In an attempt for TV/FILM representation, I have embarked on a recent relentless unapologetic quest for an agent. I aptly name this quest "Project SATIGR" ( Stalk agent till I get representation). ( And by stalking I mean following up with postcards, not facebook friending them or crashing their son's bar mitzvah- cmon, I'm a professional.) This is from a recent meeting I had with an agent. Hey man, you gotta start somewhere.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Self Inflicted Zen Moment
I myself am a believer that there are no coincidences. Things in life can often be divinely manipulated by some sort of cosmic force or ever-loving creator if you are open to it. However, I am also aware that I’m sometimes a little cray-cray, (crazy) and get a little off the beam and inflict these moments on myself. I call this experiencing a “Self-Inflicted Zen Moment”, or “SIZM” for short.
(FYI, I abbreviate everything. Or “ab. ev.” for short. It’s a disorder for which no cure has been found. I’m working on it in a support group, but we don’t have a proper name yet because we keep abbreviating all of the suggestions.)
Anyway, here is an example of a low-level SIZM…
Sally (talking to Jim in the high school cafeteria):
”You liked Garden State too? I loooved Garden State!! Track number 6 got me through a really rough time. Oh my god, we’re soul mates! “
Listen Sally. Let's have a little heart to heart.
You and Jim are not soul mates. A lot of people liked the movie “Garden State”, The Smiths rock, and Track 6 got half the emo population through a rough time.
Now that you understand, let’s cut to a grand example from the life of Raphael, Hayley Sarah.
A while ago I auditioned for the role of Chava (the youngest daughter) in Fiddler on the Roof. For those of you that aren't a musical theatre head like me I will enlighten you. Fiddler on the Roof is not a happy musical. Its no Disney movie of the week, that's for certain. Russian Jews. Adversity, sadness, moving on. You need this information before I proceed.
Now here is how my audition process for Fiddler on the Roof went down:
Audition 1: wait in audition line for 8 hours, didn't get to audition.
Audition 2: wait in line for 4 hours, didn't get to audition.
Audition 3: typed in and sang 16 bars.
Audition 4: sang “Matchmaker.”
Callback time came! Tragically I couldn't make it because I was too busy entertaining the Amish in Lancaster, PA. I was playing a singing, cartwheeling Santa Claus. I felt as if Nia Michaels handed me my ticket to Vegas for SYTYCD and I was like, “Oh, I'm sorry I'm too busy performing my tap solo at the YMCA in Hoboken for my grandparents.” I was heartbroken, but my roommates insisted that Fiddler would come back.
AND THEN.......
Self-Inflicted Zen Moment #1: AUDITION 5
I was still working as a dancing Santa in PA. I noticed in Backstage (which btw I was obsessively checking) that they were having an audition for replacements for Fiddler… on a Monday.... which was the only day of the week that I had off! SIZM!!!. After I stopped zen-fully hyperventilating, I spoke to the casting directors, and even though I couldn't make the Tuesday callback they say they were willing to see me and video my audition for the creative team.
(By the way, my boyfriend at the time looked exactly like Fyedka and was very supportive of this whole journey. Thanks, JD!)
After a train ride spent watching Topol disown his daughter, I arrived at Ripley studios as a bundle of sprite-like nerves and excitement. After seeing about 12 girls that looked exactly like me with 55 Broadway credits on their resume, I sang “Matchmaker” like a doe-eyed Jewish Disney princess. (Think Jasmine and Belle mushed together wearing an unattractive head frock.) It wasn't going get me nominated for a Tony award, but it passed.
I got a "Sounds good, but the creative team decided to not view videos. Thanks for your time, and well see you when you get back in NY.” (After you’re done singing “Oh Holy Night” in an 80's red and green prom dress, thank you very much.)
Again, disheartened. But the SIZM was still in effect, and I was confident that I would get another chance. I just had to be patient. (After all, the Amish deserve some entertaining too. I mean, no T.V.! I was making a contribution.)
