Thats Show Biz — What Now NYC

When I moved to New York City I wasn’t quite aware of how grueling the auditioning process would be…and expensive. Each month I would spend thousands of dollars on voice lessons, acting classes, dance classes, vocal coaching sessions, theater tickets for research, and that was aside from paying my overpriced rent and all the other expenses that come with living in one of the most expensive cities in the world. It also consumed my days. I would get out of work late and wake up around 5/6am for auditions, often times waiting out in the freezing cold until the doors opened, not even certain I would even be seen that day. Inside were hundreds of girls chatting, warming up, curling their hair, trying on outfits, gossiping. It was like musical theater overload. One by one we would be called in to sing. This could take anywhere from an hour to all day depending on where I was on the sign up sheet. If I had to go to work I might have to just leave after hours of already waiting and never even know if my name was ever called, an entire day wasted. If I did have the good fortune of being seen in time I might be called back to dance, or read lines, or sing again in which case I would have to call my job and beg the morning shift to stay later or sometimes just call out of a shift entirely. That’s the thing about these auditions; you just never know if, or when you would ever be seen, or if the audition will last 2 minutes, 2 hours or 2 days. I remember always feeling frustrated that casting directors never seemed to care that people had to work, that we needed to make money to live in this expensive city and continue to follow our dreams. If we didn’t drop everything and completely rearrange our whole life to do whatever they asked of us, we were basically telling them we didn’t care, and we didn’t want it badly enough. Oh but I did care! I just couldn’t afford to lose my job! Looking at it from their side though I totally get it. Casting directors are busy, and they have thousands of other people just as, if not more talented dying for a chance to be seen. To them I was just one of thousands. If you want it badly enough you WILL risk your job to wait around for hours not knowing what will come next, and you WILL re-arrange your entire schedule because if you don’t? If you don’t, there will be hundreds of other girls right behind you who will. Once you are able to secure an agent (and this alone can take years) the auditions are less time consuming, but the process is still exhausting and the competition still overwhelming. The times I cried after auditions because my voice cracked, or because they didn’t call me back to dance or didn’t say anything after I read my lines (which in my head meant I must have been terrible), are far too many to count. This industry picks you apart, and it makes you start to pick yourself apart. If you don’t stay very strong it can eventually convince you that you are worthless. When I finally moved on from show business it was because I was tired of crying, tired of tearing myself apart and going broke while doing it. This never happened in Alaska. This was supposed to be fun not heart-wrenching right? Wrong…in this city the most talented ones that also work the hardest and persevere are the ones that make it, it’s just a matter of time and you never know when that time will come.

Silly Girls! “Beauty & The Beast” at JWT 2005

It is also very much about timing and luck. I remember auditioning for the show “Once” several times, from the initial reading until it eventually made it to Broadway. The exciting part about “Once” that gave me a real shot was that the actors were also the musicians and there was even a cellist. Unfortunately for me the cellist was written as a male role. That didn’t keep me from auditioning, but every time I went in and played my cello it was the same, “you sound great Eugenia, but we don’t need a female cellist, can you play the violin or piano?” I tried so hard. I asked my sister if I could borrow her violin. I took lessons and practiced every day and at the same time practiced on the piano. I got to a convincingly decent level on the piano and a somewhat convincing level of the violin and continued to go back in to audition. I think they really did like me, but nothing came from it. The show was perfect for me, but the instrument just wasn't the right one. Had I studied piano instead of cello, or violin instead of cello maybe I would have made it to Broadway with that show, but I was a female cellist and they didn’t need me. There was a time before that even when I was working in Japan that the show “Sweeney Todd” made a return to Broadway. In this show, the female was written as the cellist but of course I was half a world away when auditions were held. When I came back to New York I went in to audition for another role they were replacing. I figured at least they would hear me play and perhaps something might come from it. After I finished playing my cello, the casting director commented, “where were you when we were first casting this show?” Well…. where was I? I was painting myself Green singing outside in a production of “Wicked” at Universal Studios in Osaka, Japan. I wasn’t here in New York waiting for that small chance that someone would decide to revive “Sweeney Todd” on Broadway and need a female cellist for the role of Johanna! Again, timing was off and it wasn’t meant to be. I’m not saying I would have booked these shows, I am showing an example of how everything has to just work out perfectly for you to be in the right place at the right time to even have a chance.

