Eight Steps to a Solid Audition for an MFA Program

January 28, 2007 by Dennis Baker 

Published in Backstage on November 02, 2006

From researching schools and preparing monologues to filling out applications and making travel arrangements, getting accepted into a graduate school’s MFA program can be complicated. But all that research and paperwork can pay off: Actors who apply to graduate school have decided to postpone an immediate career to pursue training that will, hopefully, expand them as artists and make them more-versatile actors.

I auditioned for grad schools for three years after my undergraduate studies, and each year I learned more about the process. But to gain even more insight, I interviewed three actors: Frances Uku, a recent graduate of the American Repertory Theatre’s Institute for Advanced Theatre Training at Harvard University; Ted Stephens III, a second-year student in the MFA acting program at the University of Florida; and Carmen Gill, who graduated from the University of California, San Diego’s MFA acting program last year.

1. Research Schools

I thought I knew every MFA program in the country. But then I discovered the Chicago College of Performing Arts at Roosevelt University — only I was too late to audition. As the list that accompanies this article attests, there are over 100 MFA acting programs in the United States, and their websites are the place to start in finding the one that’s right for you. If one of them is nearby and looks interesting, go see a show or ask if you can sit in on a class. American Theatre magazine is another good source of information.

2. Select Your Monologues

Rarely performed monologues are often recommended, though a familiar one is fine as long as you can do it better than anyone else. The actors all mention that their undergraduate program or a scene study class gave them the opportunity to read newer plays and find a less-familiar piece that was right for them. The overdone works found in monologue books are generally to be avoided, unless it’s as a third or fourth backup. Uku, however, praised Alternative Shakespeare Auditions for Women by Simon Dunmore (there’s also one for men), and according to Gill, “The piece I chose from [a monologue book] was hilarious and I felt happy performing it, which showed. No one I performed it for had heard the monologue before and didn’t seem to care it was from an acclaimed play.” Of course, always read the entire play before performing a monologue, so you can understand its context and make better choices.

3. Find a Coach

An experienced hand to guide you is vital in preparing your monologues. Some actors choose teachers they’ve studied with or older actors with whom they’ve worked, while others prefer an experienced director. If you’re coming straight from an undergraduate program, your current acting teachers may be your best resource. If you’ve been out of school for a while, finding a coach can be more challenging, though there are some who specialize in preparing actors for grad school auditions. Uku worked with New York’s Charles Tuthill, who teaches a class called “Auditioning for Graduate School.” I chose director Andrew Traister because he had worked at some of the schools I was interested in attending. Having sat through many auditions, he was able to suggest monologues that weren’t overdone and that would show off my personality, and under his guidance I had a confidence that my earlier auditions lacked.

Treat your audition as a performance; give it the same time you would if you were rehearsing a show. Make an appointment to meet with your coach about three months before your first audition, and discuss the monologues you might want to do and ask for alternatives. Take your time exploring which pieces you most connect with, then work with your coach to fine-tune them into a performance. When it comes to length, shorter is almost always better. A total of three minutes for your two monologues is fairly standard, though many recruiters claim they know within the first three lines whether they’re interested in you.

4. Figure Out How to Pay for It

And not just for the school itself, where the annual tuition can top $25,000, but for all the application and audition fees, which can really add up. In my third year of auditioning, I applied to 23 schools — each with its own fees — and attended the University/Resident Theatre Association auditions (see below), entailing travel expenses plus hotel and food costs in Chicago. If you’re currently enrolled in an undergraduate program, your college may offer scholarships to help students applying to grad schools. Also, talk to fellow students; if you’re all auditioning in the same place, you could travel together and share a hotel room. If your undergraduate theatre department doesn’t organize a group trip to U/RTA, start one yourself; the department may assist once it sees how many students are interested. Draft a budget and figure out how to get the most out of your auditioning money. Uku, for example, was living in New York and chose to audition at schools she could reach by public transportation.

5. Schedule Your Auditions

There are two ways to be seen: You can sign up for group auditions through U/RTA, or you can set up a private audition.

Applications for U/RTA auditions are usually due in November of the year prior to the auditions, which are held annually in New York, Chicago, and San Francisco. Candidates auditioning in New York and Chicago are screened by a panel of teachers and members of the professional theatre community, and those deemed eligible move on to the final auditions, where they’re seen by the colleges. (There’s no screening audition in San Francisco.) Interviews and callbacks with individual schools follow the final auditions. Those who don’t make the final auditions can attend a later open call, though there’s no guarantee the schools you’re interested in will be there. See U/RTA’s website, www.urta.com, for further details and a list of schools attending.

The advantage of auditioning at U/RTA is that you’ll be seen by a large number of schools in one trip, minimizing your expenses (more schools audition in New York and Chicago than in San Francisco). The downside is that with so many people auditioning at once, you don’t get to choose a school as much as the school chooses you. When I auditioned for the University of California at Irvine, the head of the acting department said the program sees over 1,000 people a year and selects only eight. If you’re choosy about which school you attend, U/RTA may not be right for you.