Cut to January 2009.
I’m back in NY, doing the grind, living my life and bring all actor-ish and taking some “shutting the shades time”. ( For example: having a quarter life crisis trying to decide what to do with my entire life.) But when I emerge from my month long cocoon, I am ready. I spend my time in the following ways:
BEING PRODUCTIVE
I audition!
I get new headshots!
I go to the gym!
I take voice lessons!
TRYING NEW THINGS
Wearing my hair curly!
Salsa dancing!
Stand up comedy!
Meeting new people!
Trying to be pleasant and delightful to those around me! (Which in NYC is immensely challenging. But we smile…)
TRYING OTHER THINGS
Practicing my religion – i.e.Meaning I listed “Jewish” as my religion on Facebook.
Youtube-ing.
Hatching a harebrained scheme to be the next Bachelorette.
Cyber-stalking.
Thinking too much – Which is an exhausting activity.
And then, out of nowhere, my agent called to tell me that they were doing an immediate replacement call for Fiddler!
The Self-Inflicted Zen re-awakened. I called an emergency rehearsal with my longtime friend and acting coach, Nyle Lynn Caisley. She came over and we worked for three hours on the song and sides.
We did the scenes!
We went Uta Hagen, Meisner, Stanislavsky and Mamet all over that shit and then tried to forget it all and “just be”. (Actors.)
We did the song!
I sang “Matchmaker” and had a visual picture in every line for me, and then for Chava and then for both. And then forgot it all and just saw the other people I was taking to.
We had a motivational life talk!
Nyle became Dr. Phil, Buddah, and Tony Little with a dash of Ghandi!
I was ready. I swear I could feel the opening chords of “Tradition” swell from the orchestra pit as I prepared to channel Chava from backstage.
The night before the callback, in the clearest manifestation of my Fiddler on the Roof SIZM, I enumerated all the reasons I was right for the role.
There were practical reasons:
- I look like her.
- I’m the same size as the replacement so I would make the costumer’s life easy.
- I know the show well.
- I can sing the role.
- I was a swing and a quick study and would pick up.
- My agent is pushing for me.
- The casting directors already know my work.
Impractical reasons:
- I am a Russian Jew for heavens sakes!
My family is from a small town in Russia. If I can’t play my ancestors then who can I play?
- This would be the perfect marriage between my Jewishness and theatre-ness.
- As a member of the tribe (Jew) shouldn't I get special preference for the role from the casting directors? Or maybe even from God? I mean, certainly Hashem (Hebrew for God) – who clearly cares about musical theatre -- would want a nice Jewish girl from Queens as opposed to some Italian non-heeb that only looks Jewish to play the role.
(Okay, I know that I took Dora the Explorer away from some nice Latina girl with a dream. But when the next tour came around I didn't get the role because I don't speak Spanish. I speak bagel. Karma sucks.)
I even came up with some ways that I could sneakily drive my Jewishness home, like…
- Leaving my membership card to the JCC in the waiting room "by accident".
- Running into the casting director whilst having an emotional altercation with my father about my non-Jewish boyfriend.
- Letting a passover Sader drop out of my audition book.
- “Letting it slip" that my family is from an Anatevka-like village.
The next morning, I prepared.
I warmed up
I dressed in my modest audition clothing from the Gap.
I worked my hair curly with little makeup on my face.
I even took a cab, and arrived in a peaceful, zen state ready to provide the solution to their problem.
And then disaster hit.
Either my nerves got the best of me or I accidentally smoked a crack pipe – but either way, I temporarily forgot EVERYTHING I’d ever learned. It became opposite day in the life of Hayley Raphael.
They asked for 16 bars. I decided to not sing the song I prepared but another 16 bars. When I walked in the audition room and sang my song there was a huge disconnect between the accompanist and me, and I let it sway me.
