A touch of Thai

This past Friday I was invited to attend a dance workshop hosted by the Embassy of Thailand at the university. A friend of mine, who still isn’t sure how she ended up becoming the university’s liaison for the event, messaged me and asked if I would like to attend. Previous workshops and screenings held by different embassies at the university have always been informative in the past so decided to join. In spite of being a master’s student, and knowing that very few of the postgraduate students tend to attend to these workshops.

The previous dance workshop I attended was hosted by the Australian Embassy. I had arrived only 2 or 3 three minutes before the workshop’s designated time, but the warm ups had already started.  So I arrived 20minutes early for this workshop, determined not to be in the same position as last time. When I walked into the rehearsal space I was not surprised to see a gaggle of first year drama students. Now, as a 4th year postgraduate student the undergraduate students don’t know me and I don’t know them. And in the drama department this is not taken lightly. In the small department, which I am still slightly part of but mostly in name more than anything else, all the undergraduate and honours students know each other’s names and faces. And they are fiercely territorial about the lawns, which double up as our rehearsal spaces, around the drama department. In fact, they tend to defend these lawns from students of the hard sciences, such as engineers, who tend not to understand why they are rolling around on the grass making odd sounds. They don’t understand that it is part of our studies and we take our rolling around and weird noises rather seriously.

So when I walked into the rehearsal space some of the unfamiliar undergraduates got up awkwardly, expecting the unfamiliar face to be part of the workshop. When I threw my bags in a corner and sat down myself they awkwardly retreated to their early positions, mindful of the perceived predator in their midst.

On the hour, when the workshop was supposed to start I messaged the unwitting liaison, and asked if I had they right date, time and venue. I was assured that all was true, but was informed that the dance troupe from the embassy was late. Very late. Ten minutes later I received a pleading message, asking me to inform the students that the workshop would still be happening and the dance troupe was on their way. We all just had to sit tight a little while longer
.

“Hi Guys. Tarryn says the people from the Thai embassy are coming, they are just late. So please don’t leave”

The undergrads all knew who Tarryn was, and my knowledge of her, and message via her only served to add to the confusion of my origin. I went and sat outside in the sun again to wait the arrival of the dance troupe.

A Thai dancer, Tarryn-Tanille Prinsloo and myself after the workshop.

More than half an hour after the workshop had been scheduled to start the dance troupe, with all the females in heels, walked into the rehearsal space. Tarryn walked in showing a calm exterior, but when she spoke to me she revealed a slightly frazzled exterior.

“Chandré, I’m actually an introvert. And now I’ve had to small talk for the last hour and a half”

“Who with?”

“The Ambassador”

A photographer, Tarryn-Tanille Prinsloo and the translater from the embassy. All smiles and extrovert personality Tarryn says she saved her in her morning of never-ending small talk.

It's all in the Signs

I have no sense of direction. And many large theatres have large and intricate backstage areas…which are tricky to navigate. Especially if I’m nervous before an audition. More often than not when auditioning your name gets sent to the theatre before the time, so when you arrive at the theatre you names gets ticked off a list, and a member of the theatre staff takes you to the audition venue. And if I’m a touch nervous before said audition I don’t focus on where I’m going, and navigating my way back usually involves multiple wrong turns, and wringing my memory for a clue. Or waiting for a friend to finish their audition and hoping that they know their way about better than I do.

I must say, my audition last Monday was easier to navigate. I was just guided through the first door which leads to the general backstage area from the foyer and was almost expecting someone to walk with me when I saw the first sign…

What followed felt almost like a treasure hunt as I walked from arrowed sign to arrowed sign finding my way to the audition venue. Including the beauty next to the elevator which told me which floor to go to. I was particularly thankful as I had never wondered into this part of the theatre before, and would probably never have found the place if it hadn’t been for the multiple signs. And as per usual, the dancing audition did not fail to amuse me. 

Next to the elevator! Essential to know which
floor you are going too!

