This roadtrip is by far the saltiest thing this bitch has ever done. I'm thrilled with the results so far. Over the course of the fourteen days I will use to get back to New York, I will have one-on-one auditions at 12 (and counting) regional theatres along the way. Initially, in contemplating this trip, I felt I would be happy if I were able to be seen by ten theatres - I have ten auditions scheduled this week alone! Sometimes they have been set far in advance, sometimes I've had to do some last minute jockeying to get them scheduled, but things have really come together.
We're almost caught up. Here's the past few days:
Sunday January 21 - Sarasota, FL to Montgomery, AL
Late in the day on Friday, as I was heading to my craptacular audition at Florida Studio Theatre, I received a voicemail that filled me with excitement and jump-started the Great Salty Roadtrip with an added jolt of adrenaline. The first theatre I had contacted back in December in my initial planning stages was the Alabama Shakespeare Festival in Montgomery. I had heard great things about them and was excited at the prospect of a long repertory season performing Shakespeare. After repeated follow-up attempts, however, I never heard anything back from them. I made one last effort to follow up and book an audition slot on Thursay last week, but had basically written them off and had cut Alabama out of my travel plans.
But on Friday I received a very apologetic call from Kevin Stewart, the Executive Assistant to the Artistic Director, saying that apparently my first two messages (which I referenced in Thursday's message) had been accidentally deleted. Apparently they were having some issues with their voicemail system. Kevin informed me that yes, they would be very interested in having me come and audition on Monday if I were still able to do so. I jumped for joy, composed my self, and said "of course."
So, Saturday was spent in frantic preparation, trying to get everything together and ready to go for the epic trip northward.
First thing in the morning on Sunday, literally at midnight, Jeffrey drove me to the Sarasota/Bradenton International Airport to pick up my rental car. He kept me in good spirits and laughing the whole way (not only with his rapier-sharp wit but also at his questionable driving skills). At the airport, I was greeted with a surly look by the gentleman behind the desk at Alamo Rent-A-Car, who had apparently just gone on break for the night when I showed up. I explained that I had called ahead to tell them that I would be picking up my car around 12:10 AM (which I had) and that I was really sorry to be doing it so late but I had just gotten off of work myself (which I had not). He softened and said he understood and began to put my reservation together. When he saw the length of the trip I was taking, he said his conscience would not allow him to send me off across country in an economy car, which I had reserved, and he bumped me up to a midsize car free of charge. And not just any midsize car, but a brand new (less than 270 miles on it when I got inside) beautiful spacious silver Toyota Corolla. The new car smell was fresh and exhilarating. A few summers ago when I drove to cello camp in Maine for the first time, I was given a sleek silver sportscar which I called the Silver Bullet. I decided that this car needed a name too, but the blunt features precluded anything so zippy...shortly, it came to me: I dubbed the car Maxwell's Silver Hammer.
I got home and spent the night folding laundry cleaning the house a bit and loading up the car as much as possible. I then slept for a couple of hours.
I awoke and continued the preparations to leave. As I got closer to leaving I realized that I was feeling sad about my Dad and about going away from this house which held so many memories for our family. When everything was packed in the car and I was all set to go, I stopped before leaving and played the cello on our gorgeous back deck for a little while. It delayed my departure until about 1:00 PM but it was worth it. I just took about half an hour to play, saying goodbye to the house, filling the air with music and hope and love.
I then took up Maxwell's Silver Hammer and hit the open road!
Three hours later I got a speeding ticket. I had torn my way through most of the northward route in Florida and had just made the turn onto I-10, which was to take me West out past Tallahassee and into the panhandle. I had been following a woman in an SUV since well before Gainesville, and she was moving at quite a clip. I don't know why I was singled out and she sped on unhindered, but I took it as a nod from Dad, since he had received many speeding tickets throughout the years on various family roadtrips.
The rest of the trip up into Alabama passed without incident...though I did drive through a torrential downpour where the sky was suddenly black and sinister, and I did pass the National Peanut Festival without stopping, sadly. Maxwell's Silver Hammer proved to be a sturdy and trustworthy steed, and I felt completely at ease behind the wheel. I am so grateful to that Alamo guy!
