Clamped Wheels in Bikini Weather

Our seasons started to change this week. For the first time this year I needed a jacket when I left the house. I started wearing long pants and closed shoes. And as I snuggled in bed on cool Tuesday evening I received an email for a casting for a shampoo add. So as I left my flat with my shiny clean hair on Wednesday morning, jacket in tow, I did not expect that I was required to wear a bikini for the casting. Especially as nothing was mentioned in the casting.

As a South African, this is not swimsuit weather.

As I walked into the building I was the second to arrive. And as the model and I sat in silence waiting for our turn the casting director asked if we had our bikinis on….

“Its ok, we have some scarves here, and we can improvise”

I had been through a similar situation before and didn’t feel like a second round.

“I live about ten minutes drive away. I’ll quickly go fetch mine"

Thankfully I was there early enough for this to be an option. So I drove home, grabbed a bikini and drive back again. As I looked for a parking spot I noticed a hardware store across the street. I needed to buy a few nails and bits and pieces to secure cabling in our flat so I decided I would park there, audition, and buy what I needed upon my return. Bikini castings do not generally require any greatly skilled performance. They tend to be more about the bikini.

I walked into the building as if on cue as the 5 of us were called in to do the casting.

Myself and the first girl to arrive where bikini clad, and the others were making plans with the eclectic collection of scarves provided by the casting agent. And as we stood, bikini and otherwise clad, it felt as if the casting was never going to start. The casting director was not having a good day. In the space that I had been away a car had been stolen, so the casting director was trying to help, but not much can be done in such a situation. The memory card on the camera was full, and someone had not pitched up to help out with our casting. The casting director's day was getting worse. 

Distractions aside, we eventually did our bikini casting, and I ran into the hardware store to get what I needed. After a semi successful purchase I walked over to my car. Imagine my surprise when my wheel was clamped. Bag in hand I looked at my clamped wheel. Upon which the owner started yelling at me.

“This is private property. You can’t just stop here.”

The staff jumped in in an attempt to save me from some of the wrath by explaining to the owner that I had been in the store and had purchased items from them. He was not satiated.

“I saw you go off to the audition. Its R250 to unclamp your wheel”

“Yes. And I also needed items from your hardware store. So I went in to audition and then came to your store”

I wanted to add that perhaps if he was nicer to his customers I might not be the only person in the store. Instead I went with

“As I was a patron to the store, I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem” and as the parking belonged to shopping centre in which the store was situated. Although I could see semantics wasn’t going to win me any points.

The continued yelling just confirmed what I thought. The store assistants attempted to jump in and help again. Clearly there weren’t any other patrons in the store.

And in spite of all the yelling I held my ground relatively well, not showing that I was intimidated. The owner eventually relinquished and settled:

“If you put R50 in the charity box I’ll unclamp your wheel”

I didn’t think I can handle all that much more of the bullying, so I settled for a fifth for what he was originally hassling me for I left with my head held high.

As I drove back I thought to myself that if the poor girl whose car was stolen had stopped where I had stopped, literally across the street from where she had been, her wheel might have been clamped and her car wouldn’t have been stolen. Or if the owner wasn’t busy harassing patrons he might have noticed that a car was stolen right under his nose.  Or if I hadn't gone back to fetch my bikini it might have been mine.

Fitting The Parts

Post-audition biker-girl selfie!

My first week back home from honeymoon passed by quietly. Too quietly. As I busied myself with the laundry and trying to find the floor in our new home I soon realized that the housewife thing was not for me. Thankfully by my first weekend back home I had received emails for auditions and castings. I had something – aside from my dissertation and piles of housework – to do!

In the space of a week I auditioned for a nurse, a biker chick and a beer girl. The following week saw another three castings and auditions. Ranging from pretty dresses to jeans and leather boots to looking like I was so sick I was knocking on death’s door. At one of the auditions I arrived at a friend had seen me approaching:

“I saw that blonde hair walking in and I wondered if you were under it”. At this specific audition we saw the director in rounds of ten. You went in, did your lines with the director, and if he liked what he saw you waited. At the end of your round of ten those who were deemed worthy came in again and were recorded to be shown to the client.