Just in case you think you should go up the stairs

It is only at a dancing audition for musical theatre that you’re the odd one out if you aren’t wearing sequenced or leather hot pants and fish-net stockings. With this specific audition we had been pre-selected on our photos and CVs before being notified that we were allowed to audition. It was interesting for me, as I usually know a few of the others at any given audition. Which is why it is good practice never to gossip at an audition because someone will know that person you're talking about. But this time I didn’t know anyone else. At all. Not even vaguely familiar face from somewhere. So with no one about of some authority, and none of the obligatory forms to fill in anywhere to be found I created my own spot on the floor and started warming up gently. No one appeared to be any the wiser as to what was coming, and usually the dancing round is first with musical theatre auditions, so most of the others were also warming up.

While in my corner I heard, what I gathered to be, the reunion of two of the other hopefuls after a lengthy period:

“What are you doing these days?”

A question often asked at these opportunities, in order to find out if someone had succumbed to taking a teaching or office job in order to pay for their habit of auditioning and sporadic jobs in the line of work they had actually trained for. Her reply was curt:

“Crying”

He was shocked. I stifled a laugh while pretending not to hear a conversation happening less than a meter away from me. And what followed was a soap-opera-tell-all tale of her life for the last few months. Including, I kid you not, a cheating boyfriend and a reality show about their lives, airing post-break up. She also claimed that this was one of her first auditions in about three years, as she hadn't needed to audition while dating said boyfriend. Work was offered to her. And so, in the 45 minutes we waited to start the audition I heard the tale of her life post-breakup as she related it to her friend. I didn't really have anywhere else to move to in the semi-cramped quarters during this exchange. And it did feel like a reality TV show.

Thankfully I was able to follow the myriad of signs back to the theatre’s foyer!

Spot the three signs leading me to the audition venue

Engaged: The role of a liftetime

It all started with a call from my agent about a Dove advert. He told me I had been chosen from my photo to go to the casting. He told me it was very important, and that I looked a lot like the girl in the reference photo.

“Have you received the email yet?”

I hadn’t

“I’ll just send it to you myself quickly. The venue where they’re holding the auditions doesn’t have place for you to change, so make sure you’re ready for the audition when you arrive. And if its cold where something chic over your dress”

It was important for the casting that I wear a dress. The email had reference pictures as so the type of dress they required me to wear.

The fact that the audition was on a public holiday didn’t faze me either as there is no ‘usual’ in this industry, and no days are held sacred. The morning of the big audition my boyfriend went off to Midrand to work on a group assignment for his studies. He messaged me about mid-morning saying that he would finish early enough to go to the audition with me. Then about half an hour before I planned on leaving he let me know that one of their group members was still working on his half the project, and he had to wait in order to put everything together. He would meet me after the audition, and we would go to watch a film. So I headed off on my own and followed the GPS to the location for my audition.

A half an hour drive to a venue I didn’t know, and somewhat nervous due to how serious my agent had been about the audition I arrived in the correct street, and a large poster with an arrow claiming “Dove Audition Parking” made it easier for me to find the street entrance. I noticed when I entered the parking area that the place was rather lush, and different to the usual stark audition venues, but I was more concerned with the job at hand, and being on time…

“Are you here for the Dove audition?”

I said I was there for my 3 pm call

“You’re really late. They started at 2”

I had double checked the time of the email that morning, so I knew I hadn’t gotten it wrong.

“I’m really sorry, but the email I received from my agent said very specifically that I have to be here at 3”

“Well then in that case your agent is going to be in trouble. But don’t worry about it. Most of the other girls have left already, but the casting director is still here and they haven’t packed up yet so you’re still ok”

My stomach dropped a little.

“I’ll smooth things over with the director. Just follow me I’ll take you to them”

I didn’t notice much other than the stairs we were climbing as we were walking. I was double checking the email in my mind, and reassuring myself that this wasn’t my fault. A mistake had been made, but sure it would all be ok.

“Are you still alright with the stairs? Are your shoes ok? I have no idea why they decided to shoot right at the top of the property”

“Thankfully I’m not wearing heels.”

