I had sent one application to Langara Campus of Vancouver Community College's Theatre Department, and received that they wanted me to audition... I never did, because I was in love. (For anyone who reads this, you can slap me later with a large blunt instrument!)
But it wasn't until early in 1996 that I applied to Mount Royal College's Department of Theatre and Speech (formally called Fine Arts, but changed since people were calling in and asking if they could buy pots or paintings from them). I sent only one application that spring, and forgot about it. I was sent a letter informing me that they wanted me to come and audition for entrance and I immediately flipped out. Not only was I worried that I hadn't really auditioned for anything in a long time, but I had no material to audition with. Plus they wanted me to have a song ready to sing... yipes.
I immediately rushed to my former high school drama teacher and friend, Daniel Vecchio for assistance. Preparing for him to hand me a perfect piece for an audition... he handed me a book and said, "Find one." Actually sitting in his class reading through the book while he was teaching his class I was surprised by his unwillingness to help me out... but now I realize he probably wanted me to do something on my own... without asking for approval first... Thanks Daniel.
I didn't find anything that actually struck me as a good piece, but I think I copped out picking a piece that required an accent which I can't pull off... German. I never read the play so I didn't fully understand what was going on... and not to mention I was very undisciplined by not learning my lines fully.
So, knowing this dear reader, you would expect that I went to Calgary, Alberta, with the intention of getting prepared for the audition, right? I had honourable intentions... but something happened... and his name was Wayne Murray Lobb.
Murray and I were in school from grade one all the way to his graduation (nope, I didn't graduate with him... I was a schmuck in school and I had quit too). So, it was a great reunion to see my buddy after six years. And of course, both being from Hay River, Northwest Territories, the party capital of the world (southerners often realize they can't drink with us and be still visually unimpaired), he took me out where I was introduced to several people (whom I mostly forgot), drank our faces off, and went back to his apartment where we slept off the two hours before his going to work, and my audition (another cardinal no-no in acting).
So, I went to the audition with no hangover, (maybe I was still drunk) and very ill-prepared for the task at hand. We all waited in the lobby of the Wright Theatre where I got to see some of my competition... suddenly I was feeling very amateurish in my condition... and underdressed. People were dressed in suits and ties, evening gowns, or black jeans and dress shirts. Here I was with faded jeans with holes in the knees, and a plain navy blue t-shirt (fashion experts: if this is a major faux pas, I don't want to hear about it).
We were all called into the theatre, where we were told how the auditions were going to work. They called our names in the order they would be received, and I heard my name fell somewhere between the third and sixth person... I don't remember exactly now, after all it was three years ago.
So I auditioned for Tom Besse and Doug Rathbun (sp. on his last name, and he gets credit for the photo from Camelot) doing my scene which I thought stunk. They asked me to stop about half way through, which kind of assured me that they too thought it stunk. And I chose to sing acapella a song by Collin Raye called, "Love, Me," which they also told me they heard enough. I left very discouraged and thought that maybe it wasn't too late for broadcasting school.
Murray took me out again the next couple of nights.
So, you can understand just how shocked I was when I got the letter that I was accepted into the Theatre Arts Department at Mount Royal. I called everyone... my parents, my friends, Daniel Vecchio, but first I called my then girlfriend Natasha Doolittle. I was estatic. I was also scared... I had been out of school since Musical Theatre in December 1992.
But when I did attend college, I got along with everyone in my class and found out the odds of getting into the program... one hundred and fifty-two people auditioned, while only twenty-three were accepted. I don't think they accepted me out of pity... and now, I do give myself some credit for my abilities (although I still believe that I could have been better prepared).
By the way in the pic... I'm the second person to the right of the girl in the white dress.
Auditions for the musical "Camelot," were the cattle call type auditions where we wander up on stage in front of the auditioners and every person auditioning had to sing their song. Very nerve racking.
I sang, "The Change," by Garth Brooks. Let me tell you for your own reference, if you want to audition for a musical... sing a musical show tune. Because the directors look for that... but it's hard to do when you have a guy sing Opera... how do you compare.
I was given the part of "a singer"... but it turns out the part was really for one scene where I was to sing a solo in part of this one song. But it turns out I shared the singing with co-star Chris Sjonnesen... my former co-star from "Oklahoma," in Fort St. John. So for the program, I wanted the credit changed from "a singer" to "a knight" which they did change for me.
This was the first small part I've ever had in a play, so this was definitely a first for me. I felt a little discouraged being just one person in the background, even though the saying, "There are no small roles, only small actors," was passing through my mind a thousand times. I did this job with the attitude of "I'll do this job with the best of my ability." Feeling rather unnoticed, co-stars, Mark and Vanessa Holmes' mother paid me a great compliment by telling me she thought I was the most authentic looking knight out on stage.
But then again, she also told me I should never cut my hair... I can grow it again, Mrs. Holmes.
