If It Be Not Now . . . Chapter 4 After Auditions

***************

        “Shirley, you and  . . . I’m sorry . . . what’s your assistant’s name?”

        “Chloe.”

        “You and Chloe did an excellent job. I was very worried that I had allowed inadequate time to give everyone a good ‘read.’ But you managed to keep things flowing very nicely.”

        “I’ve never seen a call-back where everyone called for a role is called at one time. Is that usual?”

        “It’s usual for me but not in the profession. In the professional theatre it is very rare that anyone gets to read with anyone but a reader hired for the occasion. Once in awhile it is necessary to call someone in to read with an actor already cast, in order to assure that there is the appropriate chemistry, but even that is not very common.”

        Chloe was continuing to stack chair, pick up discarded sides, empty water bottles and the like but it was clear that she was listening very carefully to the discussion. As a sophomore ASM, this was her first opportunity to hear a director explain her practices. The graduate readers were apparently assembling their things very slowly. This was opportunity for them to learn something about the director also.

        “Why do you do it this way,” Shirley asked.

        “While we try to run rehearsals and performances according to professional practices, this is a learning institution. The undergraduates are eager to be cast in order to extend both their resumes and their craft. You can’t really accomplish in a classroom what you can in a rehearsal room for a full production. They deserve to see the work of the people who are cast and those who are not.  It is a critical learning opportunity. They learn not only that seniors are less nervous and better prepared, especially for cold reading than lower classmen. It gives them hope that four years of education are barely sufficient to prepare them to go out into the world. Of course, those you aren’t cast will be royally pissed off for a week or two, but eventually they will be able to accept that the casting was fair. That is, if I’m able to do a good job with the information they’ve given me tonight.”

        “About who is most talented?”

        “Oh, God, no! As far as I’m concerned talent just means having an instrument capable of learning what one needs to learn to develop in an art or a discipline. We try not to take any but students who have sufficient talent. I have to consider each of their degrees of readiness for the challenge of the particular role they’re being considered for and whether they have the right ‘stuff’ for the role.” 

Maggie saw that the grad students were unable to delay their exit any longer without appearing to eavesdrop and were headed for the exit.

 “Hey, guys, are you willing to come across the street and discuss casting with me? Drinks are on me—but only the first one. After that you’re on your own dime.”

        The differences in emotional reaction were fairly comic.  Surprise, disbelief, cynicism, doubt, pleasure—flitted in turn across their faces. “Sure,” they chorused.

As the untidy gaggly wandered in they were greeted by a very tall, smiling bartender.  “Hi, Doc Saltz!  Are all these people with you?”

“Yes.  They’re our new graduate class.  Feel free to check ID’s but I know personally they’re all well above age.”

“I’ll take your word for it—just never saw you here with students before except on opening night.  I guess you’ll be wanting a big table?”

“Could we have the big one with the banquette in back?  It’ll be a squeeze but I think we can all fit there and it gives us a little privacy.”

“Surest thing in the world.  Just follow me. We’re a little shorthanded tonight. I’ll take your orders myself. Your usual?”

“Yes, but make it a double. It’s been a looong day. And you can set my card up for one round.”

Maggie seated herself in the center of the worn red leather banquette and noted how the rest of them jostled to seat themselves in relation to her. While Jay took their orders she reviewed the mental notes she had made about them during their long-ago auditions and added some more recent revisions. Vanessa Stevens, next to her , the youngest and tallest woman of the group.  Long honey-blonde hair and a killer profile, tempered by her physicality.  Watching her hair swinging behind her as they had crossed to the bar she had the bumptious, loose-jointed coordination of a new colt.

Next to her, ordering Bass Ale was, Daniel Katsulas, whose dark smoldering good looks were clearly the genetic inheritance of his Greek ancestors.  His long dark hair, falling over his eye gave him an opportunity to sweep them away to good effect.  He would make a truly romantic Hamlet but his audition promised a fiery one as well.  Fortunately, just short of six feet he had made possible the unusual choice of tall, gangly Vanessa as Ophelia.

Ian MacDougal, surprisingly had take the seat next to Daniel. 
Surprising because of all the newbies he was the most likely to have harbored the illusion that he might be cast as Hamlet.  He was, in his way, as tall and good-looking as Daniel, but his were the farm-boy good looks she identified with the Midwest.  His blond hair was very short, almost buzzed.  And like Daniel he had significant expertise at sword and dagger fencing.  They would be able to produce a climactically exciting duel at the end of the play without too much fear of injury. 

Alanna Doering, at 31, was still very young and attractive.  Pleasantly zaftig, she also had a large face with generous planes that suggested the maturity that would make her sufficiently believable as Gertrude.  Given the procreative rules of twelfth century Denmark there was no reason that Gertrude be any older than forty-six or seven.  Her long very curly hair was presently black but her coloring (and her roots) suggested she was originally a red-head.  She would probably not object to returning to her original color.  Especially as it would create a more striking contrast with Mark Jefferson, her Claudius.  The fact that he had manipulated the seating to take the seat next to her suggested the readings tonight had produced the beginnings of a certain bonding.

At 35 Jason Bogardus was the “grandfather” of the group.  His face somewhat suggested that of an amiable bassett hound.  His thinning hair, cropped short perhaps to hide the fact that there was more gray than a blonde would ordinarily have at his age would align him visually with Ian, his “son,” Laertes.

Juana Delgado completed the group.  She didn’t seem best pleased to be seated either on the banquette on Maggie’s left side or next to Jason.  At twenty-eight her dark hair, flashing eyes, slight accent suggesting an Hispanic heritage coupled with a truly awesome emotional facility and command of Shakespeare had not been sufficient to start a significant career.  Having returned to school for second tier training she alone seemed discouraged at the prospect of three years of development, but this time as a director.  Of course her role as the grave-digger did not give her a clear companion in the graduate cast but allowing her the experience of working with the students in the company she would be writing for would be a significant advantage.  And she was naturally too attractive a young woman to have much difficulty making friends across time.  She would warrant a little extra attention for the next several weeks.  While she had mused on her new brood and her casting choices, the conversation had eddied around her in fits and starts.  Her musing was interrupted by Jay’s return.

       

“Thanks, Jay.  Oh, could we have some peanuts or chips or something?  Thanks.”

Sure thing,  I’ve just gotten in a new shipment of the hot crunchy mix you like.  How about that and the milder blend and a big bowl of peanuts?”

“Sounds good.  How long till last call?”

“About forty-five minutes.”

“That’s about what we’ll need.  Thanks for everything.”