Mastering It!

If all goes well I will hand in my dissertation before the end of this month. My dissertation has been by the proof reader and will be returned to me shortly and in the next day or two I should have finished my article. It's been 3 and half years of writing, re-writing, frustration, slide-shows, presentations, swearing, blood, sweat and tears. And there were times when I loved it. When I got home from a meeting with my study supervisor and it felt like all the work was coming together.

This year has been particularly interesting with regards to trying to work on my Masters. 10 days before my wedding I handed in the first full draft of my dissertation. I had a moment of glory before I fell completely into final preparations before my wedding. Coming back from honeymoon we had the basics in place in our house. The kettle and the couches and the beds were all there. But there were boxes of things, and bits and pieces of wedding leftovers everywhere which required attention.

So somewhere between auditioning, trying to put our new life together in a new city and getting a handle on eating healthy, meal preparations, and being a new wife finding the time for my Masters has been challenging. 

And as I stand at the precipice of finishing, I got asked something very interesting this weekend.

On Saturday I did a casting, and after waiting for three hours I did my ID in front of the camera and for the first time ever I was asked:

“Are you studying?”

“I’m finishing my Masters”

“In what?”

“Gender in South African cinema”

“Wow. That’s fantastic.”

The jet-set life is going to kill me.

When you work freelance plans are never easily made. Personal plans and travel plans are always placed on hold. Because you always hope that something will come up. A casting, an audition or maybe just, something that pays. Inevitably what happens is after eventually deciding to make a plan the night before you get an email from your agent and you end up cancelling on the last minute. Its an actors way of life.

And so after a meeting with a corporate to see if I would work for their show (who I cannot and will not name in the hope of being hired again) I got a phone call from my husband, quite literally as I got into my car to go back home:

“I have to go to Belgium for work. And you can come with”

Insert Friday evening date that my husband wanted us to leave

“And that way we get an extra weekend in Europe.”

Unfortunately the Friday my husband wanted to leave was the weekend of performances for the corporate I had just met with. Of course.

After one meet to see if I fitted the requirements all I knew was the rehearsal and performance dates, and that I fitted the requirements. And if of course, the “we’ll let you know” thing. I decided honesty was the best policy. And after settling on a minimal amount that I would do the contract for I phoned my contact at the company:

“I am not sure if you are planning on using me, but I just found out that I have an opportunity to go to Europe. So if you could let me know if you in fact want to use me, and what the contract details are so that I can decide about the opportunity I would really appreciate it. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone, and would like to let all parties know as soon as possible”

And then I waited. That evening I received a phone call. They wanted to use me and they were offering double the minimum we were going for. The decision was made, and I would be doing the contract. That left the trip to Europe. My husband wiggled the dates, and we would be flying on separate flights. As his work would be paying for his flight, and we would be paying for mine I was on a much cheaper flight, and it was also later in the evening. Which we desperately needed as I would be working until about 4 on Sunday afternoon.

Which meant that on Sunday, after performing and dancing the whole day I would basically be going to straight to the airport stopping only for a quick shower. My packed luggage and carry-on bag was standing ready by the front door when I left my house that morning already.

After performing I stopped at home where my brother was already waiting for me as my husband was already checking in for his flight. I showered in record time (for my sake as much as the people who would be stuck sitting next to me) and we were out the door. My special travel bag with my flight details, earphones and passport in hand. 3 hours before my flight I confidently walked towards the gate to board my flight. As the airport attendant for British Airways paged through my passport she asked for my other passport. I didn’t understand why.

“When you fly through Heathrow you require a UK transit Visa”

“No, there’s my Schengen Visa. I just have a layover in Heathrow, I’m not even leaving Terminal 5.”

“You still need a UK Transit Visa because you are South African”

As you can imagine, I went into full panic mode. And phoned my husband. My options were to change my flight, or to go and get the visa on Monday morning. Like a spreading virus my brother was on the phone with contacts of his to find out about the visa, as were my husbands parents.

