Devising Auditions 101

Maybe you're like me and you've never been to a devising audition before. Sure, you know how to memorize a monologue. You've been trained rigorously to introduce yourself, your piece, and then say thank you before leaving. You know where to set your eyes so you don't make the important people in the room uncomfortable. And you're certain that what you have to offer is different from everyone else, and hopefully that will be enough.

Devising auditions-- so I've learned-- definitely don't work like that. Now, let me clarify: I attend a Devised Performance MFA program with a prestigious devising ensemble theatre company. This does not mean by any stretch of the imagination that I know everything about devising. This weekend was the first devising audition I've attended outside of auditioning by myself for this graduate program.

A company from Chicago came to Philadelphia this weekend to resurrect a show they first produced a few years ago. The people running this ensemble company studied in Europe and have similar methodologies to what we study here in Philly. But, in case you didn't know, every single devising process on the planet is different from every other. No two companies devise alike. Everyone has created a different way of getting to the end result--a show.

This process takes time to create, and requires building a common language between bodies. For this reason, most devising companies are ensembles--they don't audition others to join them. Teaching others to work like them, after not sharing a common bond for so long is daunting and often fraught with pitfalls. Sometimes when companies are auditioning, they invite collaborators who have seen them work or seen their process to the auditions. Sometimes they invite only one person to come in. And sometimes, they'll get a whole new group together for a project so they can learn together. I would say this Chicago company is doing the latter.

This company originally split us into two time slots, with each time slot being two hours long. As they continued to accept submissions, they realized they'd need to adjust the timing. So each of these two hour slots was split into one hour slots. When I arrived (early, as we all know you should do) I learned that the time slots would hold about 20 people per group. That's right, in a devised audition you are there to show the director that you can create something from nothing with an ensemble. There is no auditioning alone!

And here's the thing. I knew this going in. I understood that I would be auditioning with other performers I hadn't met before. What I didn't understand, is what exactly that would feel like, and how it would function. Here's the basic run down of how the audition functioned:

1. Everyone circled up with the director in the middle of the room and we agreed that we were there to audition the company as much as they were there to audition us. We each had a say in how interested we would be in continuing a relationship at the end of the time slot.
2. We introduced ourselves with our name, our pronouns, and then our favorite brand of cereal.
3. We made eye contact with someone in the room (to prove that we could function as an ensemble of course) and switched spaces with them.
4. We introduced ourselves again, then switched spaces. We discussed not leaving gaps in the circle to learn how to work in close quarters together.
5. We introduced ourselves a third time, and then the director proved he could say all of our names correctly by memory.
6. Then we were asked to perform the history of the American Revolution in 30 seconds, individually. We were given 3 minutes to prepare somewhere in the room. No words allowed, but sound was.
7. We performed in a random order.
8. Then we were split into groups of 3, given the same assignment, and performed it again.
9. Then we were split into 3 groups of 5-7 and performed it again.
10. The audition was over and we were told we would hear soon about callbacks that evening.

After this audition I spent some time reflecting on the process. I'm one of those crazy actors that loves to audition. I get so excited to get into a room and show you what I can do. That's because I was always very good at cold reading from a script and interpreting a character. Or showing a monologue that no one else would think to do. I had to spend some time dissecting not only how different this process felt and how I felt about it, but I also wanted to ruminate on what I felt was successful about how the audition was run.

A few years ago, I would have thought the only important part of an audition was how I performed. These days, I'm taught to think more process oriented, and I'm encouraged to question everything. This weekend I proposed the question to myself: How would I have run this devising audition? What could have made it better?

I'm certain (certain) that every devising audition is vastly different from another, because every devising project asks something different of us. In this audition they were looking for 7 performers who would perform physically together on a platform that's around 3ft x 7ft. This is their technique. Give the ensemble a huge obstacle and see what engaging theatre comes out of it.

That means this company was looking for: very physically precise performers, who could use their body in multiple ways, and knew how to share space and give focus. There were other things like accents, singing, and characters involved. But generally speaking, you're looking for a specific kind of performer, probably of not too varying height, and they did specify preferring people of color.

