And Another Hundred People Just Got Off of the Train

First posted by Polly McKie on Monday, May 6, 2013

And came up through the ground,

While another hundred people

just got off of the bus

And are looking around *

I was one of the ones getting off a bus today at 42nd and 9th to head to Westway Diner (a favourite for so many show people) to meet my friend, Vanessa Spica. We had planned to grab a late lunch, gossip a little, read through a scene we were working on for class and I planned to moan to her because I’d had a crappy day (but that’s another story)And in this city of strangers, I bumped into four friends.  First, lovely Liz Reddick (stage manager I met while working at New Harmony Theatre), then in walked Claire Warden and Whitney Egbert: two wonderful actresses, often mistaken for sisters!  Hugs aplenty.  Already my crappy mood was lifting. Then I spotted David Holmes (hot from his appearance last week on Law and Order SVU) and was thrilled to chat to him about that and, of course, about our beloved Austin Pendleton and David’s exciting film “The Austin Pendleton Project”.

And every day,
the ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded streets 
and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees 
with the battered barks,
And they walk together past the postered walls 
with the crude remarks. *

I seem to meet people everywhere I go. Manhattan is a small island, after all. And the actor types congregate in the same places over and over again. Sometimes the people I meet are good friends, sometimes friends of friends, acquaintances, and then, the embarrassing cases where you know you’ve met the person before, but who knows where or when (I think digressing from Sondheim lyrics is acceptable when it’s Rodgers and Hart). Two such stories spring to mind:

First happened at Actors’ Equity. I had been waiting all day on the non-union wooden benches (this story is pre the swanky new 16th floor and pre my E.M.C card). I was taken through to the other side (the glorious haven where one can use the Equity bathroom and, even better, be seen at an audition) and I sat waiting and saw a face I recognised. We looked at each other awkwardly and eventually I said “I know you but I can’t think where from.” He (let’s call him Actor 1) had the same issue.  So we went through various options: opening night at The Pearl, a reading at Abingdon Theatre Company and various other actor-type scenarios. Neither of us could figure it out and went in to our separate auditions still none the wiser.

I left that audition and rushed to Pearl Studios to be seen at another call before it closed at 5.30p.m. I made it and booked that job (but that’s another story) and then headed home, weary and in need of a glass of wine. So I stopped by my favourite wine shop, Sussex Wines (they deliver if anyone wants to send me a gift) to pick up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. I headed to the counter and there, waiting to serve me was Actor 1!

And another hundred people just got off of the train. *

Now, Actor 2.  I was booked to play a role in a reading of a new screenplay. I had convinced the Casting Director I could be all American (but that’s another story) and went in the room meeting new people and pretending to be American. Enter Actor 2. As with Actor 1, I knew I knew him but could not place him. I said “Oh, I think we met at The Network!” Unlike Actor 1, he was clear: “No, I work at Bar Thalia! I met you when you came to sing at Singers’Space.“

Let’s ignore the running theme of alcohol and focus on the joy of meeting people. Some, of course, we wish we’d never met (Actress 1 who recognised me from a callback and thought that gave her the right to sit next to me at another audition and talk at me, without pausing for breath – but that’s another story), but so many are a joy, a connection, a story, a smile, a lift in one’s spirit on a difficult day.

And another hundred people just got off of the train. *

"Another hundred People Just Got Off of the Train" from "Company". Stephen Sondheim.

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.