Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Tag: theatre (Page 2 of 3)

The Cursed Audition

I held auditions at the beginning of the week. I am the best person to audition for (I think) because I really understand how it feels; how agonising and hideous it is, and how ridiculous a thing it is to do. I really try hard to make people feel comfortable enough to give their best shot, and to leave feeling like they did well. I also try and tell people that if they don’t get the job it isn’t because they weren’t good. There are so many factors to take into account.

This week I saw the best and the worst, the bravado, the nerves, the talent, the need, the disappointment, the energy, the hope and excitement, the expectation and the fear. And I am grateful and full of appreciation for every single last person I saw.

Now, I’d love to send a few little hints out to actors who will spend many more hours in front of many more directors, auditioning for stuff they may or may not get. 1. Always be open. Listen before you do anything. Instructions are there to help you be safe. Sometimes actors are so nervous about the impression they create that they completely forget to listen to what is needed of them. Listening to those first bits are very useful and can even help the whole thing slow down to a more manageable speed. 2. Take notes from the director. Remember, they want you to be good too. 3. Ask questions if you are unsure, but don’t get too complicated. 4. Ask to do it again if the way you did it the first time made you feel horrible. 4. Know that there is the possibility that even if you do your best you might not get it, but don’t decide that until you have tried your best. 5. Be honest. If you are not available for the dates, don’t audition. 6. Don’t harass the director afterwards. You will always be contacted if you got the part, and mostly, the director will say by when. 7. The industry in Cape Town is very small. Make sure you have a good reputation, and people enjoy working with you. Talent is only part of the package. 8. And finally, remember, the director has a big picture.

In my experience these are the things that count as much as talent when I am casting. 1. Reliability. When I am directing something for a corporate client I need to take it for granted that you will be at rehearsals on time, not miss any of them, be at the airport very early, and be constantly available to me by phone. If you aren’t there is a problem. 2. Team work. You have to get on with the rest of the cast, on and off stage. If I am casting for new characters to join an existing group of people I will always check in with the other cast members to see if they like the idea of working with you. I will always listen to them. 3. Reputation. What do other people in the industry say about you? Recently, I had my eye on someone who I thought was really talented and suited to a part. I asked around. People shared some interesting feedback and I realised that using her might be more work than I was prepared to take on. I trust my instincts. There are projects where I am completely prepared to take the risk and those where I am not. 4. Social behaviour. What are you like when I bump into you at a function or party? 5. I know this one might sound silly, but, do you know who I am and what I do? This is not about flattery. If I have done my homework on you, you can just as easily have done yours on me. Have you googled me? Checked me out on facebook? Do you understand the work?

I really hope this rambling post helps.

Expectant

Last night I went to see Expectant at Alexander Bar, created and directed by Penny Youngelson (part of Rust Co-Operative) and performed by Rebecca Makin-Taylor. It was the final performance there, but they have a tiny run at TAAC soon (just so you know).

I was pretty taken up with this quite extraordinary  piece of theatre. This is not a review of Expectant. At this stage of its showing I doubt that it needs that. This is me trying to explain why I liked it so very much, in the best possible way.

I really liked this piece of work because it is entirely itself. What that is, is complex, funny, challenging, self absorbed, self conscious, indulgent, clever, critical, big, slow, crazy, full of promise, washed with disappointment, lots of beauty, and articulation, and sound, and pointlessness, and wacky character and carapace/constriction/period dress, and weird big hair, and glass cups and red tampon-like string things. It is South African, and a clue to what young clever people are thinking and feeling, and it nods to my past, and indulges my whiteness and it made me feel again how I don’t have children (a deeply personal moment of powerful and unintended connection). It is long and complicated and verbose and full, and try as I might, I missed stuff and laughed and missed the next thing and then was taken by surprise by the next thing.

This piece made me excited for another big reason. It is made for itself. It is made to speak its own special stuff, with its own voice. It has not been made with an audience in mind, because if it had been it would have been very different. It is theatre that reminded me that theatre can be made without imagining who will see it, and pandering to them. And there will be people who will get it, or at least enough of it to count. This is brave theatre. It is probably full of its own heartache, but my sense is that the young women who have made it are pretty strong.

Let’s be honest

Dear , it was so wonderful to have a frank, exciting, challenging, inspiring theatre chat with you last night. It made me feel brave, and it inspired me to continue to be loud and honest about an industry that, quite frankly, isn’t.

I loved what you said about how people live, talk, read, debate, engage with and participate in theatre in Argentina, and I am jealous that we don’t. I am frustrated every day by the smallness, pettiness and bullshit of the South African theatre industry and community in general, and Cape Town in particular. I am always angry at how it’s so easy to wrong and offend people, how ungenerous people are around both giving and receiving criticism, and how the tininess of the industry pool makes us in or out of a nasty little boys’ club.

I hate the fact that people lie to each other about their work and then bitch behind their backs. I hate that even I am often silenced by the certainty that it will be seen as me rather than what I say. I hate the feeling that people are not honest and brave and challenging with me, and that they rather bitch behind my back. I am frustrated that we are not united in the common goal of building beautiful, meaningful, challenging theatre AND audiences. I am angry that we are not allowed to fail, and be held by each other when we do. I am enraged that we continue, in our timidity, to not have the debate, the honest discussion, the ‘here’s what I think’ bold statement.

