So this may be a more of a rant than a blog due to the subject matter but stick with me. I think most Irish creatives will understand the frustration of being unable to put themselves forward for a role / gig / design project etc. they know they would be perfect for. The issue isn’t that there is a lack of opportunities but that the opportunities are not open to all artists. Hazel and I first moved to Galway to pursue our acting careers. It’s a place infamous for culture, constantly producing new work, there must be so many exciting roles to audition for! We wrongly presumed. We quickly realised although there was a lot of exciting work being made in Galway, auditions were pretty much unheard of. This obstacle led to the creation of Eva’s Echo our company which always holds open castings and produces new work.
Of course this is not just a Galway issue, or even just an Irish issue. Although I do think we can be particularly guilty for for hiring ‘Mary’ over and over again because she’s great craic! Like most large issues I believe the issue stems from the top down. As an organisation who’s ethos centres on emerging artists and open castings we find funding applications particularly difficult. In most situations you must state the entire team in the application that will permit the production to take place at all. This requirement means most funded organisations don’t hold open castings as they will have had to state the names of each team member and instead of auditioning several months before rehearsals begin they print the names of their regular collaborators. The emphasis on the credentials and achievements of the creatives in applications also deters companies from working with emerging artists.
Often the lack of new blood in a professional company or even community drama group is not due to funding applications but rather comfort. Directors and facilitators can become comfortable with their group and become extremely close. Many can become concerned that a new creative would upset the dynamic of the group. To this I say comfort is the death of creativity, yes it is true that you will discover who you work best with throughout your career but you will never know what a new perspective can add to a production until you welcome a new voice.
Seeing as this is the Halloween edition of the Eva’s Echo Theatre blog, I wanted to share with you one of the scariest things that can happen to a theatremaker. It’s something that happens quite often and pretty casually. Said by people who think nothing of it, these three words can make an artist’s blood run cold and propel them into a spiralling existential crisis:
“So, what’s next?”
Those words strike more fear into my heart than any scary movie. Okay, not any scary movie, but a lot of them. When someone asks me that question, my blood runs cold and I desperately try to mumble something non-committal without crying or launching into a 45-minute rant about how life is unpredictable and none of us ever truly know what is next. Who needs jump scares and haunted houses when the deepest terrors live inside you, right?
Feeling the terror
Once those words hit your eardrums, the feeling of terror sets in. Your stomach drops, your mouth gets dry, and the tightening in your chest makes you wonder if you’ll be able to get the words out once you think of an answer. How can one little question carry so much weight?
A lot of it has to do with the unstable nature of the arts. Whether you’re working on a professional show or getting involved in a community production, odds are most people involved don’t have their next project lined up. Being asked what’s next just amplifies that feeling of uncertainty, of wondering if you should have something lined up by now. If you ask someone with a stable lifestyle what’s next, they’re probably content to tell you about their carefully-planned career trajectory and personal goals. Ask someone in theatre, however, and they start to question every life choice they’ve ever made.
Another reason it’s so unsettling is that every production requires a huge commitment. Time, money, and energy are all put in with the desperate hope of getting everything ready by opening night. A lot of people involved in theatre need a break between productions, usually using the time to catch up on areas of life that were neglected in favour of rehearsals and cast bonding. Back-to-back projects can lead to burnout if they aren’t managed carefully, and yet post-show depression can affect people who don’t know what to do with themselves once a show is over. There’s a fine line between overwhelming and under-stimulating yourself, and getting that balance right with every single project is a monumental task.
Playing a dangerous game
The real question is, who asks this kind of question? What sick, twisted monster cooks up the most terrifying question they can and preys upon innocent theatremakers? Who would have the nerve to ask “So, what’s next?” Odds are, it’s probably your mum or something.
Everyone asks this question when they meet a theatremaker, it’s as simple to them as asking a taxi driver how long they’ve got left on their shift when they climb into the car. From the question asker’s perspective, it’s little more than harmless small talk. They probably do care if you have anything coming up, but not nearly as much as you’d like to think. Little do they know the fear they’re instilling.