When Chava is supposed to be scared by meeting Fyedka, instead of being off put-ish and shy, I got Nuyorican on their asses. My delivery of he line, "Is there something you want?" could have sliced a gangster.
Then, when the director reminded me I was in Anatevka and not a dark alley at 3am I changed my tune and came back to reality.
But then I noticed that the audition monitor was cute, and I took another left turn oh highway ridiculous. It was like I was watching a car accident.
Let's just put it this way: If the audition had been for the role of Gabrielle in High School Musical I would have landed the role. Instead of acting scared, intrigued and vulnerable, I was giggly and bubbly. I read the lines as if Zac Effron were cupping my face while John Mayer sang a song he wrote just for me. I played it like Brandon from “So You Think You Can Dance” was doing a tango with my soul.
After I was done with the scene, the artistic team sort of looked like they had been hit with a truck full of rainbow sprinkles. They said, “Thank you Hayley, that was adorable.”
Adorable?
I’ll remind you: Anatevka, adversity, Russian Jews. There is nothing Sesame Street about it this production.
I left the audition and walked from 26th and 7th all the way to 75th and Madison in a perplexed state. It didn't register what I had done until I about 50th and Park when I called Nyle. I told her about the audition. Her reaction was silence, followed by
“Um, why the @#*$!? did you not do what we worked on???”
For the first time in months I had no reaction. The Self-Imposed Zen, my seeming predestination for the role of Chava, went silent.
So let’s get real for a hot minute and talk about what happened.
What I did was fall into two traps that people do in life:
High expectations, and Self-sabotage.
I know I'm not the first or last person to do this. Every actor has that moment where they think some part is so right for them they get all worked up about it, and then they lose their brain and blow it. This not only happens in actor-y life but in relationships, jobs, whatevs.
Ever build something up and think about it so much that the real version of the thing almost ceases to exist? Ever make something or someone out to be your idea of them as opposed to what they actually are? I call it living in YOUR moment not THE moment. I find this especially happens with people who are very smart. Almost too smart.
The roles that I have gotten and the jobs that I have booked were when I felt relaxed and just focused on being connected with my material and telling a story. That’s it. Plain and simple. Not when I thought about all the outside factors having to do with it, like the other girls, the accompanist, or the cute audition monitor. (By the same token anything fabulous that has ever happened to me is pretty much when I did practically nothing to manipulate it.)
The only expectation I ever have now when I audition is that I get in there, perform and leave. Anything else is just icing on the cake. I know I fought long and hard to be in the city and try to do what I love and just the fact that I get to do it makes me a lucky duck.
Since the Fiddler debocle, I have tried to rein in the SIZMs and just let go more and accept what life deals me. I am much more happy and peaceful:)
Without even pursuing it, I got asked to be in two reading of a new musical, be part of 2 comedy writing teams, and be on the pilot of a new sitcom.
Maybe my immediate fate wasn’t to be little Chava-lah. But who am I to predict my own artistic journey in the world? Why leave other doors closed? Will I ever marry Kermit the frog?
To quote my dear friend and new writing partner "I don't believe in anything. I'm just along for the ride."
AS A FOOTNOTE TO THE LOVELY PEOPLE AT THE CASTING AGENCY
If you ever read this (you know who you are - and you guys are fabulous): I am fully aware that I read that script like Ursula from “Bye Bye Birdie” or a teenager at a Jonas Brothers concert. Please forgive me for this ridiculous transgression, as I was having a SIZM. Also the reader was very cute. Next time it boomerangs around, if it does, I will be ready. As a method actor, I have taken to devouring books, embracing quiet time, daydreaming, and only dating non-Jewish men. Thank you very much, and have a pleasant evening.
Shalom.
xoxox
Creative Sprite!
I myself am a believer that there are no coincidences. Things in life can often be divinely manipulated by some sort of cosmic force or ever-loving creator if you are open to it. However, I am also aware that I’m sometimes a little cray-cray, (crazy) and get a little off the beam and inflict these moments on myself. I call this experiencing a “Self-Inflicted Zen Moment”, or “SIZM” for short.
