11 things I learned from my latest audition saga.

Finally, here is the story, as promised, of my latest audition adventure. While it is absolutely ridiculous and I in no way condone my general unpreparedness, I'm quite proud of myself. Turns out the "No Excuses" rule in my life is working. So here it goes:

Backstory to this: I found a really great monologue in a book and I really want to do it for something. I haven't worked on it. I haven't memorized it. I haven't really done anything beyond make that decision. When I scored this audition I was sure I was going to use this new monologue. And then it was the day before the audition. Oops.

1. Keep a book of monologues you have worked on. This makes picking one as simple as turning the page.

I decided to go with the old standard audition monologue. A wise decision, given it was made the day before the audition. And only after a frantic internet search for the text. The plus here was that I actually liked the internet version's cut better than my own, even if mine is closer to the play. This did present a last minute re-memorization predicament, of course. And I feel all this procrastination may have been the result of my well-documented hatred of audition monologues. Or it may have been because I forgot about the audition...

Okay, technically speaking, I didn't forget so much as it just crept up on me. I swear I thought I had more time! Apparently I did not take into account the impact of the holiday insanity on my preparedness. But, in the midst of a chaotic work week, I pulled it together. Sort of.

2. Rehearse your monologue. Remember, a polished monologue takes time!

I located the text of my monologue on Wednesday, memorized it in 2.5 seconds that night (the real reason for choosing something I was already familiar with), repeated it a few times in the A.M. and had a minor panic attack due to the lack of minutes between me and the audition. To calm myself, I decided in my non-committal way to come home between work and the audition. I effectively gave myself a loophole: staying downtown to kill the significant amount of time between work and audition would have forced me to actually go to the audition. Going home meant I could go or I could not go. Nothing like a little last minute vacillation.

3. Every well-prepared actor should have a stockpile of headshots and resumes. You never know when you might need one.

I managed to block the whole impending audition thing out during my day at the office. In fact, it wasn't until my driver (AKA uncle) was standing in front of me with his coat on at 5:30 PM that I realized I had neither headshot nor resume printed. Thank goodness he's a patient man. So I ordered prints online--not the most cost-effective way to do it, I assure you, but I need new headshots so I don't want fifty of the current one hanging around--and printed my resume. All at lightening speed. And as I settled into my heated leather seat for the ride home, I was still undecided--to audition or not to audition? Apparently, that was the first question...

4. Establish a pre-audition routine that works for you. Go into it relaxed and ready!

At home, I spent an hour on my back channeling all my years of Alexander/Feldenkrais/Strasberg/Yoga training and technique--my attempts at relaxation. I feel like I've been wearing my shoulders as earings for months now. It isn't pleasant. Then I dragged myself to the shower, got dressed, put makeup on, checked the clock every other minute--if you've ever done anything by rote, you get how this went. Mindless. Machine like.

And then I left. It wasn't so much an active decision that moved me out the front door. It was more like something inside me just knew I was going to go and said, "Stop making excuses and start moving..." And, really, who am I to fight these forces? So I walked to my local Black's feeling pretty decent about the whole thing. Until: lights out, doors locked. Insert expletive. In my lightening speed, I read the wrong store hours and assumed they were universal. Again, expletive. Defeat. Sort of.

5. A first impression is key to casting: arrive early and prepared.

So I stood there staring at the closed store for a while. And then I decided, screw this. I showered. I put make up on. I told my friends I couldn't hang out because I had an audition. I'm going. The worst they can do is not see me and maybe that will teach me a lesson about being prepared. And yes, I will look like an A*hole for not having my headshot, but I think that would be categorized under "things that are my own fault." It was a whole "you made your bed now lie in it" conversation in my head. And off I went. Being angry (even if it's with yourself) can be productive. It's kind of exhilirating.