I was number 11. I knew my lines, but in the scene there were 3 characters namely X, Y and Z and a therapist. I walked in, took my place and started as my line was the first line in the scene. The director read the next line of text which belonged to the therapist. I knew two more characters would speak before it was my line. The director looked at me expectantly. I looked at him blankly. 

“Do you know all the lines?”

“I know the lines for the female character.”

“I want you to know all the lines, and I’ll read the therapist. That way we can have a better back and forth”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”

As I walked out of the casting room and frantically looked for a script the director followed me out and announced that everybody needed to know all the lines for characters X,Y and Z. Not just one.

By the time that number 12 had auditioned I knew the lines. I was waiting by the door as number 12 left:

“Are you sure you know all the lines already” the director asked after spotting me at the door.

“Yes”

“Then let’s do it”

And it went smoothly. I was asked to stay to be recorded. I entered the audition room for the third time.

“Third time’s a charm!” I chirped as I walked in for my call back.

“Exactly like you did it last time”

As I finished the director looked at me seriously.

"I'm happy with what you did. Now it all depends on the client. If you look the way that they want you to look”

And it turns out that I didn’t look the right way. But its all part of what we do. And even though I didn’t get the part, its comforting to know that the director was happy with my work. And that I’m back in front of casting directors doing what I do.

And We Were Wed!

I know I have been quiet for a while, but hopefully my wedding will stand as a good excuse! I took on the part that I will be playing for the rest of my life. Although the thought of being a ‘wife’ still feels foreign to me, I get to be there for everything with my partner. And I know he will stand through all the different roles with me.

                    

On the last day of January I married my best friend. Despite a sunny summer morning afternoon clouds threatened our outdoor ceremony, but the weather held. We were married under oak trees in a garden surrounded by family and friends. A part of me thought I was going to be nervous walking down the aisle. A part of me thought I would feel like I was playing a role for a stage play or a film. But none of those things happened. As I walked barefoot through the garden towards my almost-husband I was beaming. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

My Mom kept on saying while we were planning the wedding that it was like another production. As I have directed a few it would be no different than putting on a stage show so there was no need to be nervous. But it didn’t feel like that at all.

I was all smiles and laughter.

Now I’m tanned, back from honeymoon and head I’ve been thrown head first into auditions!

48 Hour Film Project Winners!

I want to use this platform to say CONGRATULATIONS to our amazing team for the 48 Hour Film Project!

Our film FLYING HIGH and our team won:

Audio Network (The best use of audio network music)

Best Score

Best Director - Henco J

Runner up for Best Costume

Top 3 for
 Best Script
 Best Use of Character

And over all the Top 4 for Best Film.

Thank you to everyone in the team for all the fun and hard work!

From left to Right:
Nadia Van Den Heever (our editor), Lize Jacobs (Cinematorgraphy), Henco J (Director and writer) and Mathilda Jnr Van Eyssen (Co-Writer and over all assistant)

Pretty up the girl!

I never get to play the “Pretty Girl” role. At my first professional casting the role I was auditioning for was that of the “Pretty Girl”. When I walked in the casting director asked which role I was auditioning for:

“The pretty girl”

“Oh. Ok. I’m not… I’m not saying that you’re not a pretty girl”

I just laughed. She was a lot more awkward than I was. And I did get the call back, although not for the pretty girl role. For another role entirely. Even at University I was always playing the odd roles, the character roles, or the weird ones. Until our second 48 hour film project...

I had done a job with Lize earlier this year. I asked if our team from last year would be taking part in the 48 hour film project again this year.

“I’ve been so busy this last while. We decided we are not taking part this year”

That was until an apparently alcohol infused last minute decision for our team to take part again. Henco J, as he is known professionally sent me an SMS in the week to hear if I would be available to act for them again. Henco won the Jameson First Shot  Short Film Competition earlier this year, and I was excited to work with my friend again. And on Friday evening I got the call:

“So we’re not sure about the details yet. But we will be shooting in a bar. Bring a few costume options for a night out in a classy bar, and bring a few frumpy dresses. I’m not sure about your character yet”

So with freshly washed hair, my whole professional makeup kit, a set of curling tongs, straight irons and half of up cupboard on hangers I was off to our location. Last year as I arrived on location for the 48 Hour Film Project I only knew Henco from doing our masters together, but no one else. This year I felt confident because now I knew the team. And as the rest of the team and my co-actors arrived almost all of them were from Tuks. It was almost like a mini reunion.

