What do auditions have to do with liars, you ask?

Pablo Picasso once noted, “Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth.”  The same may be said of musical theater.

Audiences instinctively know that what they see on stage isn’t real.  And yet, if we skillfully execute “the lie” through believable deceptions of acting and artifices of scenery and staging, the audience may suspend disbelief long enough to appreciate the entertainment and universal truths conveyed through the theatrical arts.

It is up to all of us on the production team to support the storytellers on stage.  Working together, we must succeed in deceiving our audiences into thinking they have magically sunk to the ocean depths into the world of “The Little Mermaid.”  Or we have to convince them they have stepped into the nineteenth century milieu of “Little Women,” “Scrooge” or the settings of so many grand stories from that era and countless others.

So in effect, when we conduct auditions, we’re looking for a pack of credible liars!

With so many auditions conducted throughout the year at LifeHouse, a look “behind the scenes” at the process may be in order to demystify what can seem like an ordeal.

The Necessity of Auditions

Academy award-winning character actor Martin Landeau recently stated, “Ninety percent of directing is casting.”  While one could quibble over the percent ratio, I generally subscribe to Landeau’s view. While the audition process is imperfect, it is still vital.  Casting storytellers into roles requires the best possible fit and auditions do help.  Meeting potential performers and casting from their ranks is the final frontier before the nitty gritty of rehearsal begins.

The audition process is also what many have come to regard as a necessary evil.  I agree the process is both necessary and evil.

The audition process is necessary because it has stood the test of time as probably the most efficient way to discern “talent.”  No one seems to be able to definitively describe “talent,” but most of us know it when we see it.  Auditions are efficient because they make it possible to match talented actors to roles in as reasonable a time as possible.  Seeing a “micro performance” from each auditioner who individually sings, reads and dances, helps the audition panel of judges envision what the performer can do.  Can the actor be pictured in a leading role?  Perhaps a supporting role?

The panel—usually comprised of the producer, director, music director, choreographer and perhaps an acting coach—may also assess an auditioner’s vocal range and acting acumen.   Further considerations are mundane but necessary variables such as age, height and build.  No one wants to see munchkins tower over Dorothy. The panel must also ask if the performer can move.  Can the performer dance and sing at the same time?  It’s harder than it looks.  And consideration must be given to elusive intangibles such as charisma and confidence.  And, oh yes.  If you want to play Anne of Green Gables, will you dye your hair red if it isn’t already?  Meeting performers during auditions helps determine these matters.

The “Evil” of Auditions

So how is the necessary evil of auditions necessarily evil?  Let us count the ways.  Judgments about those auditioning are undeniably subjective. Yes, the audition panel could be wrong about its final casting choices. (But don’t tell this dirty secret to the performers chosen for the cast—they think the panel is beyond brilliant).  There is also something evil about having to make snap decisions based on an audition that is typically over in a matter of seconds.  Can one truly discern in mere seconds the sum total of a performer’s talent, experience, strengths and potential?  It’s routinely done this way on Broadway and has been for years. But still…

And then there’s the fright factor.  Even polished pros can find auditions nerve wracking and gut wrenching.  In the 26 years I have presided over auditions, I have seen rattled performers burst into song, burst into tears, burst into laughter, and just plain burst—bolting in a sudden scramble for the nearest restroom.  Blessedly, the latter situation is extremely rare.  In truth, LifeHouse auditions are generally of high caliber and offer ample evidence of the richness and diversity of the Inland Empire talent pool.

As one who was pleased to master tying my shoe laces by the fifth grade, I am especially in awe of the talented young people who audition at fairly tender ages.  It takes courage to perform before a panel of stoic strangers at any age, let alone at age ten. (I could not have done it at that age and I didn’t).  On the positive side, the poise and professionalism of so many youngsters we see throughout the year gives us hope for the future of our society.

The Work of the Audition Panel

Commentator Andy Rooney has observed, “I’d have more respect for actors if there weren’t so many people who do it well.”  The competition is truly keen.  The “talent pool” is larger and deeper than many may realize.

It is therefore with a sense of deep humility and sober responsibility that I deliberate with the audition panel.  We pray.  Resumes, photos, notes and ratings are examined and re-examined.  Discussion ensues.  There is a mental mixing and matching of performers and roles.  Hours pass.  Some choices seem obvious and easy.  Other selections prove difficult and require more discussion. And, since the ancient Egyptians, more women audition than men—and no one really knows why.  That disparity must also be addressed more often than not. Sometimes recruitment becomes necessary.

Finally, a consensus emerges.  There is a palpable peace about the final cast list.  We’re excited.

We’re also relieved.  Sometimes I cannot bear the thought of hearing one more refrain of “raindrops on roses” or one more reminder that “the sun will come out tomorrow.”  By two in the morning after a night of hearing “the sun will come out tomorrow,” I no longer care if it does.  And that’s not like me. But hearing it over and over would bring out the worst in anyone, wouldn’t it?  After a dozen renditions, I sadistically root for something else to come out tomorrow.  Perhaps a rising volleyball.  Maybe a banana.  Anything but the sun.

At last the casting results are posted on our website.  Many who have hovered over their computers in rapt anticipation of the cast list will find a thrill.  Others will be understandably disappointed.  I well remember such disappointments in my own youth—and beyond.  If we’re open to them, there are often good life lessons to be learned in these times of disappointment.

Helpful Audition Hints

Some thoughts to keep in mind when you prepare to audition—

• Have a clear, concise and neatly presented theatrical resume—a summary of your experience—ready to submit along with a flattering photo.
• Come to the audition prepared to sing 16 bars of the song of your choice, making sure you bring sheet music in the correct key.
• Be familiar and comfortable with what you decide to sing.  “Simple done well” is better than “ambitious done poorly.”
• It’s wise to sing something the panel is likely to know.  If they are wondering about what you are singing, they’re not focused on your talent.  It is also more difficult for them to assess whether you sang accurately.
• Practice in front of others who are likely to give you honest and helpful feedback.  See how you look in a mirror as you practice and check your inventory of facial expressions.

If you don’t make the cast after an audition, don’t give up.  My hope for all who are not included is that the initial discouragement will bloom into a resolve and determination to try again.  And again.

Sometimes it takes a bit of seasoning to become a successful stage “liar”—the kind who can convince audiences that illusion is reality.

And, of course—no matter what the outcome—we can all be encouraged by remembering the sun will come out tomorrow.  Bet your bottom dollar.