I Like to Be in America! O.K. by me in America!

First posted by Polly McKie on Friday, April 26, 2013 

I woke up today and spoke in an American accent.

Not because I have forgotten my roots.  Not because I have turned into Sheena Easton. I chose to speak this way. And I booked a job.

My journey with my American voice has been long and interesting (well, I find it fascinating, but that’s because it’s all about me.) As with many actors, I thought I had a firm grasp on what an American accent was and I could do it without any trouble. Boy, was I wrong.  I now look back and think I was some kind of combination of Fran Drescher and Miss Adelaide. I admit a little of a snooty attitude to taking speech class at HB Studio.  As a foreign student, I had to take speech with the other foreign students who had English as a second language. (Glaswegian could be considered another language, but that’s a whole other blog.) I resented it. I was wrong again.  Enter Amanda Quaid! A class and teacher who changed everything for me. For the better (no offence to the great Fran and Adelaide).

Of course, I am happy to play the Scotch Irish (please enlighten me what Americans mean by that) drunk/mother/nanny etc. Heck, I’d even play the maid! I realised, though, that if I wanted to be cast in anything other than Irish plays (most Americans think I am Irish), I needed to master a passable American and not be a caricature (I’m enough of a caricature in real life without adding a funny voice to the equation). I had to learn that pool and pull do not rhyme in American.

That’s harder than it sounds.

I realized that I needed to work.  And I worked.  I took Amanda’s class and I studied with her privately and I practised (or, if I’m speaking in my American dialect, practiced).  Any chance I had, I used my American.  Chances for me were when I spoke to strangers (a cab, a deli, etc.).  If I had attempted to try it with my family or friends, I would have been ridiculed. There is a fine, fine line when trying to embrace American culture but maintaining one’s heritage.  And when we speak the same language (essentially), that seems to make it more complicated. I argued with some of the E.S.L. students that, in some ways, Amanda’s class was harder for me.  I had to “unlearn” how to say words I had been using all my life.  After hours, weeks, months of drilling and practice and working on the key to being believable (making it sound like ME) skip to today:

First there was a callback for a character from the midwest (I am from the midwest of Scotland, but this was for the midwest of America).  I have learned, after many mistakes, and much advice from Amanda, just to start in American from the very beginning.  So I speak to the bus driver in American.  I order a bagel in American. I chat to people in the lift (sorry, elevator) at Ripley Grier in American.  Trouble is when you bump into someone you know, but I am working on that.
Biggest compliment is that no one asks me where I am from.  If I go in for something American and am not asked, then I know I have convinced them.  Or even better at one audition: I performed my American monologue. Then the casting director chatted to me.  He looked at my C.V. (sorry, resume) and asked “So what took you to Scotland?”

When leaving that first audition this morning, there was a voicemail from a casting director about a reading for a new screenplay: Hi, I received your submission for the role and want to ask you about your accents.
So, I called back.
Me (in own voice): Do you want to hear me speak in an American accent now?
C.D. (in her own voice too, I assume!): Yes, please.  If you don’t mind.
Me (in American): No problem.  I’m not sure what to talk to you about!  You can also see clips on my website from Heidi Marshall’s class and I use my American for those.
C.D. Do you mind holding the line while I watch?
Me: Of course not.
3 minutes of being on hold (seemed like 3 hours).
C.D. Well, that’s impressive.  It’s very hard to be able to hide a Scottish accent. I’d like to book you now if you’re free next Friday.

With So Little to be Sure of

First posted by Polly McKie on Monday, March 25, 2013

With so little to be sure of, if there’s anything at all?

Why go to an E.P.A.? I am non-union: why bother? I won’t be seen: why bother? It’s the Equity required call: why bother? It’s already cast: why bother? They don’t need replacements: why bother? They are only looking for understudies or replacements: why bother?

Here’s why:

I went to my first E.P.A. (Equity Principal Audition) thanks to Amanda Quaid. She was my first speech and dialect teacher here in the U.S. (I’m thrilled to say that she has become my friend). She is a wonderful actress and knows what it is like to be a non-union actor starting out. She sent me a casting notice and showed me the A.E.A.website and casting calls. It might seem like a small thing but it was a major step for me. I see so many actors who avoid actually going and it seems to me that the main reason is fear of the unknown. It’s terrifying. But, thanks to Amanda’s persuasion, I went. I felt ill. I drank so much water, I think I might have developed a camel hump. (I was lucky that this first experience was at Telsey, so I was allowed to use the facilities.) I knew nothing. I thought everyone was staring at me and judging me and, worst of all, laughing at me. But I went. I found the monitor and I signed my name on the non-equity list. And nobody laughed. Nobody pointed. So far, so good. I sat and waited. I watched. I learned. I went from 8a.m. and hoping that I would not be seen (out of fear) to feeling devastated when I heard the announcement at about 11a.m. that they would not be seeing non-Equity. So I left with that little nugget of disappointment but skipping (not literally: that’s not a pretty sight) that I had achieved something. I showed up.

Fast forward (after many more E.P.A.s: new fears and new experiences and dealing with not being able to use the bathrooms at A.E.A.) to a snowy day in February, 2011. I forced myself out the door and went to A.E.A. There was snow lying on the ground, so I donned my lovely bright pink wellington boots and packed my shoes into my bag, careful not to squash my headshots and resumes. I trudged crosstown and sat on the wooden benches all day and used the McDonald’s facilities. At 4.30, I was invited into the lounge and was seen! Woohoo. It was fine. I did my work but I was not feeling that anything would come of it. I left and was about to go and grab that well-deserved post audition/I have been working hard all day/sitting on wooden benches since 7a.m. cocktail and I thought, “Well, I’m already out and close. Maybe I should just head to that other call at Pearl (they were seeing Equity and non but it was almost 5p.m.) and check if the call is still open.” (this is before I discovered the wonders of Audition Update) I put my pink wellies (a.k.a. rain boots) back on and walked through the snow. The place was dead. No-one in the holding room and the lights were off. I passed the actual audition room and saw the panel (the wonderful director Elliot Wasserman at New Harmony) laughing and joking behind the desk. I sneaked my head around the door and said “Are you still seeing people?”. I was told to wait outside. A couple of other actors turned up and told me they had appointments. Five minutes later, I was inside performing my monologue, then working on sides, then working on a New York dialect and a speech impediment. I had a wonderful time. I loved them straight away. It was clear the director knew what he was doing and no matter what, I felt I had achieved so much that day. I showed up.

So why go to an audition?

I booked the job and became E.M.C.    

with Claire Warden in “Lost in Yonkers” at New Harmony Theatre.