A manager from the ground staff of British Airways came and spoke to me.

“Have you been to Europe before?”

“Yes, but my old Schengen Visa is in my passport that expired.”

“Which country did you fly through?”

“Dubai”

“Have you been to America before?”

I had. My American Visa, issued 9 years before was still valid for a year. Although it was in my expired passport, back at home. Apparently if I had a US Visa I didn't need a UK Transit Visa.

“How far away do you live?”

We had enough time to go back to my house and get my old passport and be back in time for my flight. So we did.

My brother, like an ocean of calm, drove me back and forth as I fielded phone calls. My husband phoned and googled to make 100% sure that my US Visa would be sufficient. And in all the chaos no one we spoke to had ever heard about the UK Transit Visa. It wasn’t even mentioned on the British Airways website. But apparently it was required. As I run into my flat the electricity was off due to load shedding, but I knew exactly where my old passport was.

As I returned with my old passport containing my US Visa my husband was already boarding his flight. As I checked in my luggage I called to tell him I was making my flight. His aeroplane was already moving onto the runway. A minute later and he would have had to turn off his phone. We were both on our way to Belgium.

One of our only sunny days in Europe, exploring the city of Brugges after my husband's meeting.

A week into our trip my husband and I were sitting on the edge of the Seine drinking a bottle of wine after walking around Paris all day. As I took of my shoes I could still see the blisters all over my feet from performing the weekend before.

Low budget life, laughter and load shedding.

Getting ready for my close-up.

A few weeks ago I got the amazing opportunity to play the lead character in a short film made for the My Rode Reel short film competition. My last, rather brief post, was about this film. You know its going to be something special when the script for a 3 minute short film has you doing an ugly cry in a restaurant while you’re reading it.

My Rode Reel is a 3 minute short film competition where the creators of the short film use rode microphones in order to make their short films, and the general public vote for their favourites. A friend of mine who I’ve worked with before, Henco J, called and asked if I would be available to work with is team. Then, as a newlywed, he asked where he would be able to buy a cheap wedding veil:

“I know of a few places. But if you want a real veil that will look good on film they tend to be expensive. Whose character will be using it, and what for?”

“We’re shooting a wedding scene, so your character will be wearing it”

“Well if it won’t get hurt we can use my veil from my wedding”

“Are you sure? And then we’ll hire you a wedding dress”

“Well, I have a wedding dress hanging in my cupboard that has only been used once, and I’m not planning on using it again any time soon”

“We really don’t need to use your dress”

“At least then I get to wear it again!”

A few days later I received my script, and the long list of costume changes I would need for the shoot. About 6 changes excluding my wedding dress. So bright and early on the morning of the shoot I packed what felt like half of my cupboard into my car and headed off to our first location.

I had learned in the past that suitcases don't work as well as barrels or tubs

At our first location I changed into the first costume chosen by the director and crew and in a small dimly lit bathroom. I started doing my makeup there, but realised I was relying on muscle memory more than what I was actually seeing, so I sent in the sunlight with a small compact to repair the damage and finish my makeup. 2 scenes later our art director helped me change into my wedding dress in a passage.

Having a candle lit supper thanks to load shedding, and a break
from filming.

There’s something amazingly freeing about low-budget filmmaking. There’s still a lot of stress on all sides, but you get to work with really amazing people because they all want to be there. Everyone working on the project is there because the film is something we all want to make. It's not just a job. If we weren’t telling each other about the ridiculous things we had done on set, or situations we had been in while waiting around on set we were creating new jokes. Especially as load shedding hit us and our scheduled 8pm wrap became a 11pm wrap.

And I got to do things I had never done before. I sat in a car with a camera fixed to the window via some suction mechanism and pointing at me as we drove. There was also another camera perched on a bakkie in front of our car as myself and the male lead Reynard Slabbert drove around a barely lit neighbourhood (thank you load shedding).

