Having just recently completed my first year at University for acting I feel it a privilege to share with you tips and tricks of the acting trade.
1. Read. Lots.
I know it sounds very redundant but reading up on your industry or books on auditioning and perfecting your craft is basically key to acing an audition and getting the part. A book i recommend is Audition by Michael Shurtleff. He talks about 12 guide posts to help in a scene... additionally, there are updated versions that will tell you this, but there are an additional 2 guideposts Vulnerability and another one that has slipped my mind but I will research for you.
Also read things and study in classes that aren't related to acting when you get the chance. A good philosophy/neurology course can help with figuring out the mind, one of an actor's number one place where ideas come from.
Also read plays and screenplays. When you learn about character arcs and story arcs and the like, you can start to look for those. Also you may need to find monologues for whatever classes or auditions you've done or or are going to do.
2. Audition. Lots.
You won't know what to work on unless you try and audition for shows. Any show, whether its variety, repertoire, musicals, etc. experience in auditioning is no harm... getting the part is the best thing in the entire world.
The thing you have to work on is being professional yet friendly, but not too friendly. And don't be afraid to talk about yourself. What makes you unique? What are your hobbies? What are you passionate about? An auditioner/producer/casting agent/director wants to see you at your best, so talk about things that turn you on, respectively.
3. Go see shows.
Be critical. Sure enjoy the show, but think of things that will make the play/musical/movie better. What could you have contributed if you were in it? Have fun while you see. Look at the positives as well. What made a particular scene funny? Were there things that someone said/did that made that moment funny? What were some good moments? Also, most likely, there's a meet and greet after the show, talk to those actors, tell them they were fantastic and talk. Not only is that beneficial, it's also very fun.
4. Take classes.
Not so much theatre classes, but other things. Actors today as well as way back to the 1920's and 1930's had to be "triple threats". Acting. Dancing. Singing. Taking classes in dance (tap, ballet, contemporary, etc.) and singing lessons or vocal classes or even private musical theatre instructions at your school or town or city is a good idea. If a family or friend is a music teacher use them to your advantage. Just remember, always say please and expect a bargain of some
kind. You can't get something for nothing nowadays. While your at it, learn to play piano or an instrument.
5. Try things.
Try writing a screenplay or play. If it helps, collaborate with your friends to make a show. Don't worry about rules. What I've learned is that there are no wrong or right ways or limits unless you set some. Don't! You'll stifle your creativity! Start with an idea or a theme and build off of it. Don't forget to have fun, that's number one! and don't worry about budgets, cross that bridge when you get there.
6. Blog or create websites
Self-promotion never hurt anyone. In life you're not going to be waiting by the phone for a call, especially if you're unknown. And don't start with an agent right off, let them discover you or contact them to come to a show that you're in or something like that.
And that's it for now! Until next time!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
A Funny Thing Happened...
A funny thing happened on my way to the grocery store.
Aside from me running to the corner to push the button that makes the walk sign appear and having to wait two lights just to cross, but I also missed it.
In the end it wasn't quite that bad of an ordeal and I was actually quite angry, until suddenly, somewhere between the cookie aisle and the meat aisle I burst out laughing.
Things could be worse, I thought.
They were. I had to buy the meat without the cookies. A queen shouldn't be deprived of her cookies.
Aside from me running to the corner to push the button that makes the walk sign appear and having to wait two lights just to cross, but I also missed it.
In the end it wasn't quite that bad of an ordeal and I was actually quite angry, until suddenly, somewhere between the cookie aisle and the meat aisle I burst out laughing.
Things could be worse, I thought.
They were. I had to buy the meat without the cookies. A queen shouldn't be deprived of her cookies.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Klutz
Growing up, I was a complete and utter klutz. It could be the blond hair stereotype, but I was completely 100% kultzy.
When I mean klutzy, I mean walk into posts and stop signs klutzy. Really!
I can remember when my mom told me about the time I was a little little kid, a toddler, and I would be dropped off at a daycare/kiddi-robics thing or something like that. When she'd come to pick me up one day, the organizer came up to her. She looked like she was in trouble as she came up to my mother, because she's a force to be reckoned with, as am I!!!
"Excuse me," she said, "Are you Dan's mother?"
"Yes," my mother replies.
"Well," the instructor says reluctantly. "He's run into a pole this afternoon..."
The funny thing is that this pole that she mentioned was the only singular pole in the middle of the room. I would hit it... everytime!
Another funny story is back from when we used to live with my grandparents on my father's side of the family. One evening after dinner we were playing catch. My aunt long bombs and I have to move backwards to keep an eye on it and catch it. I back up farther and farther and farther and then... BAM! i double over holding my head in pain and crying my eyes out. I look behind me and a stop sign wobbles. That's right, I've ran into a stop sign. The only reason I was crying was probably because of how embarrassed I was.
The funnier thing is that I still have the goose egg on the back of my head to prove it. I have a million and one bumps on my head to prove any and every fall, scrape, tumble, crash, bang, bruise, and scar that I've gotten from growing up. I guess my klutziness is probably what makes me unique...
Although, I wish it didn't hurt so much!
When I mean klutzy, I mean walk into posts and stop signs klutzy. Really!
I can remember when my mom told me about the time I was a little little kid, a toddler, and I would be dropped off at a daycare/kiddi-robics thing or something like that. When she'd come to pick me up one day, the organizer came up to her. She looked like she was in trouble as she came up to my mother, because she's a force to be reckoned with, as am I!!!
"Excuse me," she said, "Are you Dan's mother?"
"Yes," my mother replies.
"Well," the instructor says reluctantly. "He's run into a pole this afternoon..."