I was riding that high until the theatre came into view. Then the panic set in--the tightening of the chest, the short breaths, the whole bit. Here is my issue: I hate being late for anything but I also hate having to sit around waiting for upwards of fifteen minutes. It throws what little focus I have in audition settings. My cure is to keep moving. It settles me. It puts me in my zen place. Or whatever. So there I was, circling the block while reciting my monologue. Trying not to let anyone see my lips moving. Just another crazy person.

6. Thinking of auditions as competitions is counter-productive. It isn't really about being better than everyone else, but about being the best you can be.

Eventually I went in. Still early enough to satisfy my anal retentiveness, but not early enough to have to sit in some stuffy room forever with every other actress auditioning. I don't like the intimidation game, I don't believe in it, and this situation almost always leads to it. And by some miracle, they were running on time. Early, even. Several people didn't show, apparently--I should add that I had no contact number for the audition. I couldn't call to cancel. I probably would have after the Black's debacle, but I firmly believe that the only thing worse than showing up unprepared is not showing up at all. And I took this as a good sign. To the best of my understanding, auditions were scheduled by playing age. No shows means less competition amongst the 18-24 female set. Bonus.

7. Always follow your instincts. When nerves hit, instinct is your most reliable tool.

Enter the audition gauntlet. It was a crowd. Seriously. Easily fifteen people. I was not expecting this (I'm not sure why I wasn't since I knew it was an audition for multiple plays). Secretly, this was really exciting. My audition monologue works way better with a crowd. I rejoice. And then I sit down. Wrong move. This is not at all the right physicality for this monologue. And now I don't know what to do with my hands. Expletive. Too late, I'm already talking. Well, you win some, you lose some. Mental note to figure that one out beforehand in the future.

8. Don't be afraid to take risks. They might work out.

They seemed to dig the monologue. It is, after all, a darn good monologue. And they seemed to be enjoying passing my resume around (score one for my big name university with its even bigger price tag). I relaxed a bit, given that I knew I could handle the rest. I eat cold reads for breakfast. Okay, maybe not, but I do like them better. And then this:

"Can you do a French accent?"

"Yes." (I haven't done a French accent in at least three years.)

"Could you do the beginning of your monologue with a French accent?"

(Internal monologue expletive at exactly the same time as:) "Sure!"

And I pulled one out of you can probably guess where. A pretty good one at that. Confession: I am kind of a perfectionist when it comes to technical things like this. I am actually a big dialects nerd. I was forced at my fancy schmancy school to learn the International Phonetic Alphabet in first year. As soon as I figured out how this made dialects happen, I was hooked. And I am actually really, really good at them. It's the one thing I will give myself. But I like the IPA approach and that takes time, off the cuff is another story. Even I impressed myself by pulling that one off. And acting like it was nothing. This was turning out okay after all.

9. Listen and absorb all notes in an audition. You are here to show, more than that you're right for the part, that you can be directed.

I read for two more things--one well, the other not as much. The one that I read well was fairly easy. I got it, I could relate to it, and I think I took the note I was given in the couple of lines I had to work with. The one that didn't work so well, I should have asked the question in my head when I was given the note instead of assuming I got it. I had seen the side in the lobby before and had already decided the part was not for me. Which was unfortunate because it seemed like a really good part. It was just way outside my realm of experience. But maybe if I had asked my question I would have been more believable than I was. Or maybe some things just aren't believable (see: Tom Cruise in Valkyrie). Or maybe I should just stop casting myself while at auditions--after all, casting directors will probably pigeon hole you all on their own, why help?

And then it was done.

10. Post audition: evaluate without over-analyzing.

I walked away feeling good about the whole thing. Then, of course, the "I shoulda" rant came on in my head. This is the hard part--waiting without going crazy. There will always be things I could have done differently or should have done differently. But obsessing really won't get me anywhere. Evaluation is important--figure out what worked and what didn't and take productive steps from there. But you can't change what's already happened, no matter how much you dwell on it. So auditions ended on Sunday and call backs are on the weekend (ring phone, ring!). I'm cautiously optimistic. Despite all the ridiculousness, it wasn't a terrible audition. And, whatever the case, there will be other auditions. Even ones I will be prepared for! But this rather fubar-ed audition reminded me of these words of wisdom from my former dialects teacher:

11. "Don't worry so much about being great that you can't even be good."