AND, we played with green-screen! I was challenged multiple times to keep a moment for a minute. Or to move in the exact same way I had before, hold my arm up in the same manner or redo something over and over and not change a muscle, angle or hair. All of which challenged me immensely!

And when I crawled into by bed at 1 in the morning I was tired, and greatly fulfilled. I do think, however, that our "making of" clip tells the story in a way I cannot:

Our Rode Reel: Disremember

As I start a new contract in quite literally an hour and a half my time is somewhat limited this morning. I will however be doing a post on all our behind the scenes antics later in this week.

But for now, here is the time I was part of's submission for the international My Rode Reel competition!

Thank you to everyone involved, and who deemed it wise to involve me! You will all be named and shamed in the next post!

Ah La Natural

As an actress, every two years actors need to get new headshots. It's one of those things. We got older, we change our hair, we change our routines (for better or worse) and we look different. I grew out my fringe, as well as the rest of my head of hair, and lost a few kilograms (gained them again and then lost them) in two years.  It was time for new headshots.

My cousin had shot my previous photographs. While studying photography she required a model to practice with, so I got play model for 2 hours one afternoon. We were having fun more than anything else and got some fantastic shots while we were doing it. I also learned a lot while we were shooting about posing and energy as it was the first time I was in a studio doing multiple photographs. I used the photos she gave me when trying to find an agent. Despite loving the old photographs it was time for new ones.

Photographs taken by my cousin Danielle Botha

The message from the photographer my agent uses to do our headshots said to keep my makeup natural. Something I would have done anyway as I want the photographs to show me as naturally as possible. Well, at least the best version of a natural me. I want to be able to be cast as a high-maintenance socialite and a clean faced scullery maid from the same set of photographs. When I walk through a door at a casting I want to look like my photograph. So I prepped for the session in the studio…

Once the hair was washed and conditioned, and all the places that needed to be shaved in the shower and plucked after the shower were shaved and plucked, I liberally sprayed heat protect in my hair. Then my mop was blow dried so that all my curls set properly. Otherwise half of my head looks great and the other half looks like I slept on it. Probably outside. Then the face started.

As a rule: no sunscreen or any products with zinc in them as they could make my face appear white in photos when photographed with a flash. Moisturizer, always in ample amounts, and then primer goes on to make sure that the foundation goes on smoothly. If I have a red pimple green base goes on the spot so as to camouflage the red and I end up looking like I’ve been marked to shoot a scene for special effects. Then the foundation goes on. The stuff that instantly builds confidence. I start with the shade that matches my skin. Then a shade lighter on my forehead, nose and cheekbones and shade darker beneath my cheekbones, side of my nose and temples in order to counter my face for the photographs and high light my cheekbones. Often lighting washes away one's bone structure so that your face appears flat in photographs so contouring helps to counteract that. Once the different smears of colour are all blended in to highlight my bone structure...OK, build my bone structure, the blush goes on. Just a little more cheekbone for me. Then my brow bones are highlighted, and the crease of my eye is shadowed. Close to the end I line my top line with liquid liner and put on a healthy coat of mascara which not only darkens my already black eyelashes, but thickens and extends them. Its natural, so that sets of strip and individual lashes remain at the bottom of my makeup box.

A clump!

Another brush is used to try and get rid of the blob of mascara on the end of a lash. When this proves futile I find a needle and use that to carefully separate the lashes which the waterproof mascara was attempting to weld together. The final touches include 8 hour cream for my lips and powder to set everything.

The curls need help. So I grab a curling tong and re-curl some of the hair around my face to shape it a little.

A foundation brush, blush brush, eye shadow brush, thin angle brush, mascara brush (needle) and powder brush, a blending sponge, 2 pallets for foundation and eyeshadow colour, waterproof liquid eyeliner, waterproof mascara, a hair dryer and curling iron and about an hour and a half later there I was.

Natural.

