Do you know that song? Well…that’s what I sang for my audition last night for the Farnham Operatic Society’s production of Guys & Dolls. As I was only auditioning for the chorus and no leading role, the assistant director was very supportive and assured me that it’s no biggie. She said they only want to see if I can carry a tune and if I can read a small monologue with a bit of emotion.
No problem. I practiced at home with a virtual keyboard two times and read the monologue over once or twice.
Last night during rehearsal, several people wished me “good luck”. That gave me pause. Soon the director approached me and asked if I was “doing OK”. Then my stomach did a little lurch. Why all the concern? I thought this was an informal, just-want-to-see-if-you-can-carry-a-tune type of thing…just between friends.
The cast of the show was dismissed and another drama-wanna be and myself were left standing. I was asked to go to another room and wait until they called me.
Then I felt extremely nervous and the possibility that my musical skills might not be up to scratch started to creep into my consciousness.
The door opened and I was called into the audition room. It was my turn, and there I stood before six other cast members, the director and the musical director. They were all seated at a long table with their hands folded on top. I stood in the center of the room alone, holding my little sheet music and little script. The papers began to tremble. I read the small monologue (it was done in an American southern drawl so I got that down pat.) When I finished everyone applauded and laughed and said, “oh! well done!”
Then I had to sing. My mouth went dry. I croaked out Marvin Hamlisch’s “What I did For Love” and when I got to the high notes, my voice went into falsetto and wavered. Then I had an out of body experience wherein I just watched myself stand there shaking and croaking and perhaps even a little bit of pee ran down my leg. When I finished, the people seated at the table were silent and the director said, “Thank you, Kim. We’ll let you know by email if you were successful.”
I tucked my tail between my legs and came home and tried to figure out how I was going to spin it when I had to tell everyone that I wasn’t going to be in the musical, after all.
They must have been desperate. The email came late last night. I’ve been accepted.