I suddenly realised that we had climbed a rather large number of steps, and then the path way even out as he directed me to walk in front of him. I think I noticed the rose petals at my feet before I saw my boyfriend looking at me. My first thought was “I’m meeting him afterwards, why is he already here” followed by “How is he up here before I am”

I then really noticed the path of petals lined by flowers, before realizing that my guide, Ken, had quietly disappeared. I looked up again and saw my boyfriend’s face. And then only did it dawn on me…

When he repeated his words later to me that evening I then started remembering what he had said. Although I couldn't remember what he said in that moment, I do know that everything he said to me in that moment touched me as he bent down on one knee and asked me to marry him in a beautiful garden overlooking Johannesburg. I was fighting back tears of elation and joy and surprise and love as I heard the emotion in his voice, before replying that I would.

I didn’t even notice the ring that he put on my shaking hand because in that moment, it wasn’t important.

Once he was back on his feet, and untangled from my arms he asked

“What do you think about the ring?” 

“I haven’t really looked at yet…”

And only then did he draw my attention to the go pro camera behind him, my cousin climbing out of the bushes to my right and his brother, getting out of the trees on my left both with cameras in tow. The four of us overlooked the beautiful Shepstone Gardens as we drank champagne and my cousin took amazing photos.

Afterward, as the four of us sat and I was informed of all that had happened while I assumed everyone was working. I was then also informed how my agent had grilled my, now fiancé, to make sure that he was who he said he was, and not someone trying to kill/kidnap me. He had emailed him the numbers for human resources at his work, sent invoices for my ring and the booking of Shepstone Gardens. And then I remembered my agent calling me and claiming that he needed to update my contract with next of kin details. He needed a family member and non-family member. So when I gave him my boyfriend’s details he was satisfied that he was indeed who he said he was!

I phoned my parents to tell them the news and my mom asked:

“Did you get the part?”

Secretary - 'Pretty Girl'

I can happily say I’ve been a busy girl this year. From the beginning of the year I’ve been doing a minimum of two auditions per week. So when I suddenly had two weeks without an email or beep on my cell from my agent I started to get worried. But having a three chapter deadline I didn’t have that much time to fret about my diminishing audition rate. Then out of the blue on the Monday of my Friday deadline I received an email, after two weeks of silence, informing me about an audition. The audition, scheduled for Wednesday, wasn’t something I wanted to do, even though I was getting desperate. My resolve held though, and a little while later I received another email, informing me about what I call a ‘pretty girl’ audition.  These are generally the briefs where you just pitch up looking your best, and then find yourself in tow with a host of models all already taller than myself, with incredibly tight jeans, high heels (as if they needed them), extensions on their lashes and in their hear and of late, the mandatory crop top. They all seem to know each other and call each other variations of ‘doll’ or ‘babe’ and everyone else they call ‘sweetie’. I go none the less because as I’ve mentioned before, you just never know what the director wants.

For this specific ‘pretty girl’ audition I had to dress like I was going to a smart nightclub. The Tuesday before my Wednesday audition I received a third notification for an audition the next day. This audition was for a blonde secretary. The audition brief shows in a women in muted colours. However, according to the audition brief I received only the male characters needed to audition, and the female characters would be selected from their photos. I informed my agent that he could happily send my photo, but from what I read I didn’t have to go in. I had received the brief late in the afternoon so I didn’t think that much of it after I replied.

As per usual when I have an audition in Johannesburg I left early in the morning with my boyfriend for the hour commute. And as per usual, my audition outfit and makeup were in a bag while I worked on my studies on an empty desk in his office in a pair of jeans and grey shirt. Luckily colours that work well for camera. As my agent called me at 9:30 to confirm that he had emailed the casting director and that the audition brief wasn’t accurate. The casting director wanted to see me for the secretary audition. I decided that what I happened to be wearing had to be good enough. I did my makeup and charged off to get to the audition as close to 10:00 as possible. I then charged off to the ‘pretty girl’ audition. Due to the lack of bathrooms at audition venue 1, I thankfully knew that there was a bathroom and mirror at audition venue 2. I drove there, filled in my form, got my number and headed for the bathroom. I slipped into my short dress, darkened my eye makeup and slapped on some red lipstick. And for once, pulled on a pair of heels. I was ready for my ‘pretty girl’ audition.