(FYI, I abbreviate everything. Or “ab. ev.” for short. It’s a disorder for which no cure has been found. I’m working on it in a support group, but we don’t have a proper name yet because we keep abbreviating all of the suggestions.)
Anyway, here is an example of a low-level SIZM…
Sally (talking to Jim in the high school cafeteria):
”You liked Garden State too? I loooved Garden State!! Track number 6 got me through a really rough time. Oh my god, we’re soul mates! “
Listen Sally. Let's have a little heart to heart.
You and Jim are not soul mates. A lot of people liked the movie “Garden State”, The Smiths rock, and Track 6 got half the emo population through a rough time.
Now that you understand, let’s cut to a grand example from the life of Raphael, Hayley Sarah.
A while ago I auditioned for the role of Chava (the youngest daughter) in Fiddler on the Roof. For those of you that aren't a musical theatre head like me I will enlighten you. Fiddler on the Roof is not a happy musical. Its no Disney movie of the week, that's for certain. Russian Jews. Adversity, sadness, moving on. You need this information before I proceed.
Now here is how my audition process for Fiddler on the Roof went down:
Audition 1: wait in audition line for 8 hours, didn't get to audition.
Audition 2: wait in line for 4 hours, didn't get to audition.
Audition 3: typed in and sang 16 bars.
Audition 4: sang “Matchmaker.”
Callback time came! Tragically I couldn't make it because I was too busy entertaining the Amish in Lancaster, PA. I was playing a singing, cartwheeling Santa Claus. I felt as if Nia Michaels handed me my ticket to Vegas for SYTYCD and I was like, “Oh, I'm sorry I'm too busy performing my tap solo at the YMCA in Hoboken for my grandparents.” I was heartbroken, but my roommates insisted that Fiddler would come back.
AND THEN.......
Self-Inflicted Zen Moment #1: AUDITION 5
I was still working as a dancing Santa in PA. I noticed in Backstage (which btw I was obsessively checking) that they were having an audition for replacements for Fiddler… on a Monday.... which was the only day of the week that I had off! SIZM!!!. After I stopped zen-fully hyperventilating, I spoke to the casting directors, and even though I couldn't make the Tuesday callback they say they were willing to see me and video my audition for the creative team.
(By the way, my boyfriend at the time looked exactly like Fyedka and was very supportive of this whole journey. Thanks, JD!)
After a train ride spent watching Topol disown his daughter, I arrived at Ripley studios as a bundle of sprite-like nerves and excitement. After seeing about 12 girls that looked exactly like me with 55 Broadway credits on their resume, I sang “Matchmaker” like a doe-eyed Jewish Disney princess. (Think Jasmine and Belle mushed together wearing an unattractive head frock.) It wasn't going get me nominated for a Tony award, but it passed.
I got a "Sounds good, but the creative team decided to not view videos. Thanks for your time, and well see you when you get back in NY.” (After you’re done singing “Oh Holy Night” in an 80's red and green prom dress, thank you very much.)
Again, disheartened. But the SIZM was still in effect, and I was confident that I would get another chance. I just had to be patient. (After all, the Amish deserve some entertaining too. I mean, no T.V.! I was making a contribution.)
Cut to January 2009.
I’m back in NY, doing the grind, living my life and bring all actor-ish and taking some “shutting the shades time”. ( For example: having a quarter life crisis trying to decide what to do with my entire life.) But when I emerge from my month long cocoon, I am ready. I spend my time in the following ways:
BEING PRODUCTIVE
I audition!
I get new headshots!
I go to the gym!
I take voice lessons!
TRYING NEW THINGS
Wearing my hair curly!
Salsa dancing!
Stand up comedy!
Meeting new people!
Trying to be pleasant and delightful to those around me! (Which in NYC is immensely challenging. But we smile…)
TRYING OTHER THINGS
Practicing my religion – i.e.Meaning I listed “Jewish” as my religion on Facebook.