As we all had our morning teas and coffees Henco handed out our scripts:

“Chandré, in the script we decided we’re just going to refer to you as ‘Pretty Girl’”

“That’s more than fine with me”

I gave my mom the usual blow-by-blow after the shoot:

“I’m so glad! You’ve always wanted to play the pretty girl! How was it?”

“Honestly? For me it was boring.”

And the truth is, playing the odd, crazy characters are a lot more fun.

Henco J, our director, and Sylvia Lume who was our one-woman art department.

Henco J and his sister Lize Jacobs setting up the shot.

Doing it "MiWay"...for the advert at least.

The Visage Family for the MiWay advert shoot. And I see now we all have sort of the same nose.

It doesn’t happen often. But sometimes after an audition I get a feeling. A feeling that something just went the way it was supposed to go. Usually it’s because the casting director laughed at the right place. Or the way they say thank you after the audition. But a few times I’ve gotten that feeling. A month ago was no exception. Especially as the casting brief asked for an Afrikaans girl, specifically. Very specifically. My mom also had this feeling. As did my fiancé. And when I got the call for the call back none of us were surprised.

After the call back though, I did keep my expectations under control. We looked different, but we were both trained well. It all came down to what the director wanted. And the director wanted me.

My fiancé was not surprised when I got the part. Although it is his job to believe in me unwaveringly, especially on the days when I don’t believe in myself all that much.

Two days after my call back I was on set. I was excited to be working with comedian Mpho “Popps” Modikoane and South African actress Marga van Rooy. There was also a familiar face on set. I had worked with Altus Theart two years before while shooting a Coke advert for Super Bowl. During lunch he too asked a question I seem to be answering almost daily: 

"So how's the wedding planning going?"

"We're doing it piece by piece, but I feel like it's all under control. I'm not going to let it stress me out"

"Do you have your dress yet?"

"No"

"How long before your wedding?"

"Three months"

Laugter

"Rian! She thinks her wedding planning is going well but she doesn't have a dress yet"

More laughter. My on-screen big brothers were starting to feel like my real big brothers. Especially as they had decided earlier that I was definitely the milkman's child as Tannie Marga and both of them have blue eyes and I have brown eyes. 

Shooting my point of view

Tannie Marga, as she introduced herself to me, is a well-known face in South African stage and screen.

Tannie Marge was a fantastic source of inspiration. She asked me about my career and my agent:

“I wasn’t one of the favourites when studying. I wasn’t deemed good enough by my lecturers to audition for agents while I was studying, so I had to do it alone.”

She looked at me seriously:

“I think the most important thing to make it in this industry is temperament. Neither I, nor Sandra Prinsloo or Katinka Heyns were of Anna’s favourites”

Marga had also studied at the University of Pretoria, which meant that she knew I knew who Anna Neethlig Pohl was, as Anna was the first head of the drama department there. And the women she mentioned were all critically acclaimed actresses and directors. It felt fantastic to know that it wasn’t just me, others who "made it" had had a tough start too. She then told me about her first stage part:

“In my first professional role as an actress the director said to a colleague 'This child can't act' while I was standing right there. Just keep going, and create your own work.”

During my wardrobe call a joke started about “project cleavage”, as in outfit after outfit the director wanted to see more cleavage. Eventually they found a light pink shirt that the director was happy with. But it was very low cut. Which didn’t really bother me, as long as I had a bra on I didn’t really mind. While we were shooting the really sweet makeup artist went and spoke to the wardrobe lady with great concern:

“They’re showing a lot of cleavage”

“I know”

The wardrobe lady told me with a laugh while fixing me up. And when I did eventually see the advert and paused it I did see some bra.

Nice and Salty...

The premise for the advert is that Mpho is dating my character in order to get cheaper car insurance, hence the ‘instant family’. The family is sitting down for Sunday Lunch, and everyone wants the salt, except Mpho keeps it in his hand while he keeps talking. He then passes the salt on, and the rest of us can salt our food. So every time we did a take we threw salt all over the food on the plates in front of us. By the end of the day the food was crusted with salt. It also became tricky as we were required to eat some of the food after salting it. So we tried to salt only a specific veggie, and then eat another vegetable so as not to get a mouth full of salt every time.