I think the security guard at my boyfriend’s work was most surprised when I returned after my transformation. So after two weeks of silence I had three audition briefs for one day.

“When you see the big rock on your left, turn left”

“Never say I don’t take you to interesting places”

has become a joke between my boyfriend and myself as we’ve ended up in weird places for my auditions, shoots and the occasional festival opening. This time I was reading the directions for a film casting I attended the past week. Which included driving on dirt roads:

“When you see the big rock on your left, turn left”

I couldn’t help laughing

“Now I know I’ve hit the big time”

And so it was that at the big rock, I turned left to my audition venue. As prepped as I could be for a role whose description encompassed a name and “A young Afrikaans woman” So I wore my go-to audition dress and a pair of heels. For the first time this year I actually wore heels to an audition (with my flip flops in my handbag). I met the director and his assistant who promptly looked at me and said:

“How tall are you really?”

as my usually short frame towered over him in my heels.

“Well, I’m a lot more comfortable without them”

“In that case, lets do the whole audition without them”

I was relieved. And we continued with the first scene they wanted me to act out. I was given more character information, a frame of mind and context and we shot the first scene. I did notice when I walked into the audition room that there was no cameras or lighting equipment, as I’m used to for auditions. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I was told we would be shooting, and was quite frankly surprised when I realised I was to be filmed on an iPad. Well, there’s a first for everything I suppose.

And then we moved to the second scene. The director and his assistant looked at me seriously:

“For this scene we want tears. Real tears. When was the last time you cried?”

It had been a while:

“So things are going well for you” the director said jovially.

And I had less than five minutes to get myself into the appropriate frame of mind, and I’m not someone who cries easily. It’s something I’ve spent hours talking about with fellow actor-friends. The pros and cons and when is it self-indulgent to cry on stage, and how to really do it. And with not much time I thought about a vivid dream that had upset me and just let go. And although there was a lot of base on my tissue there were also tears on my cheeks. It seems that although I was asked for it, the director and his assistant hadn't expected it:

“Real tears. I’m impressed”

I was surprised.

Call Backs with Major Monologues

This year, so far, has been really slow for me. And after signing with a new agent I’ve been desperate to prove my worth. To prove that signing me was a good thing to do. And although I’ve been trying to stay positive, and my family has been very supportive it has been tough. Last Monday I had the pleasure of auditioning for a theatre piece which will be touring through South Africa and Africa. The show is an actress’s dream. It’s also about women, so as a feminist I really wanted in.

After my initial monologue I was asked to wait outside. When the casting and musical directors walked out I was handed sheet music. And two monologues. One monologue consisting of four pages, and one consisting of five pages. I had a call back. Something to be proud of. Something to show that I was worth keeping on the books. And to prove to myself more than anything that I’m still on the right track.

I was then told what the casting director wanted to see from me in the monologues. The type of energy, the feeling, the beats. I was a little older than the characters, and I had to play. I had to move away from some directions. I had to move toward others. I was bombarded with information. And then told that if I could learn the whole monologues it would be best. But if I couldn’t manage they would understand. They would be seeing me later that week.

I prepped my nine pages of dialogue as well as I could. I knew my song. I was as prepared as I could be when I arrived an hour early for my call back. As was the other 9 girls who arrived for call backs that day. And I assumed there would be about 9 more girls the next day. And we all wanted a slot in the cast of 6. Before we started the casting director spoke to us as a group:

“The reason that you ladies are all here today is because we can see you in the show. Now its just a question of finding the ladies who are the right fit for the show.”

