North Carolina, Part Two: High Point to Greensboro to Chapel Hill to Raleigh

Friday January 26

Woke up early to give my tired voice a chance to warm up before the day’s exertions. A three-audition day on the last day of a ten-audition week – truly a test of endurance.

I made a few follow-up calls to DC theatres for next week, still hoping to reach the magic number 20. Played the cello hurriedly, just long enough to be sure it was relatively in tune, and then headed out for audition #1.

North Carolina Shakespeare Festival’s administrative offices are housed in a small run-down complex of industrial buildings about two miles from the performing arts center where their theatre is located. Pedro Silva, the Artistic Director, a slightly unkempt man who welcomed me and showed me the artist’s drawings of the new complex that is going up courtesy of a great deal of money. He heard my audition in the open carpeted office space with the receptionist looking on. In spite of the early hour, I brought forth Margaret for the molehill speech and conjured an irascible Touchstone for my little contrasting comedic snippet. The response was very positive and Pedro asked me to contact him in late April to see what was going on with their season.

Next stop was Triad Stage in Greensboro, which I found with little effort, and snagged a parking spot right out front. I was very early, and though I stopped in the offices to see whether I could be seen before my scheduled time, Jay Putnam, Artistic Associate and my auditor for the day, was nowhere to be found. I stood for a little while reading the many articles about the theatre that were posted on a large billboard outside the door to the administrative offices. Triad’s brief history is truly impressive – in just a few years and overcoming major obstacles, they have been the pivotal force behind a cultural and financial renewal of Greensboro. Plus anywhere that starts their season with DIARY OF ANNE FRANK, moves on through a few other shows to NOISES OFF and eventually finishes with TOBACCO ROAD is my kind of place!

I decided to pass the time by strolling the pleasant sidewalks of South Elm Street, admiring the architecture of Greensboro’s quaint low buildings that imbued the downtown area with its small-town charm. The shops and restaurants that line the street are all sort of quirky in a laid back way. Since it was close to lunchtime, I stopped to eat at a 50’s style diner, hoping to maybe get some eggs. Nothing but fried food and beef on the menu, however. In spite of my better judgment, since I still had two auditions to go, I was decadent and ordered a grilled cheese on sourdough with tomato and a house specialty: Pilot Pickles – fried pickle slices. I am a man of strange tastes and have always loved pickles so I couldn’t resist when I saw these on the menu, even though they cost more than my sandwich and were no doubt going to wreak havoc with my digestive system. They were sufficiently tasty but very greasy, and in the end I would have preferred straight-up unadorned pickle slices.

After lunch I walked the breezy street some more, Homer strapped to my back, hoping the cool air would purify my clothes so that I didn’t walk into my audition smelling of fried foods. I paused for tea and a chocolate croissant at Simple Kneads, a tiny little “artisan bakery” located at the back of a tiled alley directly across the street from the theatre. I relaxed and looked over the maps for the next leg of the trip, for although I found myself with ample time now, the hiatus between the next two auditions was short, with very little room for error in the commute into unknown territory.

At last it was time for my audition. I headed back to the theatre to find that Jay still had not arrived. Someone there called his cell and found that he was not far away. He came in, sneezing from a cold he was just getting, and excused himself for a few minutes to make a couple of phone calls. Wishing he had put me in a room somewhere so I could be playing Homer, I was left to busy myself sending silly text messages of inane quotes from Broadway musicals to my friend Dwayne Mann…which went unanswered, I might add. Dwayne? How you gonna leave me hanging like that? Perhaps you’ll think twice about it now that you’ve suffered public humiliation on the Salty Blog.

Eventually, Jay brought me in to a studio littered with rehearsal props from NOISES OFF (which, I discovered, had opened the night before) and we chatted briefly before I launched into the Doris/Touchstone combo. He seemed genuinely entertained by both creations and said that he would have their NY casting director call me in later this month when they have auditions for their next show, a play I did not know called SYNCOPATION. An excellent outcome!

I boarded Maxwell’s Silver Hammer and quickly checked my email from the car – free WiFi on South Elm Street – but hadn’t received any more responses from the DC area theatres. So, still flying high from the excellent Triad audition, I began the drive to Chapel Hill.

Partway there I needed to stop for gas. For some reason I thought I had enough to get me there and I figured I would tank up after the final audition of the day, but that was not to be. I hastily pulled into a station and filled up. Slowest. Pump. Ever. And at the same time my bladder decided it needed relief as well, so I went in to get the key and was treated to a heavily-accented ten-minute monologue from the gentleman behind the counter, who was expostulating on the wonders of a new anti-smoking drug to the slightly cute Fedex delivery guy, who looked antsy and must have been regretting having started the conversation. Apparently, this man had been smoking since he was nine years old, and a year ago his doctor told him that he had only a couple of months to live if he didn’t quit and he complained to the doctor that he had tried everything and the doctor recommended this new drug and nothing else had worked but boy, sure as shootin’ he hadn’t had a cigarette since because it just plain cut out the desire. As soon as I could get a word in edgewise I requested the key. Shortly thereafter I was on my way again.

In spite of my detour, I made it to Playmakers’ Repertory Company on University of North Carolina’s Chapel Hill campus in plenty of time. Inside the performing arts centre, I met Dave Hansen, the company manager, who brought me into their enormous rehearsal hall that was brightly lit by the late afternoon sun. Left there to my own devices for a while, I broke out Homer. Partway through the Bach prelude, Joe Haj, the Artistic Director entered. His manner was brusque yet professional and he seemed pleasant enough. I did the Doris/Touchstone combo and again felt it was extremely successful. Afterwards Joe thanked me and said that although this season was completely cast, they would keep my resume on file for next season. As he was showing me out, Dave made a point to assure me that my resume would not simply disappear. Apparently, they do in fact keep a very small file of actors they’d like to work with and they consult it at the beginning of their season.

I left feeling a huge sense of accomplishment, not only at the great last audition, and not only at having completed the crazy day, but looking back over the past week, I must conclude that the trip is an out-and-out success.

I grabbed dinner at the local Panera (still no responses from DC theatres) and then headed to nearby Raleigh to find a hotel for the weekend and to get some well-deserved rest.