“I feel like I’ve been a-salted” said Rian, one of my fellow actors after a particularly salty bite. And on the last take of the day the director left us rolling so that we were all forced into a salty bite of food while the entire crew giggled behind us before we heard “Cut”. 

It's a hard life on set

-Tda -Tda -Tda TA-DA!

I have worked really hard on speech and voice. Probably only comparable to the energy I had to put into science in my last year at school. And I still - tda - tda - tda - tda to make sure my slightly audible lisp doesn't hit the spotlight.

I can still remember the first time I was able to sound the rolling 'R' sound required for my father tongue as a child while sitting in my dad’s car (although both my parents are bilingual they had decided that my mother would speak only English to me and my father on Afrikaans). I can almost as vividly remember the first time I managed to sound an 'S'. What it boiled down to was years of speech therapy as a child, and 2 rounds of swallow therapy as a teenager. Yes, you read correctly. I could not swallow correctly, and had to learn by a speech therapist how to do so. My poor parents spent many an afternoon with little Chandwé (as I said my name) going -tda -tda -tda -tda -tde -tde -tde -tde etc etc etc etc.

Which is why I think my parents were so happy and thankful when I got accepted to study drama

"All that speech therapy as a child, and now you're going to talk for a living"

I even had radio as a subject for a semester while studying, and specialized in emotive voice in performance in my third year. And then while doing my Masters I did a three week intensive voice and body workshop with an amazing facilitator from America. Deborah Kinghorn lead myself (and a few notable other South African actors) through three weeks of Lessac Kinesensic training.

A year ago my would-be and now agent recommended I get my voice onto voicebank. One of the reasons why he signed me was because of how my voice sounded on the phone. But I found the process rather intimidating when I looked it up online. I had to write my own copy for a fictitious brand, make an appointment and go into their big expensive studios to record. Despite having all the right training the thought of going into a professional studio, and paying to have a pro record my own copy scared me a little. In the beginning of the year I attempted to open my account to do just that none the less. But when I had technical problems and it became difficult to create the account I allowed myself to opt out. Easily. I had other things to be done after all. I had my Masters work to do, I had to write a show, and a bundle of other excuses. About a month ago I tried again. And didn't allow myself to just opt out again. It was time to make it work. A few phone calls later, and help from the IT department, I managed to open my account. Three weeks ago I went in and recorded two voice clips in English

.

My agent had suggested a “sexy sell” voice clip, and I had figured a good corporate one would open up many doors. I did my research and wrote my radio copy for two fictitious brands. A lipstick for the sexy sell and an investment company for the corporate. When I got to the studio the friendly technician who put me completely at ease asked me what I was doing:

“A sexy sell, and a corporate”

“To be honest, our most searched categories are corporate, soft sell and conversational. Usually when copy writers write for a sexy voice they already have someone in mind when they write the copy. I suggest that you do a conversation bit instead”

“OK.”

Perhaps I looked a little like a cartoon deer in headlights. I trusted his opinion, he was the one with the experience, but I had practiced my copy in a specific way. And quite frankly I felt out of my depths sitting in the office with my large printed copy in front of my covered in pencil marks indicating how I would perform it.

“Tell you what, lets record you sexy sell, and then lets just try it in a conversational way”

“Lets do that” I was relieved for the option given to me.

I moved into the studio. Sitting behind the microphone with the headphones on my ears I started to relax. We fixed the levels so that I could hear myself, and so that I could hear the technician. It started to feel familiar. I space in which things were created, and less like an office. I did my corporate recording in a handful of takes.

I heard through my headphones while standing in the studio.

“Let’s try the second clip. Do it in the sexy way like you practiced”

After the first take I heard

“Uhm...Let’s try that sexier”

I did.

“Now do your copy in a lighter, conversational way”

One take.

“I really like that. Come out and listen”

It worked. A lot better than the first pseudo-sexy takes. Two weeks later my agent called with good news.

“You’ve been booked to record an advert for radio. After two weeks on voicebank. Well done”

Positive Payoffs - and God's Timing

Making the choice to work in the arts is a difficult one. Performing or otherwise. And every time I have doubted in the path that I'm following, something has happened to help me "keep the faith".