Perfection isn't always possible. Things happen. Don't make excuses. Roll with the punches. Do the best you can under the circumstances. Then, keep going. It's all you can do.


And, as an added end of night bonus, a lazy-eyed, leering, seemingly drunken Eastern European man stalked me onto the subway and, after watching me for five stops or so, he gave me his card and said, "When you have the courage, drop me a line."



I think I'll stick to auditioning, thanks, where just being good really isn't so bad...

Self-Sabotage. Or Is It?

I have an audition tomorrow night and, true to form, no audition monologue. Or, rather, I have options and have just not yet chosen one. I've been tempted to cancel the audition approximately 6,315,479 times in the last week but I will not allow myself to be such a cop out. It's my own fault because this is how I roll, but I honestly did think I would have more time to work on it and that time all just flew by. I will no doubt be memorizing something at my desk tomorrow. But then again, this is how I got into theatre school. And RADA. So it has a reasonable history of success. How will it serve me this time? I shall keep you posted.

How to audition for theatre school.

I was recently asked to give some advice to a friend of The Photographer’s little sister (we’ll call her The Camper—the sister, not the friend—because, though we are all campers in his family and in mine, she has been on the longest, craziest canoe trip and therefore is most deserving of the title…) who is auditioning this winter for my obscenely expensive prestigious alma mater. I have sent said friend a rambling email or two at this point, which she claims has been helpful much to my relief, and I thought I should share some of my insights here. I don’t really claim to be an expert (yet), but I did audition for, attend, and graduate from (with honors, thank you very much—and minus the u as it is an American school) one of the top drama schools in the U.S., if not the world. So I would think my advice does carry some weight…plus, she is not the first person to ask for my thoughts and there are some common questions. So here I go in five simple steps…

1) Auditioning for drama school is not the same as auditioning for your high school play. Or any other play for that matter. Generally, when you audition for a play whoever is casting that play is watching you to see if you make sense as a specific character. They’re looking at you for “type” (which is one of the worst words in theatre, but we will talk about that some other time) and to see how you would fit into a production on the whole. When you audition for theatre school none of those things apply—no one is looking for you to be a certain “type” or character or to fit you into a preconceived production aesthetic. They aren’t even necessarily looking at whether or not you’re a good actor. They are looking at whether or not you are mouldable. It’s all about whether or not they can turn you into a great actor, which has very little to do with already being one. Think about it, if you are already perfect, why would you need to go to theatre school in the first place? They want to see how you take direction, how you think about and process things, how you are capable of changing—this is very much a rehearsal and not a performance. That is generally how I feel about auditions anyway, but especially in this case, focus on working with the person conducting the audition and don’t worry about being perfect. They’re looking for potential, not perfection.

2) Don’t try to be anything you’re not. I realize that seems really simple, but so many people overlook it. This applies to basically everything about the audition, but mostly to the audition monologues. Now, I hate audition monologues on principle and I think that “contrasting, contemporary monologues” are the three most evil words in the English language, but the fact of the matter is they are important. Now, “contrasting” can mean just about anything, so feel free to branch out from “dramatic” and “funny.” Especially “funny.” “Funny” for females in less than two minutes is hard to find, plain and simple. The difference can be subtler, like “anxious” and “in love.” The point is not to do two monologues with the same feeling—but don’t stress too much, no one is going to cross you off the list based on the degree to which your monologues contrast (or don’t). It is far more important to pick something you connect with, that resonates with you, than it is to pick something because it’s different from the first thing you picked.