What I learned from watching my entire group perform is that these 30 second individual pieces didn't seem to serve the audition well. Many people did the same things, and for those of us (like me) whose idea was taken by someone else early in the line up, we were forced to try and take a risk being different doing something we hadn't rehearsed. Yes, the director gets to see an individual body move. Could that have been accomplished with a less in depth exercise? Absolutely. Did individual creativity matter from a 3 minute rehearsal? My experience in ensemble work is that you're learning to create together. Being a great individual creator doesn't make you a great ensemble member. In my opinion, giving such a labor intensive creation exercise to be judged on individually didn't reap huge rewards, especially when auditioning for a show that is not improvisation based.

I did think the sections of being grouped off in small and large ensembles was very effective. Perhaps if we'd had the extra time from the individual round allotted to this section they could have witnessed some very creative pieces. Again, many things were repeated. Certain groups agreed on an abstract aesthetic, and some agreed to be more literal. When not knowing your fellow creators, it can be difficult to find consensus on the kind of work you want to present in a high stakes audition. With our 3 minutes to rehearse my experience was going with the first idea and trying to sell it.

Reflecting on the audition I don't know that a creative space was made in the room until the end group performances. There wasn't an opportunity through exercises to showcase physicality. Because people were trying to show they could work in a small space, most stayed central during their performance. The time spent saying names and switching places didn't translate into anything helpful when we worked in groups later. Repeating the same story (American Revolution) in every audition performance could have bred creativity to try something different, but with the time crunch created instead a recycling of things. There seemed to be a lot of missed opportunities, and I'd like to think that's because they had to quickly restructure the time slots to accommodate more bodies. What would I have done differently?

I would have capped the number of people auditioning. I would have accepted no one late to the audition. I would have started with group exercises and not focused so much on names. Perhaps some trust exercises, certainly exercises of weight sharing or building images. I would have put the individual performances at the end, and prompted it to be a different story overall.

Something about asking people to perform individually in front of each other before creating a space for the group felt counter intuitive. As if the individual comes first, and not the ensemble. I would have cut exercises to give space for others to grow. And I would have been clear about what I was searching for. If you're searching for an individual who can be abstract, then let them know. If you want a literal representation--that's important to create with in mind. If you just want to see who improvises well, explain how that informs the process of the show.

To be fair, I can't know for certain exactly what they were searching for in this audition. I've seen clips of the show and know the end result. However, the show could have been half cast and they were searching for a specific role, height, size, or attitude of attack in someone. Maybe they were casting the entire thing and looking at people who were similar to who filled the roles before. There's no way to know, and it's pointless to speculate.

What I care about is how to create a space for devisers of varying degrees of experience to come together in a short amount of time and show their best selves. Unlike in a regular theatre audition, we didn't get to prepare something ahead of time, and we had to audition one after the other seeing when someone else was taking an idea of ours before we had the chance to implement it. There was a different level of trying to stand out, and an anxiety of people searching for what to show of themselves. It was unclear if being incredibly physical was more important than being precise, or if being thorough was more important than being interesting. With so many questions in the room and no time to answer them, I learned that a room with that energy didn't give as much space for creativity, jeu (play), or risks.

And if there's no risk, there's no reward.

Looking back on it, I didn't not enjoy myself. But I'm in a program where I audition every week a new idea I have. Sometimes every day. And I know by now the difference between when my creativity is being squashed and when it's being pushed.  I also know by now, that if you asked others at this audition they would disagree with me. That's the beauty of devising, I suppose. Everybody likes to do it differently. If you're lucky enough to find others who enjoy doing it the way you do, that's something special.

I think devising auditions don't happen very often, and because of that it's something without form. Even still--it needs to function. It needs to serve the purpose of seeing the best sides of your performers, by setting them up for success before they enter the room--and definitely when they're in it.

Grad School Year 2--Half Way Through

This first semester has flown by, and tomorrow is the beginning of second semester of my second year of graduate school. The second year began with Translations. Which was really about devising adaptations of films and novels, and 'translating' them to the stage. We worked on Melodramas, Commedia, Balinese masks, Bouffon, and Cabaret.