Lady natural at least. If I was a guy I would arrive at the photographer freshly showered, perhaps with a little face cream on and a freshly shaved face. Ok, a face shaved when a girlfriend complained a day or two ago. And the photographer would brush some powder on them so that they don’t shine in front of the camera and they would have a different shirt there which they would change right there.

Natural.

As I took my 6 changes of clothes home, base, mascara, powder and lip gloss required for changes and touch ups I was happy.

Photoshop will catch anything I missed.

Flying High - A Silent Film

Our director and producer Henco J, our cinematographer and co-producer Lize Jacobs and our Lighting man Nickie Jacobs.

A still from our short film.

Last year I got the amazing opportunity to spend a Saturday working with a group of friends shooting a short film for the 48 hour film festival. The genre we drew was 'Silent film' which presented a whole new set of challenges as none of us had done anything of the sort before. I got to play the part of the “seductress” in the almost film noir like short film.

I posted about it last year, but just to recap Flying High won ‘Best Directing’, ‘Best Score’ and ‘Best Choreography’. It was also nominated for for ‘Best Script’ and ‘Best Film’.

I wasn’t able to see the screening of the short film at the festival, and as our director didn’t release the film publicly, a fancy way for saying he didn’t put it up on youtube, I hadn’t seen it. Our director, Henco J, had entered the film into other short film competitions, so he had to wait before uploading the film.

Last week up uploaded it.

Flying High

We are so sorry to inform you…

I’m going to add to the wealth of information written about it. The boxing match that happened this weekend. But only in so far as this match invoked my own reflections.

I don’t follow boxing. I don’t care much for it. However there was so much hype around the match that one couldn't help getting a little involved. But the hype wasn't about the statistics of the game, or the betting odds but the people themselves. Mayweather with his faults and bravado and Pacquiao with his humility and belief. Upon hearing that Pacquiao had lost I said to my husband:

“I suppose the real test of Pacquiao’s faith will be in how he handles his loss”

After submitting my CV and headshot I was informed that I was not selected to audition for a corporate show. The reason could be almost anything. That I didn’t have the right look for the show, that I didn’t have the kind of experience they were looking for, or that I didn’t have the specific training they wanted. My agent is always upbeat an encouraging when they pass along news like this to me. In this email I got:

“Just keep swimming”

A sentiment I often hear from my parents, and which I'm always grateful for. Every time my mom sees a late night biography about an actor she’ll call me and tell me that they struggled too. That they were also told ‘no’. That they had to work really hard and face slamming doors before little by little they carved a path for themselves. So I’m carving a path for myself. It’s out of rock, but I’m doing it with every audition I go to. My faith will not be shaken, and I know that there is a purpose in everything I do.

This industry is about the downs as much as it is about the ups. Perhaps even more so as most of us have to face a lot more downs before we get a few of those ups. As long as the ups keeping making up for the downs I’ll be ok. When they don’t I might have to rethink my career. But its just a career. Being a performer is a big part of who I am. But its not everything I am. For now I can still handle the downs.

Our team post-warrior race on Saturday. Nothing makes you feel tough like doing tough things!

Starring A Call Back

It’s always good to start the week with a call back. It makes you feel like you have a foot in the door, and something you did last week is paying off this week. You’re starting at step two, and you’re not back at step one. Again. 

And so I drove off to my call back. Bright-eyed, bushy tailed and GPS free. For me that was almost a bigger achievement than call back itself.

We spent most of the three hour call back slot running lines for the scenes we would be performing. And as I sat under a tree, trying to hone the cockney accent we were later not required to do, and practicing three scenes that were later not seen, white stars started to jump across page.