If you’re staying in a hotel while auditioning at U/RTA, “I would really recommend having a laptop or computer at your disposal,” says Stephens, “so that if you do get some [interviews], you can take a few minutes to learn about each school before your callback.” Individual interviews take place in the evening after your morning callback, leaving you the afternoon to research the schools that expressed interest in you. You’ll likely be asked why you want to attend the program, and research could give you an answer that will make you stand out.

For the schools at the top of your list, you should schedule a private audition. Don’t leave your chance of being seen in the hands of a screening panel. Many top schools require private auditions, as they don’t attend U/RTA, while others schedule a round of private auditions at the same time and place as U/RTA. (Also note that some schools audition only every three years.) In my second year at U/RTA, I didn’t get passed on to the final auditions, and though I attended the open call and interviewed with some schools, I didn’t feel good about my prospects. The next year, I knew I needed to be seen by as many schools as possible, so in addition to auditioning at U/RTA, I found out which schools were holding private auditions there and scheduled slots with them in order to maximize my face time.

After the callback, it’s time to follow up, which could include visiting the campus. Gill found that talking to current students was her best resource: “It’s hard to get a sense of what you actually are doing each day in graduate school from the course listings. I was able to ask them what their day-to-day life was like at school, what the vibe of the program was as a whole, and if they were happy with their choice. They were all surprisingly honest about their school’s pros and cons. I never felt like people were trying to sell me on their school.”

6. Keep Studying

If you’re not accepted on your first try, keep studying. I spent the two years after my undergraduate program studying voice and the Meisner technique, and in my third year of auditioning, many schools were impressed that I was still taking classes even though I wasn’t in a formal program. Schools like to see students who are committed to their craft and who won’t quit under the rigors of grad school training. Some of them — such as American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco — offer summer programs with the same instructors who teach in the MFA program. It’s a good way for them to get to know you better, it gives you a taste of the grad school experience, and it could help you stand out when auditioning for the school in the future.

7. Get Some Experience

Schools also appreciate professional experience. “While I was getting my [undergraduate] degree in theatre,” says Stephens, “I continued to act, both academically and professionally with some of the regional theatres around the Quad City area, and also dabbled in producing, stage management, theatre marketing, and even sound-designed a show. I really treasure the four years or so that I wasn’t a full-time student, because it allowed me to gain some real-world experience, travel around the world…all things that I use every day as an actor in graduate school and professionally now. I really believe that the time off allowed me to gain a worldly perspective. In that time off, I gained a better understanding of myself so that I could in turn share that strong sense of self in my acting.”

Uku agrees: “I took two 12-week advanced scene-study classes back to back at HB Studio in New York City, one strictly Shakespeare-based and the other using contemporary plays, both taught by Austin Pendleton. I had never taken an acting class before Austin, so I found both classes useful in introducing me to contemporary American and British writing, as well as to the vocabulary of acting and the theatre.”

8. Be Yourself

Most important when auditioning for graduate school is to be yourself. “I think the key with these auditions is being comfortable in your own skin,” Uku says. “I thought I was unworthy because I was new to acting, hadn’t studied acting as an undergraduate, grew up abroad, looked like an ingénue but had the aura of a leading lady. It’s funny how it’s exactly because of those things that I’m now one of those rare people who lives off acting income alone.” Says Stephens, “The most important part about auditioning is not who you know, what show you’ve been in, or what reviews you’ve gotten, but rather that you are yourself. That you’re a person interested in not only furthering your own abilities but also sharing the arts with others. People that are [themselves] are always the most interesting and honest, and the most fascinating on stage.”

Technorati Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Filed under: Acting, Auditioning, Graduate School
Tagged:

First Year pt. II (aka Second Semester)

January 21, 2007 by Dennis Baker 

The second semester is shaping up to much different from the first for various reasons. I was nervous in starting this semester. I knew more would be asked of us and the work load would increase.

The first major difference is what I have been recently talking about, “The Country Wife”. I am honored to be in a mainstage show as a first year, but this is definitely the hardest show I have ever done. Each actor has to integrate heightened movement and speech with specific intentions to lines that are very stylized (think along the lines of Shakespearean text). As a first year we are not given the tools to juggle all these things. The good thing is that some of these other pieces are beginning to be specifically worked on. We met our speech coach in a tutorial this last week. It was decided the dialect would be between an elevated Skinner/Mid-Atlantic and just below a full British RP. As speech is my weakest part of my instrument it will be interesting to see where I can land with this. The Alexander teacher has been to a couple of rehearsals and has given me some great tools to help bring the movement aspect together for my character.

Another blaring difference is the schedule. My voice teacher asked me to take a yoga class to help with breathing and flexibility. Rutgers offers these classes for free and I am taking yoga three times a week. With that added to my full schedule I get out each day around 6pm and have an hour to run home, shower, eat and then get to rehearsal at 7pm.