It all started the Monday evening before I pitched up for an extra taekwondo training, not realising that it was specifically extra sparring training. All the other girls knew this, and had decided not to come. So I was the only girl. I knew that I had an audition on Tuesday, so made sure that my face was protected. Which meant sacrificing an elbow and a foot in the process. Which meant that I headed off to my audition on Tuesday with a swollen foot, a bruised elbow, scratches on my decollate from being assaulted with a bouquet that weekend and a lovely burn on my upper arm from a hot restaurant pan. I was quite literally bruised and battered. But I was there, and enthusiastic. And apparently I was funny. As I finished my audition the casting director laughed and sent me on my way.

By Friday my bruises had darkened, but my burn was receding when my agents name flashed on my phone. Every time my previous agent’s name appeared in a similar manner my heart was in a flutter as he only ever called for a call back or the confirmation of a casting. Any other communication was designated to emails. But my present agent calls often to check in, hear about my availability, or if I’m interested in auditioning for a project. So when my phone rang on Friday morning I was non-plussed:

“You have a call back on Monday evening at 5:45. Can I confirm you?”

They most certainly could.

“Are you still available for the shoot dates on Wednesday and Thursday?”

I most certainly was.

On Monday my agent called again. I needed to be on standby for a wardrobe call the next day at 13:00 in Johannesburg.  Which meant that if and when I was confirmed for the role I needed to be in Johannesburg at 13:00 on Tuesday. I had an appointment with our wedding planner at 14:00 on Tuesday. I decided that I wasn’t going to cancel until I knew. If I didn’t get the part I would want to be busy on Tuesday afternoon, not thinking about the girl who got the part flitting around trying on different costume options for the role. I emailed the wedding planner and let her know that I would let her know once the producer had let me know if I had the role and had to be at wardrobe. She was ok with it.

After a glamorous lunch-time beach-look casting I prepared myself for my farm-girl call back. I arrived half an hour early for my call back, as per usual. And I waited. In the corner sat the girl I was up against for the part. I knew it was her as I had googled her CV when I saw the list for the call backs. We were both wearing the exact same blue colour, and her shirt and my dress had the same neckline. The other four roles were set, and it was just our role left to confirm. We sat on opposite sides of the room, each keeping to ourselves as the rest of the cast filtered into the waiting room. As we had to be a family it was important to see both of us with the rest of the cast before the director decided who they would use. About 45 minutes after our designated time the director and producer walked into the waiting room after having battled with peak hour Johannesburg traffic. The cast and the girl in blue in the corner were called into the audition space as she had been there before me.

“Good luck” I said with a smile. I had decided a long time ago that I would be one of those people that build up the competition. I don’t want to get a role by breaking someone else down. Either I’m good enough and the director wants me, or she’s better for the part and the director wants her. It’s nothing personal, simply the nature of our business. The door had barely closed when I was called in.

“We might as well brief both of you at the same time” the producer said to me as I walked into the space.

And literally three minutes later it was over.

The other girl in blue sat between the members of our screen family and did as we were instructed once. Then we swapped. And we were out.

Before we left we were asked to bring some articles of our own clothes in specific styles to set.

“The production team will make a decision about who the final cast is at 11 tomorrow”

We knew it was just about the two of us, but I was thankful that the producer wasn’t making it any more uncomfortable than what it needed to be.

“We will call you to confirm that roles at 11 tomorrow, and then you need to be at wardrobe at 1”

After waiting for more than an hour it was all over in three minutes. As my fiancé and I drove home I think he heard every iteration in existence of “I think it went well.” And the waiting game was afoot.

On Tuesday at 10:50 I messaged my fiancé:

“In ten minutes I’ll know”

“Are you expecting them to let you know punctually?”

“No”

By 11:30 the questions and reassurances were running through my head.

Positive: “I’m sure they’re just late and they will still let me know”

Negative: “But maybe they already decided and you just don’t have the part and they’re not going to let you know”

Positive: “You’re learned in the past that they say they’re going to let you know at a specific time. Then you convince yourself 2 hours after the said time that you don’t have the part. And then they call you”

I am in the lucky position that I have never been turned down for a film role after a call back, and only once for a theatre role.

