Waste of a Headshot

I recently did a really great audition. I sang well, I felt comfortable, and the kid in the hallway said, “I really shouldn’t say this – but that was lovely!”

Basically, I felt really good about the whole thing.

Then, oh my stars, I was called a few days later and invited to do a callback audition. HOW EXCITING! The director complimented me over the phone. I said, “Should I bring anything specific?” Meaning…do I need dance shoes and clothes because I suck at dancing. He said, “Just your beautiful voice!” Well, okay then. No problemo el Capitano!

I get to the callback and see two girls I know from school, and about five other girls I’ve never seen before. The room is weirdly silent. Legs are bouncing up and down underneath desks. People nonchalantly look over their resumes and headshots. Some sip as quietly as possible at their Starbucks grande teas.

I sit down, I say hello to my friends, and wait. In silence.

Finally, the whole humiliating process begins. We’re given music from the show in question and told that we’ll each sing each part. The music is for characters that I would never sing. A mezzo part and an older soprano part. Essentially – not what I signed up for. Immediately, I begin to question the whole callback situation. Why were we looking at this other music? I knew the two girls from my school would sing the same role as me, and I felt compelled to guess that most of the other girls were interested in that same part.

My thought: They’ve already cast the part I auditioned for. Why am I here?

Minutes later, a girl about my age and height strolls in like she owns the place. She greets the music director, director, and stage manager. She looks at the set designs. She talks over our singing. Then, the music director tells her that she will be reading lines with the men in the other room.

Hm. I’m pretty sure she’s not a man. Why would she be reading lines with them? Why is she dressed so casually, and why is she so comfortable being this late to a callback? And why does she know everyone already?

At this point in the callback, it became clear. I was not auditioning for what I had signed up for.

Now, I was angry. They were making me sing something that I wouldn’t do onstage, even if offered. They had me up against two people I felt were equal competition (the ones I knew) and five girls who had no business singing in public, ever. Next, they narrowed down the group to only the high sopranos, and gave us the music for the role I originally sang for. My hopes lifted. Perhaps that other girl, the one without any inhibition or tact, was merely a lighting designer. Or perhaps the dance captain.

I sang through the part, it was great. My friends were also great. The other girls were bad. Ok, I said it. They were not good. They sounded untrained. One was much older than the rest of us, and I wondered why they were having her sing for a role of a sixteen year old girl? Not only was she older, but her voice was weak and fatigued. She couldn’t hit any of the notes. Why were they wasting their time like this?

I’LL TELL YOU WHY. They were wasting their time on ALL of us, because they had no intention of giving any of us a role. Except perhaps someone they already knew.

My fears were confirmed the next day, when I got a call from the director. He left me a voicemail, saying,

“Hello. This is Schmucky Face McBigShot calling you about this show you auditioned for. Please call me back.”

I called him back, and unfortunately allowed my spirits to lift. Perhaps I was wrong yet again. Maybe he was offering me the role!

No, he was not.

What he offered me was, “…one of the sisters, not either of the named characters.” Translation: chorus. Background. Nothing.

Now, there is nothing wrong with singing in the chorus of any show. And maybe I’m stuck up for saying this, but I have a FREAKING MASTERS DEGREE in voice and I do not need to sing in the chorus of some community theater production bent on casting the same five people with no experience every time in roles they have no business performing.

I calmly thanked him for his consideration, but stated that I could not give up that much of my time for this particular production and role.

He had the audacity to say, “You know, I really wanted you in this production and you are really good. We just went in another direction.”

No – you didn’t go in another direction. You were only ever GOING in ONE direction, so to insult me by saying that you considered me at all and that I lost out to someone with no professional degree just pisses me off. YOU CAN TAKE YOUR WORDS AND YOUR FALSE PRAISE AND HIT THE ROAD, JACK.

You’ve caused me to waste TWO of my free evenings of the week. And honestly, one of them wasn’t even free. I had to cancel lessons I was teaching as well as cancel one of my OWN lessons to drive 25 minutes for a two hour callback for people who had no intention of casting me. FROM THE START. And I’m not about to give up three to four evenings a week to listen to someone squeak out notes and act poorly and generally cause me to fill with hatred-bile (yes, hatred-bile) until I explode into a million tiny pieces all over your “stage” and then give up on music completely. I have LOANS to pay. I need to WORK. I do NOT need to be taken advantage of and overlooked. THANKS BUT NO THANKS.

So, basically, I’m too good for community theater and I’m not good enough for actual programs and productions, but I won’t get cast in either type?

Lesson. Learned.