Moments in the Woods: Norfolk, VA to Washington, DC

Tuesday January 30

The day began well.

I got up at a decent hour, and as I was getting the car ready for the trip, I got a call from Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, who said that they were going to try to squeeze me in to be seen while I was in town, but that it wasn’t looking good. Still, I was excited to have gotten a response from them and emailed them my headshot and resume as requested. Again. That made three times I’d sent my calling card this month.

I finished packing everything back into Maxwell’s Silver Hammer and bid farewell to Norfolk.

I was just past Colonial Williamsburg when the phone rang. It was the NY casting director for Triad Stage in Greensboro, NC, calling to invite me in to audition for Triad’s next show in NYC next week. Thrilled to have such immediate, concrete results from one of last week’s auditions, I confirmed a time with her.

I hung up with the casting folk and had just finished scribbling the date and time on a little piece of paper when I realized I hadn’t really been paying attention to my speed. As I started to slow down (damn that lead foot of mine!), I looked up and saw that I was passing a police speed trap. And so, speeding ticket number two was bestowed upon me. Now, bitches, I will admit that I fully deserved the first ticket – I was flagrantly and actively speeding. But this one really burned my ass because the whole day to that point I had really been careful about my speed, keeping up with traffic but not racing by any standards. Ah, well.

The rest of the drive to Washington went smoothly, but I was feeling less than Salty when I arrived.

After a quick snack at a nearby Panera, where I eagerly checked my email, searching in vain for news of any possible additional DC area auditions, I changed into my audition costume in their restroom (it’s SuperActor, able to spout Shakespearean verse in a single breath!). I then made the short jaunt over to the Signature Theatre, which is located in a brand spanking new complex in a brand spanking new, posh-looking area of Arlington, VA.

I had a short wait (no Homer time) and eventually was shown into the office of Artistic Director Eric Schaeffer. Eric and I had a common thread, which I pulled on to get some time with him. Eric has had a close collaborative relationship with Cameron Mackintosh over the years. I worked in Cameron’s office for two years about a million years ago. During the time I was there, Cameron was involved in two shows with Eric. I had no illusions that Eric would remember me, as I was merely a lowly office whipping boy at the time…and to be honest I didn’t remember him either.

But there we sat in his office, each of us grasping at that pitiful common thread until I feared it would fray. Why, I kept wondering, are we still sitting here making small talk? Why isn’t he asking me to do my monologues? Fortunately we had enough people and experiences in common and Eric and I are each personable enough that the conversation never got completely awkward, but I felt incredibly uncomfortable because it slowly became clear to me that somehow wires had gotten crossed and he did not intend to audition me. Through no fault of my own (I had been very clear about my intentions from the first), I felt, as Pinata Head Alison so accurately described it later, as though I had shown up to work with no pants on.

A few more uncomfortable minutes of banter later, Eric took me on a full tour of the new theatre complex. It was truly impressive, with two theatres and ample backstage areas, along with technical shops and rehearsal studios and a heckuva lot of steel ducts. Eric’s excitement with the space mollified any lingering awkwardness. Back in his office, I mentioned that I was definitely interested in working there and offered to do a monologue for him. He said I should come in when they have their general season auditions in DC in April. Rebuffed.

Our meeting ended and I went back to the car, frustrated and feeling foolish, determined to leave there and never come back, find the hotel I was to share with my aunt Jackie and hole up for the night eating copious amounts of comfort food. However, a long conference call conversation with the Triplets ensued as I sat there in the parking lot. As was so often the case with the three of us, we all seemed to be having similar or complementary life circumstances and each of us benefited from the venting and the others’ input. It was an alchemical conversation. After this, emboldened by my Trips, I marched back to the theatre and bought a ticket for that evening’s performance of INTO THE WOODS, directed by Eric.

Ascending the stairs to the lobby, I found Eric poised as greeter at the top, schmoozing with patrons (their new production of CRAVE by Sarah Kane was having its first preview that night in their smaller space). He caught my eye and we shared a brief recall of an inside joke about testy patrons from our earlier conversation. We laughed; I moved on – literally and figuratively.

The show was OK, though the PBS broadcast of the original Broadway production was so fundamental to the development of my young Artist that any unsuspecting WOODS I encounter seems to be doomed from the start. But I did find it appropriate to be seeing this particular show during the course of my journey. The scene in the second act between the Baker and his father’s spirit snuck up on me and I wept a bit thinking about Dad.

Afterwards, I began the trip to Bethesda to set up camp with my aunt, Jackie Palac, who was in Washington on business and whose dates seemed magically to have coincided with my own. A small crest in the highway revealed a stunning view of nighttime Washington, monuments aglitter – a dazzling period to a strange day of wandering in the woods.