Another aspect that is a difference is that I believe I am changing as a person. I have a sense that I am beginning to open up as a person in my acting class. A big push in acting class your first year is to learn have to live truthfully and fully on stage. We just finished our first scene in class this last Friday and I think it went well. I could not have asked for a better scene partner. Our connection came easy and became a foundation for us to dig deeper into meaning and therefore create the fullness that is asked of us in the scene. I feel myself being peeled like an onion and slowly being pulled apart, all a good thing. I hope that I can continue to be open to where I will go as a person, which is the foundation for m work as an actor.

Filed under: Acting, Graduate School, Rutgers
Tagged:

So You Wanna Be A Star?

January 21, 2007 by Dennis Baker 

Here is an article that I had saved in my inbox:

Q&A with Anna Deavere Smith: So you wanna be a star?
By Marc Silver
Posted 1/21/06

In our celebrity-besotted culture, the arts have an irresistible attraction for young people. But jobs in the arts are not as plentiful as stars in the sky (or even as stars in Hollywood). Actor and playwright Anna Deavere Smith offers guidance in her new book, Letters to a Young Artist: Straight-up Advice on Making a Life in the Arts. Smith, a Tony Award nominee and Pulitzer finalist, writes and performs one-woman shows that capture diverse voices from a place of crisis: Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992, about the riots, for example. She also portrays the national security adviser on West Wing.

Shouldn’t you really be doing a book called Advice on Not Making a Life in the ArtsWell, you know, artists just have always been on the fringe of society. Plato kicked us right straight out of the republic.

So it’s never easy to be an artist.

You make that decision to be an artist cautiously. You won’t have the same options for survival that your friends who are as educated as you have. You have to educate artists to be cagey, smart, mobile, flexible. Don’t get in a situation where, if you’re an actor, all you can do is audition.

You talk about renting yourself out but not selling out.

I am talking about understanding that your identity belongs to you. It’s seductive to have somebody tell you what you should be doing. But in the end, an artist has to take responsibility for his or her own voice and destiny.

What kind of choices will lie ahead for young artists?

You may have to decide not to go forward with a project. You may have to decide to do something commercial at a moment when you might want to do something not commercial but that isn’t going to make you a shred of money. You may have to end a romantic relationship because that relationship is requiring more of you than you can give. On the other hand, you may decide to have a romantic relationship or get married or have a child because those things are going to make you a more whole person.

Does a thick skin help? In the book you tell of being turned down for a role in a sitcom because you aren’t three-camera funny.

You have to move on to the next thing. But yeah, yeah, it hurts. You have to get used to the fact that hurt is a part of it.

You say a great deal about the power of presence.

Some people are just not aware of what they’re doing physically. When I teach a class and people are sitting as if bored to tears on the first day I expect you to look like you want to be there. Everything’s [about being] so cool and hanging back now. I do think presence is a kind of energy level that can be cultivated.

I have a 17-year-old daughter who wants to act. What advice do you have for her?

I think the most important thing and this sounds kind of churchy she should practice every day finding the joy in what she’s doing. Because it’s that joy and that real desire to communicate that is going to keep the whole thing alive for her no matter what happens. We think of the clown as the figure who, no matter how tough authority is, keeps coming back. The clown is irrepressible. What she should cultivate is that irrepressibility.

And how should she pick a college drama program?

She should go to a school where she sees that irrepressibility in her potential classmates. And where there’s a lot expected of her, and where she can practice failing as well as succeeding. And someplace where questions are valued as much as answers. She should use her education to discover her questions as in a quest not the answers.

Filed under: Acting, Auditioning, Film, Los Angeles, New York
Tagged:

Country Wife Rehearsal

January 10, 2007 by Dennis Baker 

We are in the middle of the second week of rehearsal and things seem to be moving along. The first week consisted of table readings. There were times that we got through twenty five pages in four hours! As tedious as that sounds, it was helpful to walk (and sometimes crawl) through the material to make sure we understood the characters and circumstances. Unfortunately about half of my lines were cut. Many of my lines did not have to do with the thrust of the plot, and since the original play is three hours long, the lines were cut for time and clarity. I understand why there were cut, but a part of me is bummed because the scenes that were cut brought insight to who my character was and why he was in the show. All part of the business.

This is week is spent on blocking and as the director, Cigdem Onat, calls it, sketching out the scenes. I have had the last two days off as I am not in Act IV and most of Act V. We sat around the later part of rehearsal on Monday and the director talked to us about some of our characters. Some actors have found many parts of their character this early in the process while other actors are still treading through the murky water. I feel I am somewhere in the middle. I feel I understand my character and am continuing to explore what all that means.

I feel a little distant from the overall production. As much as I am apart of it, I feel I am on the outer circles. This is occurs from the fact that since it is such a big cast (7 men and 7 women) time is spent on the main characters and therefore the supporting actors do not get as much time working with the director. This causes me to continually check in with myself to see if I am executing the actions and thoughts that I think represent my character. I am taking the stance that if the director has not said anything to me that I am progressing in a manner that matches her vision. Time will tell if that is working for me.

Filed under: Acting, Graduate School, Rutgers
Tagged: