North Carolina, Part One: Flat Rock to Blowing Rock to High Point

Woke up and put finishing touches on yesterday’s entry, which I’d fallen asleep writing. Alison White (also known as Pinata Head due to the brilliant things that fall out of her mouth which my other friend Susan Ferrara has threatened to retrieve in a much less organic fashion) returned my phone call late yesterday (she’s pursuing La Vie Boheme out in Los Angeles) and did me the favor of checking my email since I was bereft of the Inter-trons. Thanks to her I found out that I did indeed have both of my auditions today (I had been awaiting confirmation from Blowing Rock Stage Company and there it was).

Played the cello in my room briefly this morning, but had just made the decision that it would be better to go out for a walk around the lake in the brisk mountain air when I realized I somehow had very little time for cello or lake and jumped in the shower to get ready for my next audition.

Flat Rock Playhouse (the State Theatre of North Carolina, dontcha know) is in reality more than just the playhouse itself – the theatre company comprises a small assortment of buildings located near the historic flat rock from which the town gets its name. I didn’t actually see the rock. I am realizing as I meander my way through these here United States that my trip is allowing for very little in the way of sightseeing. I am a man with a mission.

When I arrived my auditor-to-be, Artistic Associate Paige Posey (throughout our interactions I had to actively resist the urge to call her Parker Posey), was nowhere to be found. “She might be on lunch,” I was told, but was assured that she would be back to meet with me. I was shown into the children’s theatre to wait and “warm up.” Without hesitation I grabbed a chair, set myself up stage centre and began to play Homer, as has become my standard practice in such situations. Partway through the Prelude to the first Bach Suite, Paige arrived, followed by Chris, another Artistic Associate. After exchanging a few pleasantries during which they played Six Degrees of Separation with my resume, I did the Doris monologue and they seemed to enjoy it but were about to end the audition when I asked if I could do one more piece. I launched into Touchstone and they seemed to like that, too. It all just felt a little off…like they didn’t completely get me but were amused nonetheless. Afterwards they asked me about my travels and seemed genuinely impressed by the Audyssey. When I mentioned going to Blowing Rock, Chris said he heard they might have some snow up that way tonight, but figured I'd be fine since I wasn't staying in that area. We parted ways with smiles and I was on my way up into the Blue Ridge Mountains.

It was around this point that a new trend started – I began to get a little cavalier with the directions I’d printed up from Google Maps. I stayed on the highway a little longer than they suggested and then took a more scenic route up into the mountains for the last twenty miles or so to Blowing Rock. It was great fun to rely on my own sense of direction and a little on chance but still to feel confident enough that I would get there in time and not get lost.

Route 221 in northwestern North Carolina is a long meandering road running through some low-lying farmland where cattle graze, rising up around Grandfather Mountain, past the Eastern continental divide and eventually on through Blowing Rock. Down at the bottom of this route, the sun was shining and the drive was pleasant. As I began my ascent, I started to see the first few signs of snow, tiny flakes wafting through the sunlit air. A few miles further and little wisps of snow were swirling here and there across the road. The higher I went on the mountain, the worse the storm seemed to get. Old Grandfather Mountain was a cantankerous curmudgeon today, my friends (as George on "Seinfeld" said once, angrier than an old man in a deli trying to send back soup). The sky went from clear to white to grey to black very quickly and I found myself alone on an already treacherous road made even moreso by the wind and the snow. Huge chasms opened beside me which would, I was sure, reveal stunning vistas on a less inclement day. Today nothing was visible save an impenetrable wall of white. Several times I skidded precariously, in spite of my creeping slow pace, and was worried I would go careening over the edge of the road out into that eerie white that persisted just beyond the ledge. But Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, trusty steed, did not falter and carried me safely on past grumpy old Grandfather and into the little burg of Blowing Rock, where the snow mercifully subsided. And even with the added tension of the snowstorm, the drive was still beautiful and well worth the risk.

The Blowing Rock Stage Company is housed in a brand new performing arts center that just opened in August. I was about an hour early for my audition, but Kim Kay, director of the Children’s program and wife of Artistic Director Kenneth Kay, greeted me warmly and gave me a tour of their new digs while we awaited Ken, who had been alerted to my presence. The theatre is beautiful and spacious and the building seems to have been planned with much intelligence. They are beaming with pride at all of this, and with good reason. It is a gem on the mountain’s peak.

Ken arrived and we got down to business. We chatted for a while and he seemed very personable and happy to see me. I performed Doris’ monologue for him and then again had to ask to do the Touchstone, since Ken seemed ready to cut the audition off after the one piece. Once again I felt that he enjoyed what I did, but wasn’t sure he really “got” me. Ah, well.

By this time I was extremely tired. But the day was not done. I did a quick costume change in the car, a skill at which I am becoming quite adept, out of Audition Costume Number One and into Driving Outfit. Then: bang, bang Maxwell’s Silver Hammer came down upon the road, and I was off to High Point.

Heading down off the mountain was a breeze compared to the tense ride up, and I was afforded some of the incredible views I am sure I missed earlier: the whole mountain range painted with hues of purple gold orange red pink as the sun set.

The drive past Winston-Salem was a piece of cake…then I got a bit turned around trying to find the correct exit for downtown High Point, since I was trying to do a drive-by of the theatre for tomorrow morning’s audition before finding a place to sleep. At length I was able to find my way, located the theatre and managed to get a cheapo place to stay nearby (with wireless Internet, no less). I had dinner at a cute little no frills diner (with very yummy food) called Alex’s House. And now I’m back in the room finishing up this entry.

One last little bit of good news was revealed when I just checked my email: I booked another audition for next week! Yesterday I emailed the Mill Mountain Theatre in Roanoke, Virginia, thinking I could stop in and see them on the way to visiting my friend Mary Lucy Bivins at the Barter Theatre. This would help fill in next week since the DC theatres seem to be generally reticent to schedule anything, and until tonight I only had two auditions confirmed. Now there are three, which is a respectable amount, and which brings the current Grand Audition Total to a whopping 18. I’m hoping to pick up two more to make it an even 20, so we’ll see.

I will play the cello for a little bit and then crash since tomorrow, booked solid with three auditions in three different cities, promises to be a crazy day.