It terrifies me that people have all pleaded with me to continue writing about theatre and that I should do it anonymously. As if I would be saved from being associated with my opinion. We are playing a horrible, dishonest, full of blame, trumped-up success, desperate and spiteful game here. And it makes me sick and sad.

So Nikki, when I want to say these things I will just have to find you.

Making way for the big, beautiful stuff

When I realised what was going down with my application for Grahamstown this year I was really angry, hurt and frustrated. To be honest, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was in a bad dream and I kept hoping (inwardly) that I had got it wrong and that it would turn out right in the end. And that is exactly what has happened for me.

It turns out I am going to NYC in June for work; I have been working on a very amazing business for the last six or so years called Great Guide and I am going to NYC to do research for the City Sightseeing Bus there. It gets better. One of my besties and most favourite travel partner Jaci de Villiers is coming with because we will be designing, planning and writing the content together. I wake up in the middle of the night with a ball of excitement in my gut.

As if that wasn’t enough, Tandi Buchan, Candice D’Arcy and I are representing SA improv and will be travelling to Canberra Oz to participate in a massive improv festival for the first week of July, at the exact time of the Grahamstown festival. I will be spending the rest of the month in Oz, checking out the improv and theatre scene, hanging with friends and family, and hooking up with another bestie Robyn at her house in the hills of Oz. Can you believe it? I am beyond myself with excitement.

Bad, dead theatre

I could feel it coming. I had been finding it harder and harder to say what I really felt about certain shows. I found myself being kinder than usual. I started feeling bad for performers. I started softening a harsh response. And then I went to see a show that I found so dismal, dreary and dead I couldn’t actually write a blog post about it at all. I had found the production completely ill considered, deadly boring, unsuccessfully designed, hideously under-interpreted, base and crass, and a waste of my (not very) precious time. I was angry when I left. I felt like bits of tatty wool were about to be pulled over audiences’ eyes. As I walked back to my car I decided that I would keep my big mouth shut on this one and simmer in my own stew of disgust.

And now I am paying for it, because then I started seeing the ‘good things’ that other people were saying about this dismal production. I thought I was going crazy. I started feeling like I was on another planet. How was this possible? Surely not? But, yes. From what I could gather, certain bloggers and critics seemed to sort-of like this show. Others were obviously co-opted into saying good things. And I started boiling in my own bitter juices. This was an injustice. People were going to go off to this show on the recommendation of others and they would be (secretly, if not publicly) horrified that this crap could be considered to be good.

So, I have made a new year’s resolution about this. I am going to say what I feel, every single time. I will end up making people cross. I will offend certain performers and piss off directors. But, honestly, I am missing the whole point of doing this if I don’t put it out there, good, bad and completely hideous.

PS. For those of you who wondered what I thought about the unmentionable show before you decided to go and see it, I promise to honour your readership better and more from now on.

Where the Audience is King

I took the jibe about TheatreSports personally (comment 14). Usually I’m not that sensitive so I tried to work out why I was this time, and I think I’ve come up with an answer. TheatreSports is loved; not only by those of us who perform it, but also by our audiences, who have proved their love by coming over and over again in the last 18 years. Of course there have been times when there’s been a bit of a dip in attendance, but I think that a theatrical product running mostly twice a week in Cape Town, for 18 years is testimony to the fact that audiences love it.

I got to thinking about how hard it is to get bums on seats in our theatres in Cape Town (and even in SA in general). Aside from the totally tried and tested big musicals (and not even those every time), shows really battle to do even short three week runs. My guess it is because most people don’t like theatre much; not enough to make it a regular thing anyway. And so I got to thinking why, and I have come up with a few reasons for that too. The first and most obvious reason is that theatre has a bit of a bad rep. I think most ordinary people think “it’s not for them”. I think most ordinary people think that theatre is intellectual, arty, fringe and high-brow, with only the big, well known mainstream musicals (in which at least some of the songs are known) being safe live fodder. I think most ordinary people think that theatre is expensive, especially when they could be making a horrible mistake and ending up being bored to tears, confused or intimidated. I think theatre can be quite scary for those who do not have theatre vocabulary or experience. I also think that most ordinary people have absolutely no, or very little trust in what reviewers, critics, theatre makers, and the publicity and marketing machines say about the shows.

And so to meganshead. It seems like I have developed a bit of a reputation for being a harsh judge of the stuff I see (even though, on average, I like and am complimentary about 70% of it) and I have had the sense lately that people think if I don’t like something it is because I have a problem. But why would I? I take my self appointed, opinionated and personal blog reviewing very, very seriously. I want my readers (however tiny my readership) to know what I thought, and for them to trust that it is an honest response. That way we can build an audience who trust a certain opinion and can feel safe about going to the theatre again and again, and even joyfully contesting what I say when they disagree.

I am a firm believer in “the audience is always right”. Nothing makes me happier than when a little sleeper of a production does better and better, selling out by the end of the run because friends have told friends to go and check it out. So thank you TheatreSports (and industrial theatre which is made for a target audience) for reminding me that the Audience is King.

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