The energy was amazing. A mix of ladies auditioning for the first time and those of us with a little experience. For the first time at an audition that I attended as we all waited for our turn to do our monologues the whole groups sat together and chatted while we waited.

And waited. 

The director for the play is New York based, so the round of call backs had to be recorded so that she can peruse them at her leisure in America. We were also miked for this. Which, as usual, involves some poor guy apologising profusely as he sticks a microphone up your shirt and a mike pack down your pants. It also meant I had to be very wearing of the movement of my clothes I had so meticulously plotted into my monologues. I was the second lady to be recorded so there were still some teething problems. I started my monologue, I was focused, I was on track, and then something toppled off the tripod taking the camera with it. I was commended on the right energy I was giving as I had been told to do. I was also told to relax and enjoy it. I started again. I reached about 2 paragraphs further than the first take when the school’s intercom blared the rehearsal space where we were auditioning. I wasn’t told to cut, so I carried on with the monologue through what we were all hoping to be a quick announcement. But no luck. After literally a minute of me keeping my pose between a monotone voice reading the changed rehearsal space for drumming practice and those pre-teens who had to go to the office I was eventually told I could stop by the casting director. She stared at the tiny intercom box in astonishment as the stream of announcements continued. When it eventually stopped she and the musical director just packed up laughing. This time was congratulated on keeping my focus for so long. And we started again. And thankfully the third time was a charm!

I had gathered that very few of the other girls had prepped the entire monologue, so I was thanked profusely for being very well prepared. I then returned outside to wait to do my second monologue. With a Russian accent. For some reason I was more nervous on my return to the audition space than before. I took a deep breath, was apologised to by the sound guy, and started monologue number two. As I was the first to finish without needing to leave early I asked if they were still going to need to see me. I was thanked again for being prepared. I was thanked for auditioning and I was thanked for coming. I was told it would be a long time before they would know about the casting as it had to be reviewed in America. And then a sweet sweet payoff from the casting director, who I learned afterward is an up-and-coming musical theatre director in South Africa:

“By the way Chandré, I love your look. It was really lovely to meet you”

YES!

Bare it all!

As often happens, I received a casting the night before it took place. Which perhaps is why actors tend be erratic. This casting was different due to a little add on in the email: in the advert the actresses would be appearing in their underwear, and therefore need to be comfortable with this. But there was no notice in casting brief about specific wardrobe. Usually if you need to wear a bikini for a casting you get warned beforehand. Although no amount of sit-ups in one evening is going to make you look better, it’s still worth a try. But then you also know to take a bikini along. I think this little note stuck somewhere in my mind, so when I got dressed for my audition that morning I made sure that my underwear wasn’t see-through at the very least. At the very least.

An hour’s drive became extended somewhat due to the robots being out as we had electricity blackouts in South Africa this past week. And although I arrived early for the casting so many hopefuls had arrived for another role that our casting ended up starting about 45 minutes late. It also gave all us ladies time to obsess as we were told we could change into our bikinis so long. Almost none of the girls had bikinis with them. None of us had been warned by our agents. Those who lived close by could drive quickly and fetch theirs, but others, such as myself, were left with the only other option. Strip. 

As I talked with three other ladies before the audition I was at least assured that they didn’t have bikinis with them, and would also be stripping for the camera. I couldn't help myself:

"Oh well, its my job"

I joked while I mimed pulling off my blue dress.

As we walked in for the casting we were given our options:

“Ladies, If you don’t have a bikini here that’s fine. Take off as much as you feel comfortable with. If you want to leave your pants on or anything its fine. But remember, for the advert you will be shooting in your underwear. Not a bikini. Just keep that in mind”

In the batch of women I did my casting with only about three ladies had bikinis on. The rest of us stripped down to our underwear and two girls just took their shirts off. I had a maroon bra on, and lime green polka-dotted bottoms on. If nothing else the clashing colours would make me stand out. And I was surprisingly fine with it. We were all in the same boat, and joking about what we were wearing beneath. And quite interesting it was probably the most relaxed casting I’ve ever done.