And no, it wasn’t a hallucination. A friendly warning, and precursor to a migraine, the white stars blurring my vision to the point where I couldn’t read anymore is medically known as aura. Usually about half an hour after the aura a migraine which renders me helpless kicks in. Unless I medicate myself. I started digging through my handbag for my medication I usually carry with me. As my search yielded less and less in my small handbag I realised that I had used and not replaced my last dose of pills, known as a migraine cocktail. I usually only get a migraine once, at most twice a year, and as the last one had been two weeks before I still had a dose in my house I hadn't worried about replacing it too hastily. I walked to my car to see if by some miracle the cubby hole in my car would provide a solution. I did not. Although I did find a pair of sunglasses I thought I had lost, and thankfully a box of strong painkillers. A friend gave me muscle relaxants in case the pain killers didn’t work and I was back to my group to rehearse. Stars and all.

My usual cocktail to keep the migraines at bay.

Thankfully we waited so long for our turn to do our call back that the aura was gone by the time we walked into the space to start. And I was only left with shaky hands by the time I had to do my part. The roughly 15 pages of text we had to prepare was cut to about 4 in an attempt to get through all the actors auditioning for the various parts we were reading for.

About 10 minutes after we had entered the space for the call back, and three hours after we arrived, our band of actors left. And still able to see, and drive, I left the theatre, GPS free and managed to make my way home again.

From CD-Sing-A-Longs To Green Screens

It’s the nature of life that my only two auditions this past week were at the same time. At the very least, in the same time slot. So between 10 and 1 on Friday I had to make my way from an audition for a children’s theatre musical in Parktown to auditioning for a presenter at CNBC Africa in Sandton. It was quite the stretch. So I prepared the song that I was going to sing for the theatre audition, and what I was going to say for the on camera audition.

Being the modern girl that I am, and because we don’t own a CD player anymore, I practiced my song by plugging in my cellphone into our stereo and using the mp3 track stored on it. I was sure that I had the CD with the track on in my car from a previous audition.  At my planned time I hopped into my car, and just to be sure I grabbed the CD. It wasn’t the CD with my backtrack on it. And due to the recent move there was a very real chance that the required CD was still residing at what is now my brother’s flat. I ran back and grabbed all the CD’s in my reach which had backtracks on them. I found one with a track on that I knew well enough, and that the director I was auditioning for hadn’t heard me sing it before and climbed into the car. The half hour drive to the audition venue was my practice time. I arrived just before 10 and scurried into the theatre to audition. Another wide eyed blonde looked at me when I walked in at the allotted time:

“Are you from contractors too?” Contractors is another artist agency.

“No, I’m from Leads”

She explained that the agents were supposed to have let us know to come and audition at a different time. The original casting call had said we should be there at 10, but the theatre had replied to the agents giving us all individual time slots. The three of us had not received any further communication from our agents and had arrived at the original time. The director, knowing that it wasn’t our fault, and been gracious enough to see us anyway.

I walked in, as prepared as I could be all things considered, and performed my heart out. After the song the director asked while perusing my CV:

“You didn’t study musical theatre did you?”

“No”

“I see here that you studied drama. So did you take singing lessons?”

“Yes”

“You sound like you studied musical theatre”

Considering how nervous I had been walking in I was so thankful for the compliment! I was informed that I had a call back the next week and I was off to the next audition.

The GPS took me into the heart of Sandton, and through road works, until I reached the corporate building which houses the offices of CNBC Africa. I drove up to the boomed gate, and filled in the paper work. When I handed back the book the guard informed me of what I needed to do:

“Drive in, make a U-turn and come out of this gate, then enter the next boomed gate”

As I drove in and made the required U-turn I saw that a thin line of paving divided the parking lot into two sections. The section I was in and was required to leave, and the section I had to re-enter via the next boom gate. All because of the offices I would be visiting. Corporates.

As I filled in the second and third security books entering the building, and again as I entered the offices of CNBC I noticed at least three other names of girls who were auditioning despite not seeing anyone else.

I was hooked up, balanced for sound, and put into one of the fanciest green rooms I’ve ever seen. And although the man I was working with seemed to like me, and liked the fact that I write I heard that very familiar sentence:

“It all depends on what the client wants”