The funny thing is that this pole that she mentioned was the only singular pole in the middle of the room. I would hit it... everytime!
Another funny story is back from when we used to live with my grandparents on my father's side of the family. One evening after dinner we were playing catch. My aunt long bombs and I have to move backwards to keep an eye on it and catch it. I back up farther and farther and farther and then... BAM! i double over holding my head in pain and crying my eyes out. I look behind me and a stop sign wobbles. That's right, I've ran into a stop sign. The only reason I was crying was probably because of how embarrassed I was.
The funnier thing is that I still have the goose egg on the back of my head to prove it. I have a million and one bumps on my head to prove any and every fall, scrape, tumble, crash, bang, bruise, and scar that I've gotten from growing up. I guess my klutziness is probably what makes me unique...
Although, I wish it didn't hurt so much!
Intro
The number one question you're probably asking yourself, is why I created this. Maybe I want people to feel sorry for me. Maybe I want you to be inspired. Maybe I want someone to read this and think, 'Jeez, that sucks, at least I'm not them!' Maybe, it's just because, I want to? I think that's it. Anyway, whatever the reason, these are my confessions I want to share with everyone. Maybe you'll learn something; I don't think either of us are expecting much.
I guess since this is an introduction I should introduce myself... and maybe my blog.
I'm Danni. Nice to meet you!
I'm a pretty normal, your average blond blue eyed 19 year old university theatre majoring student. Or a pretty normal SINGLE average blond blue eyed 19 year old university theatre majoring student... who takes transit.
I have been living in Vancouver for almost a year after 19 years of seclusion from something called the "world". It's a really cool thing, I think everyone should see it at least once in their lives. This "world" is one of the most amazing things for a singleton/small-towner/out-of-towner/country bumkin to see. It's indescribable. You think you know everything there is to know about the "world" and yet you come face to face and you're struck dumb like a deer in the headlights of a fast moving frieght train with a drunk engineer on a bender.
All fantasy Bambi suicides aside, my blog is a blog of confessions. What is a confession, you ask? Well...
Confession. Definition:
1. Acknowledgment; avowal; admission.
2. A formal, usually written, acknowledgment of guilt by a person accused of a crime.
3. Something that is confessed.
In the case of my confessions, they border along 1 and 3. It's only ever 2 if I've done something like hold up a bank, protest downtown transit by lying down in front of a bus, or skinny dipping in the day time. All of the above are last things on a list of things I would EVER do.
I guess, the first confession I'd like to make is... I'm gay... Keep in mind, if I wasn't, this wouldn't have been called Confessions of a Drag Queen... it'd probably be called Confession of a Lumberjack... or Confessions of a Republican or White Anglo-Saxon Protestant or Straight White Blonde Boy Who Can't Get Laid.... and that's not the case with me (wink, wink).
My second confession is that I'm a drag qeen... again, see above for other title options if i wasn't a drag queen. I may not be a proffessional onstage but I could be. I guess I choose to be some kind of hostess or someone who is the life of the party. My father never understood why I'd have to dress up to have fun. Then again a majority of men don't understand at all.
In all honesty ,this is a place where I can vent. You can listen or just go to Youtube or whatever you do when you want to block out other people's crap, but there's nothing here that isn't from my heart. I think if we all made an effort to tell the truth, maybe not about others, but about ourselves, maybe we can learn to cope with things we couldn't deal with in the first place. Maybe. For now, it's another story for another time. Until next time!
I guess since this is an introduction I should introduce myself... and maybe my blog.
I'm Danni. Nice to meet you!
I'm a pretty normal, your average blond blue eyed 19 year old university theatre majoring student. Or a pretty normal SINGLE average blond blue eyed 19 year old university theatre majoring student... who takes transit.
I have been living in Vancouver for almost a year after 19 years of seclusion from something called the "world". It's a really cool thing, I think everyone should see it at least once in their lives. This "world" is one of the most amazing things for a singleton/small-towner/out-of-towner/country bumkin to see. It's indescribable. You think you know everything there is to know about the "world" and yet you come face to face and you're struck dumb like a deer in the headlights of a fast moving frieght train with a drunk engineer on a bender.
All fantasy Bambi suicides aside, my blog is a blog of confessions. What is a confession, you ask? Well...
Confession. Definition:
1. Acknowledgment; avowal; admission.
2. A formal, usually written, acknowledgment of guilt by a person accused of a crime.
3. Something that is confessed.
In the case of my confessions, they border along 1 and 3. It's only ever 2 if I've done something like hold up a bank, protest downtown transit by lying down in front of a bus, or skinny dipping in the day time. All of the above are last things on a list of things I would EVER do.
I guess, the first confession I'd like to make is... I'm gay... Keep in mind, if I wasn't, this wouldn't have been called Confessions of a Drag Queen... it'd probably be called Confession of a Lumberjack... or Confessions of a Republican or White Anglo-Saxon Protestant or Straight White Blonde Boy Who Can't Get Laid.... and that's not the case with me (wink, wink).
My second confession is that I'm a drag qeen... again, see above for other title options if i wasn't a drag queen. I may not be a proffessional onstage but I could be. I guess I choose to be some kind of hostess or someone who is the life of the party. My father never understood why I'd have to dress up to have fun. Then again a majority of men don't understand at all.
In all honesty ,this is a place where I can vent. You can listen or just go to Youtube or whatever you do when you want to block out other people's crap, but there's nothing here that isn't from my heart. I think if we all made an effort to tell the truth, maybe not about others, but about ourselves, maybe we can learn to cope with things we couldn't deal with in the first place. Maybe. For now, it's another story for another time. Until next time!
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