Fortunately I was finished with my casting before the electricity went out. But I heard some of the other girls had to do their casting in the lobby of the building as they were was no electricity to turn on the lights for the battery powered camera. I suppose there is a first time for everything.

"Slightly Over-Weight"

I'm not skinny. I'm not fat either. I am fit, and I have muscles. In fact, I'm on my Weigh-Less goal weight. But I have a goal weight, and I dieted down to get there. And I'm rather sensitive about that.

Body image is never an easy thing for any woman and most of us would rather be called an entire slew of other derogatory terms before being called fat. It's not right, but we are products of our society.And as an actress and a dancer weight has always been a tough topic. No matter how thick skinned I've grown a comment about my weight, or being the 'biggest' girl at a dance audition is enough to send me into renewed efforts at the gym, or to double my daily green tea intake.

And so on Sunday evening I received an email from my agent who, bless his heart has never commented on my weight, to audition for a film. I read the character description he suggested for me and agreed entirely. It's the type of character I want to play and that my agent and I had discussed, she's going to be fun to do, she's comedic.... And then the moment of the character description that changed it all:

"Slightly over-weight"

A small part of me died in that moment.

Now I know (or at the very least hold on to blind hope) that those three words are not why my agent suggested that particular character. She is everything we had discussed that I wanted to do and playing her would be so much fun. Except for those three words.

The morning before the audition a friend made me laugh:

“Well if that’s the case you’re going to get to eat a lot of doughnuts before you start shooting.”

I felt a lot better after that. And in my frumpy skirt, and the shirt I had that resembled a blouse the closest (the characters wardrobe of choice) I went off to my ‘fat-girl’ audition.

After the audition I happened to walk out with the casting agent, who informed me that most of the actresses coming in for the part were all commenting about the ‘slightly over-weight’ clause. He responded that perhaps that would settle for ‘a little chubby’. It really wasn’t about the weight.

“I think it’s more the type of energy for the character, more than the look” I ventured.

“Exactly”

And as the casting agent and the women feeding me lines had both laughed during my audition I’m praying for the best.

Starting with a bust and a BANG!

My mom had asked me earlier the day before I received the email: Did I know if I was still going to have my morning a week lecturing job this year. I was expecting the college where I teach drama and film not to reopen its doors again this year after the tumultuous year we had last year. An hour after my mother posed the question I received the electronic reply. The college was closed, and my safety net job, that literally kept petrol in my car was gone. During the quiet weeks the last two years the lecturing job not only sustained me financially, but also gave me something to focus on other than my Masters. I found out that I would by jumping without my safety net this year a few days before leaving for Europe. But as I was already receiving emails for auditions when I returned to South Africa from my fantastic new agent while I was in Milan I was somewhat quelled in my fears for the new year.

I landed in warm Johannesburg on a Monday afternoon with full on Bronchitis, and on Tuesday morning I left for my first casting for the year. On Wednesday morning propped up with couch syrup, antibiotics and pain medication I had another casting for my old favourite, Coke-a-Cola. 

After waiting for a few minutes the casting director I had handed my form into called me from the wall where I was standing and waiting.

“Come wait over here”

Two other blonde girls were already waiting there, and shortly afterwards 2 guys joined us. One of the guys was an acquaintance, and the two of us pondered our fate as we waited in our segregated area. We weren’t told why, but I assumed we fulfilled something that they were looking for specifically. We were then all thrown into the next batch of 20 hopefuls to audition for what is always too few slots. The‘select 5’ did the group audition first while the others watched, and then we waited while the same scene was acted out three more times. After everyone had had their chance the numbers were called out for those that had made it through the first round. I sighed relief as my 306 was called. All of our little group of five had made it through the first round. And we then acted out the same scene, this time in smaller groups.

And, as always, the wait to hear if I have work sets in. But this year I go for auditions while I’m waiting and that makes all the difference. And now that I don't have that job in the background I have no choice but to commit entirely to the jump.