We cover so much so quickly in this program, and most of it will sound like nonsense if you aren't a theatre person or even if you are a theatre person but you live in America. Our school is grounded in the pedagogy of Jacque Lecoq who started a physical theatre school in France. Mask work, melodramas, and critical, mocking pieces of theatre are not the norm here in the west. These are usually labelled as traditional, old, and definitely not for a contemporary art audience. I think if I had seen mask work a few years ago, I might not have understood it. Now, it's one of my favorite things about this program.

Here is a brief summary of the semester:

We were partitioned off into small 'companies' or ensembles that we worked within for 10 weeks. We learned the inner workings of how to communicate effectively, attempted to agree on a universally accepted aesthetic, and tried our best to make work that we found exciting, bold, and new. I felt we were successful, but this is generally a tumultuous time. Outside of school most of us hope to form companies, and when doing this we'll choose the people we want to create with, who have a similar vision, but hopefully enough difference of opinion to never become complacent. Inside graduate school however, they choose companies for you and this can make it difficult when working with people who want different things or whom you don't function well with.

I had an overwhelmingly positive experience and learned a lot about myself as a creator, more about what I enjoy making aesthetically, and even more about how I like to work and function in a group. I also can't stress enough that this was finally the point in the program where we learned what it really was to make fully fledged shows. Putting an entire show together from just a nugget of an idea, and sometimes no blueprint at all is really an amazing process. I've learned that this is a form of theatre that I find exhilarating and important. Six months ago, I hadn't really done this yet. Crazy how time flies.

My company translated the film Baby Driver to the stage, as well as the novel Oryx and Crake. We created a melodrama that was loosely based on a real life woman who operated a lighthouse with her family in New England. We learned to write musical scores, and play foley (Which means creating real sound effects on stage with items that wouldn't normally create these real sounds. Think: how do you make it sound like waves are crashing on stage? What does a shipwreck sound like? The slosh of a boat on water. No computers allowed). We learned how to function as an outside eye (Which, after much debate, is different from the role of a traditional director, but that's another story), and play a mimeur (A body that creates space on stage, sets a scene, and can be the inner desires of a character).

We did a crash course in Commedia Del Arte masks and Balinese masks. And then we started a very long study (which we're still in the middle of) on the bouffon. The buffoon, in English. These characters mock everything and everyone. They can be ugly and grotesque but they always think they're beautiful. Their truth is beautiful. They know when they've gone too far, and they always apologize. But their goal is to make the audience understand how hypocritically they live their lives. It's a daring and dangerous form, and few can do it well. When you see a master at work, it's something to behold.

Cabaret wrapped up the semester. I created a character who left modern society to live on her own in the wilderness. I sang Survivor by Destiny's Child. It was something else.

I stretched. I grew. I failed. I don't fully understand all that I've learned. However, that is the beauty of my school. You learn it all, and then you choose what to gravitate towards.

We start taking a pedagogy course in our second year as well. This is really helpful because we continuously review what we're learning and learn to teach it. So, often, it's an opportunity to go back over something you might not have understood the first time. It's a time for exploration and innovation in how best to teach the work. This is a course we'll continue as we go through the program.

This second year focuses on performing. We'll be performing our bouffon pieces soon, then taking a showing of our favorite pieces to New York. We perform a clown show back in Philadelphia. The final show of the semester is called Dares. The faculty here will individually dare us, and we create our own shows surrounding these dares. We can be in them or we can direct them, but they'll be devised by us. Last year, the Dares showing was the best thing I'd seen in the city all year, not just at the school.

There's a lot to look forward to. I think it's easy in this program to get so wrapped up in the crazy that you can't take a step back and savor everything that's being learned. It's a whirlwind, and sometimes I wish it would slow down so I could catch my breath and remember more. But some things can't be changed, and the pace is part of how this program functions. I'm sure I'll be running around just as crazy as I was last semester starting tomorrow.

Wish me luck!