At about 9:00, as planned, I arrived in the outskirts of Montgomery near the Alabama Shakespeare Festival. I had dinner at Carrabba's (Italian) in honour of my Grandfather, found a nearby motel to stay in for the night and promptly went to sleep.
Monday January 22 - Montgomery, AL to Alpharetta, GA
I awoke with the intention of playing the cello in the hotel room before my audition but ran out of time and had to head out.
The Alabama Shakespeare Festival is located in the middle of a gorgeous (even in the rain on a dreary day) park, and the enormous Festival Theatre is set back from the main entrance road, majestically welcoming all who seek the Bard and providing a stunning and impressive vista as you approach.
Inside, I met Kevin Stewart who was just as kind in person as on the phone, and he ushered me into a large rehearsal hall where I was to have my audition. Since I had a little while to wait, I decided to do the trick I learned before my Florida Rep audition - I got out the cello and started to tune it so I could play. I was just about to start playing the Prelude to the first Bach Suite when Nancy Rominger, Artistic Associate, interrupted me excitedly.
A former cellist who abandoned her bow for the stage at some point earlier in her career, Nancy and I hit it off right away. We traded celllo stories and blabbed on about all things musical for so long that eventually Kevin, who had come back to introduce me to Nancy, could not get a word in edgewise and was forced to beat a hasty retreat back out into the hall. A few minutes later, Nancy and I settled in and I began my audition pieces. I felt that I was well-received and I was generally pleased with how the monologues went. I was thrown for a bit of a loop, since I had planned to do two Shakespeare pieces and when I was done with the first one, Nancy asked me if I had anything modern to do. But I think she was happy with my work. She said that there really were only two things left in the season yet to be cast, one of which was a week-long workshop, but she promised to keep me in mind for when they would inevitable come to New York in the future. She also made me promise to keep on her if I saw that they were auditioning for something for which I felt I should be considered. All in all, a very successful audition.
From the mysitcal gardens of Shakespeareland (there was a delicately sloping outdoor ampitheatre and I longed to play the cello there. If the weather had been slightly less biting, I would have certainly done so), I drove less than five minutes into the culture shock of the crass, commercial strip-mall laden road that would take me towards the Interstate. I stopped in a Panera, which happened to offer free wireless, changed out of my "audition costume", grabbed some yummy vegetable soup served in a sourdough bread bowl, and hopped online to do some followup with theatres later on in the trip. Checking my messages, I was delighted to discover that Flat Rock Playhouse, in Flat Rock, North Carolina, had called to say that they did in fact want to see me - this was another major venue that I had been about to write off since my flurry of emails and phone calls had gone completely unanswered.
At length, I got back on the road. Today's trip was far less taxing - a mere three hours as opposed to yesterday's eight. However, a combination of the long drive the previous day and an uncomfortable sleeping position had left my neck incredibly sore, which made this three hours quite uncomfortable.
Norman and Margie, my cousins in Alpharetta, Georgia were anxious to see me, and kept calling my mobile to see where I was and spew forth frightening tales of Atlanta traffic. Perhapst their vehicular hysteria inured me to the congestion, but I found the drive quite smooth and passed through some notoriously hairy areas unmolested at the height of rush hour. I was fed copious amounts of very yummy Chinese food upon my arrival, and was greeted with rousing cheers of "Welcome Cousin Michael!" from Norman and Margie's three kids, Adam, Ryan and Carly. The boisterous dinner table chatter transitioned smoothly into a boisterous tour of their expansive home, all beautifully decorated by Margie. Norman's business is the movies - he owns two (soon to be three) movie theatre complexes in the Atlanta area and has become one of the premiere entrepreneurs of Atlanta. The home theatre in his basement belies his passionate love of the art form. My only regret is that I won't get to really spend any time this trip languishing in the high definition television and free popcorn. I spent several minutes before bed standing in awed meditation on the trifecta that adorns one wall of Norman's office: three scripts and three poster artwork plates framed separately, all signed by each of the headlining members of the cast as well as the director; a trilogy of impressive memorabilia from the most impressive trilogy of recent memory, LORD OF THE RINGS.
After typing up the Salty tales of Florida for you, dear reader, I was completely exhausted and went straight to bed!
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