Also, “classical” does not necessarily mean Shakespeare. Although for my intents and purposes, it usually does. Shakespeare is great for theatre school auditions because, frankly, there’s a lot for an eighteen year old to choose from (but don’t do it if you don’t understand it or if you can’t do it well, there is other classical material out there). This brings me to the second part of this section: in high school or community theatre productions, we often play more of what we aren’t—think high school students playing Jean Valjean in Les Mis or someone under the age of 105 starring in King Lear—and there is definitely a place to push those boundaries. This is not it. Stick close to what you know; this will make it easier to connect to the material and to focus when you are shaking and terrified in your audition, which will make you less shaky and terrified.

3) Drama schools admit people. So be a person. The real upside to drama school auditions is that they’re interested in who you are as a person. No one may ever be again in the entertainment world, or at least not for a while, so take advantage of that. And think about it beforehand. Most of these auditions also involve an interview of sorts. It’s important to be honest and not just to say what you think people want to hear or expect to hear—I will never forget the reaction of the man I auditioned for when he asked how my parents felt about my proposed career and I said “Good” as if it were nothing. This is an opportunity for you to make your case and to express yourself in your own words—so do it well! Granted, this may be more difficult if you aren’t adept at speaking off the cuff, but there are some questions you can probably expect to hear: Why do you want to go to school here? Why do you want to be an actor? On the former, do your research, on the latter, “because I want to be famous” is not an acceptable answer, even if it is true. Remember, drama schools are interested in turning out quality actors, and most quality actors are people first.

4) Make yourself memorable by dressing the part. Technically, you should already be memorable because of your dazzling conversational skills and brilliant monologue choices. But in case that isn’t enough, there is something really simple you can do to stand out and to stick in their minds after the fact. For some reason actors really love to wear black. Don’t. Or not all black, at least. Guaranteed at least half the people you audition with will be clad all in darkness but, please, embrace color. Black is classic and wonderful but will not distinguish you in this situation. And what you wear is another opportunity to show your personality. Ideally, you should look like yourself but a little more put together, not necessarily dressed up. If you wear jeans and a t-shirt every day of your life, don’t change that. Just make sure it’s clean, not wrinkled, and maybe consider throwing a button down shirt over that. Keep in mind, too, that you may need the freedom to move for your audition, so be comfortable. It sounds so simple, I know, but look around at your audition and see how many people don’t do it.

5) Prepare. Prepare. Prepare. And then stop worrying about it. Preparation means a lot of things. First, do your research before you apply and know exactly what the school has to offer. This will help you to formulate ideas for the interview part of your audition and to have a clearer understanding of what, exactly, you’re getting yourself into. Next, don’t leave your monologues until the last minute because it will just stress you out: I am the Queen of Procrastination. I actually hold that title. I memorized one of my monologues on the plane to my audition and pretty much wanted to vomit the whole time. I really don’t recommend it. Granted, last minute panic works for me, but it isn’t terribly pleasant. Now, you’re bound to come up with some questions while you’re doing all this—see if you can find someone to ask. If you can find an alumnus to talk to, that is definitely the best bet, especially if they’re a recent grad or current student because the experience will still be fresh for them. Plus, they’ll have the most up to date info. Failing that, call the school to see what they can tell you or who the can put you in touch with. If it’s a general question, there are forums all over the web. There’s me! And ask anything and everything. Even if it seems silly or trivial. The more info you have the more comfortable you will feel about the whole thing. And finally, forget about it. When everything is said and done, after you’ve auditioned there is nothing more you can do. So don’t worry about it. It is out of your hands. And, provided you did everything you should have before the audition, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about after.

Spreading Holiday Cheer On A Budget.

Apologies for the lack of activity today, I'm not feeling all that well. It's the cold that just won't go away (note to self: more than six-ish hours of sleep per night would probably make an enormous difference). Oh, and the day job. And the holidays, for which I am sadly unprepared...which leads me to what I do have to say today.