Sometimes I think that I should have kept going, I should have stuck it out and never “given up,” but is moving on, giving up? Did I fail myself, and everyone who believed in me? I know it sounds dramatic, but these were the feelings I dealt with for a very long time after leaving the industry and ones I still occasionally deal with to this day. Here’s the thing though…I like having money in the bank, a steady job to go to, a 401K, and health insurance. I like the feeling that comes with stability. Some people are much better at struggling than others and that’s fine, we don’t all have to be broke our entire lives for the sake of our art. Maybe some of us just need to find a steady income and get grounded and back on our feet and THEN try again, in whatever capacity our lives have evolved into at that point.

After theater, I struggled with what to do next. What would be my passion now? What would be the reason for me to get out of bed and face each day? For 30 years music, dance and theater were my whole identity. I was a musical kid from a musical family, voted “Tremendously Talented” in my senior class of high school. I was good, I was quite good actually, but “quite” good won’t cut it in New York City; you have to not only be incredibly talented in so many facets, but also be good at marketing yourself, networking, and have good business sense (I learned these skills later).

I’m happy to say that all those crazy auditions did often work out for me. I ended up working in theater for many solid years after moving to New York. I had the experience of Summer Stock Theater in a great little town, Prestonsburg, Kentucky. I lived in Japan singing a role I admired, worked on a cruise ship and a national tour. I travelled the world from Thailand to Australia, Canada to California, Norway to Montenegro. I had incredible experiences and made the most amazing friends that I still adore and cherish to this day. If I could offer one piece of advice to anyone trying to make it in musical theater now in New York City it would be this, If you can’t imagine yourself in any other industry then find a way to keep going. So much of the auditioning process isn’t actually as personal as we think it is. We can go in and have a killer audition and never even get a callback, but you have no way of knowing what is going through the minds that sit on the other side of the table. Maybe they want a blonde instead of a brunette, maybe they love you but you’re too short or too tall for the man that they love even more and just decided to cast. There is no way of knowing exactly what they are thinking. You might never get the answers and you have to be OK with that and learn how to move on without beating yourself down inside.

Playing a young Eva Peron on the “Evita” Tour, 2008

This is what auditioning in New York City taught me; there is no easy way around the struggle, you have to learn what works for you and how to have a very tough skin in order to survive the rejection. Your successes are behind you faster than you can move onto the next one and the only way to make it is to search deep inside of your soul and find the reason to keep going and to not quit. The lows are low, but the highs are amazing and so worth it. The day you walk out onto a stage in front of an audience of thousands and sing a lead role, or get the call that you have been offered a job on the other side of the world, which is both scary and exhilarating, is what all those long hours and dollars spent are for. This is show biz…. and I can honestly say having stepped away for almost a decade now and looking back, it was worth every insecure, doubtful, scary moment. I have done a lot of soul searching in this past decade. I have pondered new careers, new goals. I have asked myself countless times, what would make me happy? Being married? Having a family? Having a successful career? Yes, I want all of those things…but I never want to lose the passion that I learned when I was a struggling artist. I never want to lose the drive that makes me wake up every morning feeling I have a purpose. I go through my days trying to be a stronger and better person than I was the day before, trying to do more, be more all while staying true to myself and happy. I don’t think this is ever a journey that ends. I don’t think you ever arrive at your final destination of happiness and contentment; it is a constant journey of evolving and growing. The destination is finally finding self-love and accepting that life is never stagnant and always changing. I am so proud to say that the person I am now after all these years is even more resilient than that confidant 23 year old that first came to New York City 15 years ago.

I remember talking to a very dear childhood friend of mine shortly after moving on from theater about feelings of failure. I said to him “I feel like I have failed at everything I have done.” His response….”Really? I feel like you have succeeded at everything you have tried.” I will never forget those words, it made me realize how warped my perception of myself really was verses how other people saw me. The failure is not in trying and then moving on, the failure is when you stop trying all together. It is during these times of struggle when the most growth happens and we truly find ourselves. This is what I learned most from Show Biz.