On Auditions, Priorities, and Being 3 Months from Adulthood

I've been friends with adults/people 20-50 years my senior since I was a small child.  I was always the girl who was friends with her teachers rather than her classmates, friends with her "friends'" parents rather than the actual kids themselves.  I don't really know why this is.  People say I'm an old soul--and I guess that's true (whatever that means.)  My soul age is probably about 55.  It hasn't really aged too much since I was a munchkin, though.  The scary thing about my makeup is that I have the boundless energy of a 5 year old, the optimism and ambition of a 21 year old, and the occasional wariness/cynicism of a 55 year old.  It's a curious composition and I don't know that it always serves me beneficially.

At any rate, I have a pool of people who serve as my chosen family.  (Have to preface this by saying that I adore my birth family--but I'm now referring more to my theatrical family/best older friends.)  I sometimes generalize and just call them the "mamas."  (Although some of them have fits when I refer to them that way--one even insists that I call her Auntie Mame.)  Regardless, I love these women.  Yesterday, I had the opportunity to grab coffee with one of these women.  Now, I don't know if she's entered the mama/cool aunt territory, but she definitely serves as a Yoda-esque-been-there-done-that figure.  She's infinitely snarky and wise and has had about half of the various careers that interest me.  (I'll die before I reach 1/3 of the occupations I'm interested in.)  We had a glorious 90 minute gab-session regarding life/theatre/things we both want to achieve and it was totally liberating.  Not only is it always helpful to have someone older tell you that you're not insane and should pursue everything, but it's also nice to have a living breathing role model of sorts sitting in front of you.  And somehow, I seemed to have provided a small inspiration of sorts for her.  She compared being with me for 90 minutes to "plugging into a power grid" and said it was refreshing to see someone so excited about things.  It was nice.  I think I need to schedule check-ins with my various mamas/Yodas/aunts to help garner perspective on life every couple of weeks or so.  Or at least every month.

Lyric Stage--oh, beautiful Lyric Stage--announced their magical 2011-2012 season, and y'all, I nearly peed my pants over it.  They're doing Gypsy, Rags, Kismet, and Oklahoma.  Sounds like heaven, right?  And get this: they're ALL in Carpenter hall.  They're ALL with a full orchestra. (Cue Katharine passing out.)  I was expressing how remarkable the season was to my middle school musical theatre class yesterday, and the girls promptly called me a freak for being so enthused.  It's probably warranted.  I don't know anyone else who gets so giddy excited about musicals STILL after encountering oodles of theatrical folk for the past couple of years.  Then again, I don't know anyone quite as enamored with Lyric as I am, so there ya go.  Most 21 year olds want to do Rent and Next to Normal.  I salivate over Gypsy and Oklahoma.  It's just how it goes.

This leads me to..........auditions. Oh, auditions: you wretched, fickle foe.  I hate them.  I hate that months of prep work can be squandered by a cold or a brain fart over 60 seconds in a very cold rehearsal hall.  I hate that you have months to get excited about prepping for a show, and after those 60 seconds all that excitement can be obliterated.  I hate not knowing if you'd ever be considered for a certain role.  I hate not knowing exactly how a director feels about you.  Unfortunately, there's no show without an audition, and there's no Katharine without shows.  Herein lies the problem.

I've been a chorus girl for as long as I've done theatre.  Well....sort of.  I've never had consecutive voice lessons, I've had two semesters of questionable acting training from school, and I technically quit dance training in high school.  And yet--somehow--I've found myself in the musical theatre business.  Anyone who knows me knows that I've been a huge musical theatre nerd since birth; that's undeniable.  However, it didn't even occur to me that I could maybe do it until 2 years ago and suddenly I felt completely behind.  I was auditioning with people who'd done pageants for years, and taken all kinds of lessons for years, and gone through ten rounds of Camp Broadway or Camp We've Got Talent or Theatre School or Musical School or who knows what and I felt completely outleagued.  Somehow...the nerdiness elevated me to a place where I could somehow sort-of compete with these people.  I was such a freak for so many years watching and rewatching the Rodgers and Hammerstein shows/Lerner and Loewe movies/and every high school musical put on in the metroplex that whatever knowledge I gained by watching others somehow infiltrated into me.  I'm hugely grateful.  (This is why I am so passionate about teaching.)