Having now lost my mind completely, I decided it would be a good idea to cross some items off my Christmas shopping list this past weekend. At the Eaton Centre. What was I thinking? Excellent question. Well, it appears I was very concerned with spreading the holiday cheer at bargain prices. Either that or there is no other time in my life between now and December 25 in which to get it all done. Regardless, I, along with approximately 8.73 million other people, ended up shopping the Eaton Centre this weekend. And, I have to say, despite the insane hordes of holiday shoppers, there were some beautiful things to be seen.

First, the Swarovski Christmas tree is up in the middle of the mall and impossible to miss. I should have taken a picture to post here (a task at which I failed all weekend), but you really have to see it in person to appreciate its glowing goodness. I am actually a big proponent of the more Charlie Brown-esque features of Christmas trees and, while beautiful, it isn't really my holiday tree ideal. But it is worth seeing and appreciating. And it does benefit charity, I believe. Although I'm not totally clear on how. My head is a little fuzzy.



Moving on, I elbowed my way through the masses at Indigo for the book lovers on my list (including me) only to discover that The Canadian Tenors were singing and signing. Now, I didn't go in for the signing, largely due to time constraints, but they sounded just as beautiful as they looked. They did a really lovely version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. They also have a new CD out and are performing tonight and tomorrow in Toronto.

As a side note, I found a really great book at Indigo that I've been meaning to read for a while: A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews. If you are female and at all interested in finding alternate sources for monologues, this is one you should definitely check out. This is giving away trade secrets because I certainly intend to use it at my next audition. If you're not interested in these things, I still recommend it as a good read.

Finally, Christmas shopping on a budget is difficult (duh). Especially when you really do want to find nice things for people with more $$$ than you. But, unfortunately, part of being a "starving artist" is that you generally are not rolling in the dough. So, may I propose a few Christmas gift ideas that are particularly good under these scenarios, and especially for the kind of people who basically already have everything--like, say, The Photographer's parents. If anyone on your list enjoys cooking, check out Williams-Sonoma. They have neat kitchen gadgets that are fairly inexpensive as well as lots of really delicious sauces, drinks, etc. I highly recommend drink mixes that can be given with mugs--such as hot chocolate or mulling spices or anything of that nature. It is, after all, the spirit and intent that are most important...but you still want to give something nice that will be appreciated.


Another option is a nice framed picture, if you have a particularly good picture of the recipient or a place that is special to them...this is probably easier when your boyfriend is The Photographer. If all else fails, the picture frame itself will do. Pottery Barn has an excellent selection.

Finally, As a personal touch, I also include with all my gifts a Christmas ornament that in some way relates to the recipients' interests...Pottery Barn can also be good for those, amongst other places.


Happy holiday shopping! I hope you all manage to find some beauty in the insanity of it all, too. And I promise to be more put together tomorrow...

Talk is cheap. Apparently, so is reading.

Well, it's good to know that someone out there is still making money. And that it isn't even necessarily an evil empire. It might actually be artists. Authors, specifically. Apparently, the publishing industry has proven to be fairly recessive-proof thus far, at least in Canada (and knock on wood). Basically, due to many factors that I don't claim to fully understand, buying books in Canada at the moment is a bargain. If you would like all the technical details as to why that is, you can click here for the article in the Star. My only disclaimer is that I don't particularly recommend their featured author, Wally Lamb. I thought She's Come Undone was pretentious and condescending. Although I Know This Much Is True wasn't a bad read. Basically, his latest, The Hour I First Believed, could go either way, but I won't be picking it up anytime soon.



I'm not sure I will ever understand how it is that some people don't like to read (and celebrity magazines really don't count as reading). And I am certain I will never understand artists who don't like to read--books can provide a whole other world of ideas, characters, inspiration...not to mention how wonderful it is to jump on the bandwagon and pursue something before it becomes a movie. Plus, on occasion, you can find good audition monologue material in books. Frequently it requires tweaking, but it is still technically a published work. I think, as an artist, reading is part of your job. Fortunately, right now, the economy is making that part of your job easier. And if you still can't afford the investment, there is an even more inexpensive option--get a library card. Read books, newspapers, plays, and even, okay, the occasional celebrity mag. It's all character building, artist building material.

