The girl auditioning had a
flighty little voice. I marked her sheet chorus in the event she made the cut. Chorus
didn’t have a lot of parts but there would be quite a few of them for the
scenes in which they did appear. Her voice wasn’t strong or powerful even with
the microphone on her ear. I wasn’t even sure I was going to cast her, but I
always felt badly for dismissing people before they were done. Given my latest
actions, I didn’t want to feel worse than I already did.
When the mousy thing finally
finished, I thanked her, calling forth the next person.
The college had allowed me to
use one of the smaller auditoriums as I planned to cast mostly students in the
production. There was a small balcony, but no orchestra pit, and the seats
needed to be replaced. Even the walls were drab and dated. The stage, at least,
was in decent condition with a beautifully carved—though faded—proscenium.
Carmen sauntered onto the
stage, her blond locks pulled back into a high ponytail.
“I’ll be auditioning for the
lead,” she said, as though I didn’t know already.
“You don’t even know what the available
roles are.”
“I know there has to be a lead
female role of some kind.”
“The production is entitled Musical as there is no other title given
to it. You may claim to audition for the lead, but I will ultimately decide if
you make the production at all.”
“I realize that,” she answered.
“I’ll start now.”
And she did. Her voice had a
certain beauty to it, but there wasn’t anything raw about it. She was trained
to sing, and in that training, she seemed to have lost the soul of her voice. I
marked Carmen down in one of the two secondary roles. It would suit her,
playing one of the best friends to Gisele’s lead. Hopefully it would minimize
damage control as she would be the better of the two.
“Thank you, and we’ll be in
touch,” I said, as I had for probably the thirtieth time that night. “Next?”
A few people later, Baron stepped
onto the stage. He had a demanding yet unassuming presence, standing with his
feet apart and his thumbs hooked in his pockets.
“I have no idea what I’m
supposed to be doing.”
“Sing a few lines from your
favorite song.”
Shrugging, he began a country
song; I was right about him. He had a great baritone voice. If I needed, he
could probably hit most of the tenor and bass ranges. I marked him down for the
male lead’s friend.
“Did you want a part?”
“I don’t care,” he said,
shrugging again. “Did she audition?”
“Yes, she auditioned,” I said, adding
a question mark to his sheet and setting it off to the side. “Thank you, we’ll
be in touch. Next?”
From there the auditions went
downhill. It seemed every person who had ever thought they might be able to
sing came. I was somewhat grateful, though. It meant I had more time to think
about Gisele and how I would begin her rehearsals.
We could start right into the
thick of it, but that would be impossible. It would be giving her a crutch
without her realizing it. Then when her rehearsals coincided with everyone
else’s, we wouldn’t accomplish anything.
“Thank you, we’ll be in touch. Next?”
I had a month with her. In that
time, she had to learn to trust me as well as herself. The production would
fall apart if she didn’t trust especially herself. Trusting me was just a bonus.
There had to be a balance between working on the music and working on her
self-esteem. I didn’t yet know where that was.
“…Next?”
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