For all who were somehow unaware, being an actor is all about rejection. I’ve gotten pretty used to it, and, surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me that much. Of course, there’s always that audition for a part that is absolutely perfect and why oh why didn’t they call? But most of the time, I feel pretty good about doing my best and walking out and moving on. Next.

I should note that I do honestly love to audition. I won’t say I don’t get nervous–I totally do, and half the time I’m trying to perform monologues while hiding the fact that my legs are shaking. And I won’t say it’s always fun to beg my boss for an hour during the day so I can dash out of work, spend 45 minutes getting to and from Ripley-Grier, 15 minutes waiting, and 30 seconds reading sides that I’ve spent days working on. Or to shlep out to Brooklyn on a Sunday night to do a one minute monologue, or to beg a friend to read sides with me so I can “tape” an audition on my iPhone. However, I always look at auditions as an opportunity to perform–whether its one of the monologues I’ve worked so hard at, or sides for something new and exciting. It’s a chance to play a character that I might never get to meet again–even if it’s only for a minute or two.

I had an audition experience these past few weeks that generated a really strong mix of emotions. I had the chance to audition for a really fantastic, well-written, interesting play that will be performed as part of a festival this summer. The first sides were awesome, and I got really into the character–she was intelligent, and interesting, and like me but very different, and going through something difficult but not super melodramatic. I had such a good time learning the first set of sides, and a fantastic first audition with a terrific director/writer. And I got a callback!

I should mention now that I really wanted this part. I’ve had few opportunities thus far to really want a specific part–I often have vague character breakdowns and I go in and do a monologue, or read a short and totally out of context scene. This time I had the whole play, I had five long, meaty scenes (between the first audition and the callback), and I wanted this part. I had a week to prepare, and I spent every spare minute working on my scenes. I read the play three times. I met with two friends to work on the audition. I felt incredibly prepared, and ready.

As you can probably tell, I didn’t get it (or this would be a very different blog post). And I’m super disappointed, but–the callback was a really interesting experience, and good reminder of what people tell me over and over and over again: casting isn’t personal.

Rejection certainly feels personal, but in this callback, I got the opportunity to see four other girls auditioning for the same part. I’m not saying I’d want to do this all the time, since it was sort of terrifying, but it was really interesting to see everyone’s (very) different take on this character. We may have all been the same “type,” but we each brought something completely different to the role–and I left thinking, well, if the director sees the character like this as opposed to like that, there’s just nothing I can do about it. If he sees the character as taller or ditzier or blonde, well–that just isn’t me.

And that is what happened–the director decided that the character was more like someone else. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt–because, like I said, I wanted this part–but it was sort of comforting to realize that I wasn’t a failure, and I wasn’t a bad actor. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Now on to the next one.