Anyway, breaking out of the chorus is something I have incredibly mixed feelings about.  On one hand, I'm growing increasingly attracted to roles (and specifically arcs of characters.)  I'm growing more confident with my singing (bit by bit...and gosh darnit if I don't start taking lessons soon...)  I haven't stepped out much (I've only had a couple of roles--and they're mostly the glorified chorus girl/secondary dance-y couple roles) but I've really enjoyed it so far.  That said, there are shows where I may be right for a role but would still HAPPILY (perhaps even more happily) be in the ensemble.  If there's spectacular dancing, you bet your bottom dollar I'd rather dance captain than be the star.  Still, I have this silly burning desire to push my limits and see what I can do.  Now that I've learned that I'm a decent enough dancer to make it into professional ensembles, I want to move forward.  This is terrifying. And exciting.  The worst part is putting myself out there and prepping for roles that may be completely out of reach and not at all what the director/producer/choreographer are looking for.  I guess it can't hurt anything (besides my pride/ego/self-esteem) to just prep and learn everything about a character in a show.  In fact, regardless of result, it would probably be a wonderful learning experience in a myriad of ways. So do I prep for roles that may be out of my league?  What would you do?

Can you tell my brain is going a million miles a minute?

(SUBTEXT: I GRADUATE IN 3 MONTHS WITH A BFA IN THEATRE WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY LIFE?)

I want to do everything.  I want to choreograph, teach, music direct, play keyboard in the pit, star, support, feature, dance captain, direct, write, blog, paint, produce, cook, live inside a theatre.  I don't know how to do this sustainably.  I don't even know that I can do this.  I just know that I want to.  Badly.

Plugging into a power grid, indeed.

Enough crazy-Katharine-thoughts.  Here's what's happened:
1. I graduate in 3 months.  I keep getting emails about caps and gowns.  I'm not going to graduation.  But I'm still graduating.  Instead, I'll be in a performance of Cabaret at Dallas Theater Center.  That's totally more appealing anyway.
2. I'm currently in performance of Flora, the Red Menace at Lyric Stage. (Oh, Lyric Stage)  It's a wonderful experience.  It's an ensemble of 9 actors and we all work our butts off (I don't get any sitting/dressing room time and I play 4 characters) and it's oodles of fun.  It's a great theatrical workout.  It's fantastic to have a role. Fantastic and scary and fine.
3. I'm giddy over next season.
4.  I want to do theatre all over the country.  I missed the application deadline for SETC (big general auditions.)  Help.
5. I want to get out, but I'm not interested in waitressing in New York and becoming jaded and disenchanted by a theatrical lifestyle at 21.
6. I just want to work.
7. I can't wait for Cabaret.
8.  I have senioritis: College Edition.
9.  Stan Wojewodski, Jr. has revolutionized my SMU experience for the better.  My sentiments about the program have improved 200% this year.  I am so grateful for this I could cry.
10. I have discovered I'm enamored of cooking.  And painting.  Although that news is not as new.
11. I haven't slept in 2 days.
12. I'm a frustrated artist.
13.  I'm an artist largely in love with my artistic life.
14. I'm just terrified of the future.

And how are you today?

Love Actually is All Around

You know what I've learned this Valentine's Day?

That I've been stupid and cynical all along.
That love is actually better than they portray it in the movies.
That bickering happens, but if you have someone you communicate well with and respect enough to sort it out, the result improves your relationship.
That a very messy and fly-by-the-moment girl can fall in love with a regimented, responsible boy.
That life is better with company.
That contrasting expectations are natural.
That plans will conflict.
That that's okay.
That if God takes away a certain amount of daily love you receive from someone, he'll give you an opportunity to replenish it in a new way.
That a terrible day can easily be turned wonderful if you have someone wonderful.
That even Katharine Gentsch (dos) can be a huge sap.

One year ago today, I was at my grandmother's graveside.  It was one of the saddest times I've ever had.  I wasn't having such a hot Valentine's day 2011 either, but this time around I had a smart, handsome man to cheer me.  I feel imminently better, just by virtue of the fact that someone cares enough to have an interest in cheering me.  I lost love in February 2010, but I found it there, too.  (Bobby unknowingly first asked me on a date the day grandmama passed away.)  Life goes on, love goes on.  And, as aptly written by Richard Curtis and said by Hugh Grant, "Love actually is all around."

Happy Valentine's Day, dears.  Hope it's as kind to you as it has been to me.

Gypsy and Queen Mum

Spending a great deal of time analyzing people who were born into/married a celebrity/performative status and initially didn't want it but then grew not only to accept it, but also to love it.

It fascinates me.

Thoughts?