To be fair, theatre is a relatively niche interest. Unless you’re speaking to someone who takes part in theatre themselves, odds are this awful question is the only thing this person can think to say. They haven’t seen many (or any) plays, and unfortunately, they just weren’t able to make it to your last show! So sorry about that! They’ll definitely get to the next one!
Asking a theatremaker what they’re doing next seems like a safe bet to someone who doesn’t have a conversational alternative. It feels like nothing more than the theatrical equivalent of “So, any plans for the weekend?” The theatremaker who is now having a panic attack knows otherwise, but saying so would bring a very different tone to this casual chat.
Making things a little less scary
It’s all well and good to talk about crippling fear and small talk that makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you, but shouldn’t we be a little more proactive?
If someone asks you the dreaded question, there are a few ways you can handle it. Not all of them will achieve the same goal, but some might be more fun than others. You can:
Tell them the truth… honestly. You don’t have anything coming up, there are some potential opportunities but you don’t know for certain if they’ll pan out. Maybe this could happen, maybe this other thing could happen, you really don’t know. Oh God, why are you doing this with your life? Should you have done business in college like your mum said? Should you give up productions and learn to teach Speech and Drama? Oh my God, what if-
Tell them the truth… not so honestly. Blag your way through it confidently and rush away before further questions can be asked. You have a couple of things in the works, it’s difficult to tie down a concrete schedule when there are so many potential projects vying for your attention. Oh, it’s so difficult to even remember them all in this conversation! There’s just so much going on in your fabulous theatre life. In fact, you have to go right now- must have lunch some time!
Cry. Just cry. Don’t even try to answer the question, your tears will say so much more. It gets you out of that conversation and- bonus- no-one will ever ask you again.
Turn the question back on them. Someone says to you, “So, what’s next?” and you say “I’m glad you brought it up. I’ve been worried about you. Your life seems a little bit directionless right now and I just want to know that you have a plan. What are your goals? What are your dreams? What steps are you taking to make the life you crave a reality?” Keep going until you see the look of panic on their face that you usually feel in your own facial muscles during these situations. That’s when you know your work is done.
“So, what’s next?” is a seemingly innocuous question that holds far too much power for three little words. If you want a really good scare this Halloween, just strike up a conversation with someone you haven’t seen in a while and feel the suspense build as you wait for the dreaded question. Scarier than any horror film, I can tell you. If you can’t manage it this Halloween, don’t worry- it will definitely come up at Christmas too.
One of the things bound to happen in the creative world is rejection. You go to the audition/design proposal/directing pitch full of confidence and hope. You have put in the preparation, your research is done, you’re experienced and have amazing credentials. You get on with the director/producers and walk out of the room convinced you’ll be given good news. A week later you receive an email; ‘I regretfully inform you that you have not been casted/chosen for project name. Thank you for your application and we wish you all the best in the future.’ That’s when those thoughts creep in; ‘What’s wrong with me?’ ‘Am I not experienced/smart/professional enough?’ ‘Did I come across too quiet/uptight/casual/confident?’ ‘Why was I not picked?’ It is the wondering and lack of why that causes an artist to doubt their abilities, visions and passions. Sometimes it makes one think twice before applying for an open call in fear of being rejected. As with other aspects of life , rejection is something artists faces in any practice. I myself have an idea.
While in youth theatre, I knew acting and drama were my desired career pursuits. That was why I longed for the leading role in the end of the year pantomime. ‘Yes, this will give me the best start.’ ‘I will be discovered.’ ‘I’ll make a great impression once out in the real world.’ That however, wasn’t meant to be. At the time I believed; ‘I wasn’t working hard enough’, ‘I must be too fat’, ‘I’m not popular enough’, ‘Maybe I’m too serious’. It was only in my last year there I realised as my teacher said that ‘It could be done and casted many ways. Don’t think that you’re not good because you didn’t get picked.’ That is advice I thrived to carry with me into my third level and professional years.