Negative: “It’s too late. Its 12:00. You can’t make it to wardrobe by 13:00. If they were going to use you they would have let you know so that you could be by wardrobe at 13:00”

I emailed my agent to inform them that I would be late for the wardrobe call, if I was cast for the role.

My fiancé suggested that I pack my bag for wardrobe and go to Centurion. If I didn’t get the role I could make my meeting with the wedding planner in Centurion, and if I did get the role I would be closer to Johannesburg. I should have taken his advice in retrospect.

But in that moment I couldn’t. I couldn’t pack a bag full of costume options and then not get the role. It would crush me to have to pack all the clothes back into my cupboard without having gotten the role and done the work.

At 12:15 I couldn’t hold out anymore. As I picked up cell phone to call my agent, my phone started vibrating in my hand…

“Congratulations Chandré”

Fickle Focus

We all tend to do it. I have spells too, although I try to be upbeat. Sometimes we all focus on the negative and forget all the small, positive things that keep us going. And it shames me to say that I have been doing that for the past few months.

My career hasn’t been going as well as I would have wanted. I try to be pragmatic. I know it takes time, and the kind of career I want is a work in progress. I have a fantastic agent, and I’ve been going to a lot of auditions this year. I just haven’t been getting the parts. My "go-to" student production that I’ve been part of for the last three years has changed and become something new entirely, and I'm not part of it anymore. And although I’m technically still a student my Masters is coming to a close, and I know it’s time for me to move on. I can't be part of it anymore. I need to move on from doing university-driven work. I know this, but it doesn’t make it easier. And while I carry on trying to make a career out of what I do (I’ll focus on making a living later) a lot of the people around me are carrying on with their lives. It’s rarely said in as many words, but I’m often asked how much work I do, if I’m able to look after myself, etc.

And I’ve been focusing on that. I’ve disregarded the fact that I wrote the script and lyrics for a musical, and co-wrote the music. I’ve disregarded the fact that for the last two years I’ve been writing a dissertation, creating new research. Without any provocation, and in my own head, I’ve been worried about my agent not wanting to keep me on his books as I am nearing a year with them. 

I auditioned for an Afrikaans South African Soap Opera two weeks ago. I received feedback from my agent, which rarely happens, that I did not get a call back for the show, but I could be proud of my audition. He signed off the email with:

“Onthou: Aanhouer wen!!” which roughly translates to:

“Remember: Those who persevere win” with a double exclamation. Those three words meant the world to me.

And then I went to a wedding this weekend. I met with people I haven’t seen in more than ten years. People who were surprised about my chosen line of work since last seeing me as a 13 year old, but were sincere when saying that it was a brave move and that I should keep at it.

And then it hit me. Literally.

As all the ‘Single Ladies’ entered the grassy dance floor of the outdoor wedding I was standing in the back row. I looked up and said to my friend next to me:

"We're standing under the umbrealla. There is no way that the bouquet is going to reach us."

As I checked the placement of the large garden umbrella to validate my statement the bouquet decided to prove me wrong by hitting me on the collar bone, drawing blood in the process. A bunch of proteas and fynbos exceeded my expectations. I was thankful that a bridesmaid bouquet was thrown when given the actual bouquet which was much larger.

The Bridesmaid's bouquet which was thrown,
and the much larger Bride's bouquet. Which may
have left me concuss if it was thrown.

So I’m focusing on the positive again. I’m focusing on my amazing parents who are supporting me in my choices. Who, in my Mothers words are “in this” with me. I’m focusing on my amazing fiancé who always tells me never to do a job just for the money and who always asks if what I'm auditioning for is the kind of work that I want to do. I’m focusing on making my own career, and not letting auditions dictate how much work I do, and I’m not letting casting agents define my self-image. I know that God has a plan for me, and things will happen for me in His time. I also know that I can't expect things to happen if I'm not creating opportunities for myself.

I will write, and create, and find ways to make theatre, and dance shows and one day movies. I will practice hard, I will carry on improving my acting, and I will do my voice exercises. And maybe next year I’ll follow my mother and fiancé’s advice and throw away my bathroom scale, which both have been threatening to do. But I will not allow negative thoughts to creep in and over-shadow all the good I have in my life.

My Fiancé posted this photo on facebook the day after my friend's wedding. The caption
he used melted my heart, and reminded me once again how very blessed I am.