consisting of director/SM/ASM. None of the people in that triangle should be there. That's all I'll say, for the moment. My head hurts thinking about it.
On a lighter note, I recieved soul-food motivation type stuff from a situation other than the high of performing or being in the glow of NYC; my dance professor gave us a little pep talk shpeal as part of his introduction to the Jazz unit of our class. I'll paraphrase some snippets for your reading pleasure.
"Whatever you suck at, work at it. Make it better. A casting director once came up to me after a vocal audition and said 'well, don't you ever let anyone tell you you're not a singer!' and I was like 'um, nobody ever has.' I'm a dancer, so casting directors always assume that 'oh, you're a dancer, you can't sing,' which, if you're lazy and don't really care, can probably be true. But I took lessons and worked to make sure that I was good. You have to be that multi-faceted person."
"Do all sorts of theatre. You're an actor, fine, but I did costumes for years and years before I got my skinny ass onstage. You never know what they're looking for, but the more you've got going for you, the better off you are - some theatre company might need a box office director and a leading man; why not you? Everything about theatre should be a part of your repertoire. There are so many jobs in theatre that aren't onstage that nobody even really thinks about. Seriously. Think about it."
"Always work towards that final goal of yours. Think about it this way, in this competitive business of ours - right now, at this very moment, while you're standing here listening to me, someone who wants to be a star as much as you just finished a voice lesson or a dance class or an auditions workshop. Everything you do needs to be passionate and for that final goal. You have to be better than the other person. Don't stop."
Hats off to you, Larry. Sorry I totally slaughtered your quotes.
Now I really need to do homework. None of this will matter if I'm sucking in academia.
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