During my third level years opportunities have come along through open castings and auditions. An experience I remember specifically related to both is when I was in second year. We were in our finals for our Physical Theatre Module when a well-known Irish director (I mean, well established) and his team came into us. They were looking for extras for a film they were due to shoot that summer. They spoke to us individually asking where we were from and our plans for the summer, they then took ‘headshots’ and left. I recall a classmate of mine saying ‘I don’t care, I don’t want to do it.’ … And they were casted! I thought; ‘I wanted to be in it!’, ‘Why didn’t they pick me!’, ‘I should’ve worn make up that day, ahhh!’ Another example is an audition I did for a play in Galway. I had a free semester in third year and thought no better way to utilise my time. I went to the audition and it went well. A week later, the director called me saying; ‘It was a very hard decision you were down to the last three but we went with someone else in the end. We were very impressed though.’ Then why wasn’t I picked!!!! Of course I didn’t say that, I took the rejection gracefully with the arts world being small I didn’t want to ruin my reputation so early on.
In my final year, I was in full focus and yearned for that First Class Honors. I gave up drink in the run up to our grad show, quit ‘social’ smoking, worked out most days (I was in the best shape of my life and still trying to get back to it!), stayed on top of my reading, made sure I was off book for rehearsals and did all the right things (as I thought). I was certain I was getting the 1:1, I was less than one percent away from it after the Christmas semester I have to get it, I will get it… I ended up with a Second Class Honors. The sense of rejection and devastation took over me so much I wondered why did I even bother. ‘What does that say about me as an artist?’ ‘Am I not good enough?’ ‘What was the fault or faults in my work?’ Out of all the rejections to date, this was the one that I took the hardest and almost quit theatre completely. One year later, a close friend of mine went through the same thing and I told her to not let it define her as an artist as I did. A year later, we set up our own theatre company, staged a sell out show and walked away with an award.
Rejection whether for a local theatre group or a huge scale film production is never easy to take. The most important thing I have learnt is to not let it define you and what you do after counts the most. Even writing this has made me reflect on my experiences and how I deliver rejection as a producer. As I look out at the fog on Benbulben it has made me think twice and want to be mindful and give more to the artist than a ‘no’. I wish to no longer be like the fog but to let the artist see the full view, give advice and encouragement in moving forward with their craft.
As an acting teacher, I’m often asked how to best prepare for an audition. Being an actor and producer I’ve been on both sides of the audition process. Having recently cast Eva’s Echo’s upcoming production Starseed I felt now was the opportune time to share some audition tips.
Having high quality and clear headshots is often essential when applying to audition. Professional headshots are best but if it is an expense you can not afford ask a friend to take some photos for you, even if the quality is not as high it’s still better than applying without one.
Wear plain clothing, you are the focus.
Same goes for the setting, keep your background plain.
Make sure it looks like you, this means no heavy make up.
Your eyes should be perfectly in focus, alive, and energized.
Some agencies will ask for a full body shot as well as a head and shoulder shot, capture both on the same day for consistency.
Different agencies have preferences for color or black and white headshots, have a copy of each shot in both styles.
A showreel is a great opportunity to showcase your talent before your audition. If you don’t have any experience on camera you can still create a showreel, simply film 2 – 3 monologues or duologues at home.
Include your name, headshot and agency if you have one at the beginning of your showreel.
Many producers or agents will have limited time to view several showreels so put your best work at the start.
Each clip should ideally be of similar length, around 30 seconds per clip is ideal.
Show the variety of your talent by showcasing contrasting roles.
If you have a suitable clip, lead with a clip of a project similar to the one you’re applying for.
Do not include extra work in your showreel, unless you are applying for an extra role.
When preparing for an audition make sure you are not wearing clothing that will limit your ability to act. Those skinny jeans might look great, but if your unable to use the space or follow the directors physical direction your putting your audition in jeopardy.
Warm up your body and voice before you audition. An actor’s body is their instrument and needs to be tuned before any performance. Due to the amount of audition applications each actor we see at Eva’s Echo usually has a fifteen minute slot. This doesn’t allow time for warm ups in the space.
Be on time or early if possible. I always take note of actor’s punctuality as I see it as a reflection of their time management for rehearsals.
Research the production and the role before applying. Over the years we’ve received so many emails from actors applying for unsuitable roles or for a production that collided with their own schedule because they did not read the application before applying. This wastes both the time of the actor and producer.
