Auditions! GAH! Had a VeryFine audition today singing for Pasadena Playhouse and Goodspeed. They actually remembered me! I am not a complete black hole who is forgotten forever. So that's pretty nice. I feel that I sang quite well, and I can feel my voice getting stronger and back up to muster. It also helps that my voice is getting stronger as I get older, just as my voice teacher told me it would.
The strangest thing about today was witnessing the total difference between Equity calls here and in New York. In New York, if I woke up by 6AM, it was already too late. People would already have gotten there by 4 AM. I'd go racing down to the Equity building, where there would already be a line stretching all the way down the block, and everyone would shiver in the below freezing weather until the building opened at 8 AM. Then it was a crapshoot if you'd actually get a slot or not. Here in Los Angeles, it's like going to a massage parlour or something. I didn't even make it to the audition studio until 8:45, at which point there were two people milling about. The doors were open, and inside were huge comfy chairs and actual chandeliers. I didn't know what to do with myself. I kept thinking there must be a mistake, that I must have gotten the day wrong or something. A couple of actors wandered in looking skinny, suntanned, and annoyed at being awake any time before noon. I said to anyone who would listen, "Where is everybody?" An older actor who has lived here forever (he used to be a lead on Square One TV, remember that show on PBS? I just found him on imdb, what a nonstop career) told me this is how it is here. Especially for musical theatre, no one shows up.
Now, you would think this would raise the odds of me getting cast. Not according to the agent that was interested in signing me. She thought it over then told me that she "already had one female soprano, what could I do with another? There just aren't enough union jobs in this town. But call me if you don't get signed by anyone else." Yeah, ok. Thanks for the confidence. I didn't realize that there's only room in this town for one soprano.
I miss the Discipline (there's that word again) of New York. I don't think I fully rose to its challenges, and maybe I wasn't ready to. It eventually became so much more comforting to follow a routine than to brave the audition lines (and lack of income) for a hope of a callback that never came. I understand now that I had lost faith in myself. And that's the thing: whether I'm here, New York, or Podunk, it's not going to matter unless I trully believe that I am worthy of my calling. I need to find what it was that made me believe I had the right to make art.