And the non-fiction is just as important. I recently finished reading Canadians by Roy MacGregor and thoroughly enjoyed it. He has some great insights into our national character and into what makes us tick. And I was surprised at how much of it I see in myself, given that I spent the latter half of my childhood in the U.S. Apparently the stamp of Canada on my self is indelible. And that is just fine with me. I also enjoyed, as much as one can, I think, General Dallaire's account of his time with UNAMIR during the Rwandan genocide in Shake Hands With the Devil (which has since become a motion picture and even spawned a documentary and movement called Not On Our Watch). This constitutes the general education requirement of being an artist, I think.

As for fiction, I just finished Brave New World by Alduous Huxley, a classic that I, for some reason, was not actually forced to read in high school. But it's definitely relevant to our times and certainly asks questions of the imagination. I also recently read Fall On Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald, a great Canadian author and playwright (Goodnight Desdemona, (Good Morning Juliet)), which I highly recommend to anyone, but especially to the women of the artistic world. I find her writing of women to be extremely interesting. And, if you do like Roy MacGregor, who is a journalist for the Globe and Mail, by the way, his fiction is worth checking out, too--Canoe Lake is his tale of events leading up to Tom Thomson's death in our own Algonquin Park.

Those are just my recent reads. If you would like more suggestions, check out your local bookstore. Or, if you're interested in exploring the landscape of Canadian authors, check out Noah Richler's tome This Is My Country, What's Yours? A Literary Atlas of Canada. It is a bit of a slow read, but entirely worthwhile. Failing that, his website gets right to the goods on the who's who and where they locate, geographically speaking.

Happy recession reading!

Saturday Audition Adventures

I went to an audition on Saturday night. I haven't been on an audition in quite some time--for many reasons. So I went. And it was...well, it was.

For some auditions, you walk in, you do your thing, you don't get much back from the other side of the table. And then you walk out and it's done. It doesn't feel like anything has happened. And you don't really feel anything in particular about it; you wonder what you should eat for dinner. That kind of audition. This was very much that kind of audition.

In all honesty, I think I realized halfway through the audition that I'm probably not right for the project. I would certainly do it if I got it, but it isn't really the most appropriate choice for me. On paper, I am intellectually attracted to it. But there's no pull, no tearing at the guts, no have-to-do-it feeling. It's also very sensitive subject matter; I have no immediate personal connection or relationship to it, so speaking the words feels a bit like trespassing. It would certainly be an interesting challenge and it would be tough, but it isn't necessarily right.

And it was bad cold read copy. Sort of. Some of it was. It was the kind of material that is really easy to do poorly. To sentimentalize it instead of to make it a reality.

Anyway, I went in and read through all of the monologue choices. There were way too many, literally there had to have been at least twelve. I got there 20 minutes early (early is on time, on time is late, and late may as well not even bother) and probably spent the first ten minutes just picking a monologue. My point is, it would have been easier if there had been fewer choices. There was no need for that many choices.

I finally picked one, read it over a few times, and just tried to relax. I had total indigestion (more a result of pizza and coffee than nerves, bad pre-audition choice) and just felt icky (okay, maybe some nerves). Eventually I went into the room and sat down and did my thing. On the one hand, I didn't think I was very believable. On the other hand, I didn't think I was totally unbelievable either. I took the minimalist approach and tried to just tell it (which was a traumatic experience, by the way) as much like one of my own memories as I could. I don't know if it was what they were looking for, but it's what I did. And I think I did it pretty well. At least, I definitely felt when I wasn't doing it. In that respect, I was proud of myself.

After that they gave me another piece to read. Same idea, more or less. They didn't really say anything. And I don't know if that was because they'd decided it wasn't worth it or because there just wasn't much else to say. I think it was the latter. So they stopped me partway through the second piece, gave me the rehearsal schedule info, and told me they'd be in touch in the next week or so. Short and sweet.