Read the script
If you are provided the script or a scene before the audition read and analyse the work, especially the role you are auditioning for. You’ve been given an opportunity to rehearse with the text prior to the audition, meaning the director expects you to have done so. I don’t always provide the script before an audition but when I do I hope to discuss the play with the actor. An extra bonus is when an actor memorizes the script for an audition, without being asked. This has only happened once at Eva’s Echo and when it came down to a severely close call we cast the actor who had put in that extra effort.
When you enter the audition room you have an opportunity to introduce yourself. The time spent speaking with an actor before their performance is an important part of the audition. When casting I am always factoring in how people would work together as creating a strong team is just as important as strong performances in individual roles. Be yourself, be friendly and use the time to show the director what you would be like to work with.
After you’ve completed your first reading the director will often ask you to perform the piece again with notes. This an opportunity to show your variety and that you can take direction. Make sure you understand the directors note and ask for clarity if needed.
Be open and authentic, if you have a question about the script, the production or the rehearsal process it’s the best time to ask.
In light of the two year anniversary of our debut of the romantic comedy ‘Match’, I thought it was only appropriate to blog about a relevant theme. We’ve all been there, all in search of something special with detours along the way. Awkward secondary school crushes, dramatic romantic affairs in uni, long term relationships, brief encounters, standing up dates, being stood up, blind dates, Tinder dates and so forth. The same goes as an artist but can vary depending on the scenario and the stages one may be at.
Act One: Pursuing
The search on cast/class nights out, the swiping on an App and creeping in the college library/theatre. Underneath all the drama and excitement of pursuing a beau, an artist like anyone else wants a meaningful connection. Best case scenario would be picnics in a meadow while the love interest plays the guitar while you recite poetry and then, you know. You know that you’ve found the one… It doesn’t exactly happen that way though. Typically you’d be doing your best take on movies, making impressions with your knowledge of art/literature/theatre practices and or reciting that famous monologue. Over blaring music at a house party/night club you debate why Brecht’s works are still significant in modern society although the person in question may not know who Brecht is. This sets your ambitions to impress higher and then you share more of your ‘artsy’ knowledge. In some cases you successfully woo said person and you walk away with a number/Facebook friend request. This leads into more conversations about your chosen craft. Late night texts, funny memes they thought you might like, ‘Hey, how’re you?’ messages and so forth. Before you know it, you’ve been asked to go for a drink/coffee.
Act Two: Dating
So, you have a date. You have caught the attention of another being who could potentially be the guitar player/poetry reader under the tree. What now? Well, you need to make sure you’ve enough artistic material to keep you covered in conversation in order to not repeat yourself, a killer outfit which expresses your individuality while appealing your best assets, and… Wait, did you already tell them about your trip to London and the terrible Opera? You can’t repeat yourself again, quick! What else is there? No you’ve said too much about Brecht and you’ve said your ‘let’s break the fourth wall’ joke. Ok, don’t panic. You’ll definitely have more to say.
You arrive and there they are… Where’s the music? The lighting change? Hmm, alright then. You exchange a friendly meeting and you proceed to get coffee/drink, the curtain is up. The date in all goes well, you laugh and find out more about your potential beau as they share their interests with you, artistic and others. The panic you had before seems irrelevant now and you continue to enjoy the rest of your date.
Act Three: Relationship
The unimaginable has happened, your potential beau is now your beau. They go to all your shows/exhibitions, they lend a helping hand for flyering/get outs, they have tea made after a long rehearsal, they show extra support during tech/show/exhibition week and know not to throw anything out that may be a ‘prop’. Your house is full of crap and you’re drowning in paperwork from applications/scripts but they are there for you throughout. They are at the stage where they know references from Grease and Chicago which they may not like the fact that they do but they know how much those movies mean to you and embrace it. You do the same for them, whether they are a fellow artist or not. Then on a summer’s day you are sitting outside reciting poetry while they are playing guitar/picking a song on Youtube… And then ye have to leg it inside out of the rain cause let’s face it we’re in Ireland.
An artist’s journey for love and romance is no different from others whether looking for love, dating or being in a relationship. They embark on their search in the same ‘stages’, experience the same fear of having nothing to talk about on a first date and dream of having that magical moment as depicted in romance novels/movies. Like any relationship though it is important to remember that ‘Perfect is just perfect, better is better.’