I may get it, I may not. The audition didn't really give me any indication one way or the other. And, really, I don't much care one way or the other. Which is sometimes a great way to audition, especially if you're just getting back into it. Every audition can't be a matter of life or death. Not that you should treat any audition as less important, but, let's face it, reality says that some of them are. If I don't get it, no worries. If I do, it will be a challenge and I'm sure I'll learn something. Nothing to do but wait and see!

Also, I'm glad I went, if nothing else. It means I started, which is sometimes the hardest part. And now all I have to do is keep the ball rolling...

So if you're thinking about doing something, stop thinking, and just do it. Jump in.

Audition monologues are basically the devil.

I submitted for a whole bunch of general auditions this past week and went home last night with this total sense of accomplishment. I was all gung-ho and totally excited about being so pro-active (because it really is harder to send in a headshot and resume than one might think...I was actually so wishy washy about one of them that I waited until the absolute last moment and had to have it couriered...ridiculous. But I digress). Until I realized that submitting is one thing, but if I actually get an audition, I am beyond screwed. Why is that? Because most general auditions require an audition monologue, no reading sides, and...

Audition monologues are the devil.

I am one of those rare actors that would so much rather read sides, cold read, do anything that is not an audition monologue. Here is why:

1) Audition monologues psych you out because they feel like a performance.
There is a whole performance mentality that comes into play when you get into audition monologues. It's something you have (supposedly) prepared and it's very difficult to go into it without thinking of it as a performance. Because what is it really? It's not a performance but you would gather that whoever is conducting the audition is expecting to see something more polished than if you were to walk in and pick up sides...For many people, myself included, this is crippling. It takes away from the idea that auditions are supposed to be (at least a little bit) fun and that they're about playing, exploring, taking direction, etc. and not about being perfect.

2) Picking an audition monologue is like trying to decide you'd rather be stabbed or shot while someone is standing over you with a knife and a 9 mm.
Finding the right audition monologue is unique to every audition because you want whoever is casting to see you in a particular role. I was told at drama school to treat casting directors like they're idiots and spell it out for them. Now, not all of them are idiots, but I did have one tell me once that based on my headshot, in which I am wearing a scarf, he wasn't sure whether or not I had a neck. I didn't ask what exactly he thought my head might be attached to if not a neck? The point is, even if they're not idiots, it is beneficial to you if you can help them. Which is why picking a good monologue is a key part of getting the part. And why you may frequently find yourself crying on the floor of your bathroom with a million Samuel French scripts scattered about you... Let's just say, it can be ugly. And "contemporary contrasting monologues?" Don't even get me started.

3) Cold reads are just a better way of assessing your skills as an actor (which may be why so many actors despise them--it's harder to hide).
Now, in reality, the best way may be to use both the cold read and the monologue. But if we're saying you have to choose between one or the other, the cold read is the better choice, in my opinion. They allow you to be more open and to make strong choices, "strong but wrong" is more acceptable in this environment, given that you don't know the material as well. In monologues, many of us tend to play it safe...Also, cold reads feel like acting class, a little bit dangerous, mostly supportive, and always creative. You discover things as you're doing it, which may just be what you need to illuminate your brilliance as an actor, in a way that is much more difficult to do with a monologue. From a casting standpoint, I would think it would be easier to assess whether or not someone is right for a particular role, how they work, what they might bring to the table in terms of creativity, and whether or not they can take direction.

There is obviously a certain bias to my statement that audition monologues are not, indeed, where it's at, but I really do believe that there are many good arguments against them.

Of course, that doesn't eliminate them.

So, if I am fortunate enough to score an audition or two out of my recent submissions, I guess I'm going to have to figure it out. I have an old favourite that is sort of appropriate (it's maybe a little old for me). I have never been good at finding audition monologues. So if anyone knows of any good resources, I would love if you passed them on to me! And I would certainly share them because I'm sure I'm not the only one with this frustration...