Youtube-ing.
Hatching a harebrained scheme to be the next Bachelorette.
Cyber-stalking.
Thinking too much – Which is an exhausting activity.
And then, out of nowhere, my agent called to tell me that they were doing an immediate replacement call for Fiddler!
The Self-Inflicted Zen re-awakened. I called an emergency rehearsal with my longtime friend and acting coach, Nyle Lynn Caisley. She came over and we worked for three hours on the song and sides.
We did the scenes!
We went Uta Hagen, Meisner, Stanislavsky and Mamet all over that shit and then tried to forget it all and “just be”. (Actors.)
We did the song!
I sang “Matchmaker” and had a visual picture in every line for me, and then for Chava and then for both. And then forgot it all and just saw the other people I was taking to.
We had a motivational life talk!
Nyle became Dr. Phil, Buddah, and Tony Little with a dash of Ghandi!
I was ready. I swear I could feel the opening chords of “Tradition” swell from the orchestra pit as I prepared to channel Chava from backstage.
The night before the callback, in the clearest manifestation of my Fiddler on the Roof SIZM, I enumerated all the reasons I was right for the role.
There were practical reasons:
- I look like her.
- I’m the same size as the replacement so I would make the costumer’s life easy.
- I know the show well.
- I can sing the role.
- I was a swing and a quick study and would pick up.
- My agent is pushing for me.
- The casting directors already know my work.
Impractical reasons:
- I am a Russian Jew for heavens sakes!
My family is from a small town in Russia. If I can’t play my ancestors then who can I play?
- This would be the perfect marriage between my Jewishness and theatre-ness.
- As a member of the tribe (Jew) shouldn't I get special preference for the role from the casting directors? Or maybe even from God? I mean, certainly Hashem (Hebrew for God) – who clearly cares about musical theatre -- would want a nice Jewish girl from Queens as opposed to some Italian non-heeb that only looks Jewish to play the role.
(Okay, I know that I took Dora the Explorer away from some nice Latina girl with a dream. But when the next tour came around I didn't get the role because I don't speak Spanish. I speak bagel. Karma sucks.)
I even came up with some ways that I could sneakily drive my Jewishness home, like…
- Leaving my membership card to the JCC in the waiting room "by accident".
- Running into the casting director whilst having an emotional altercation with my father about my non-Jewish boyfriend.
- Letting a passover Sader drop out of my audition book.
- “Letting it slip" that my family is from an Anatevka-like village.
The next morning, I prepared.
I warmed up
I dressed in my modest audition clothing from the Gap.
I worked my hair curly with little makeup on my face.
I even took a cab, and arrived in a peaceful, zen state ready to provide the solution to their problem.
And then disaster hit.
Either my nerves got the best of me or I accidentally smoked a crack pipe – but either way, I temporarily forgot EVERYTHING I’d ever learned. It became opposite day in the life of Hayley Raphael.
They asked for 16 bars. I decided to not sing the song I prepared but another 16 bars. When I walked in the audition room and sang my song there was a huge disconnect between the accompanist and me, and I let it sway me.
When Chava is supposed to be scared by meeting Fyedka, instead of being off put-ish and shy, I got Nuyorican on their asses. My delivery of he line, "Is there something you want?" could have sliced a gangster.
Then, when the director reminded me I was in Anatevka and not a dark alley at 3am I changed my tune and came back to reality.
But then I noticed that the audition monitor was cute, and I took another left turn oh highway ridiculous. It was like I was watching a car accident.
Let's just put it this way: If the audition had been for the role of Gabrielle in High School Musical I would have landed the role. Instead of acting scared, intrigued and vulnerable, I was giggly and bubbly. I read the lines as if Zac Effron were cupping my face while John Mayer sang a song he wrote just for me. I played it like Brandon from “So You Think You Can Dance” was doing a tango with my soul.
After I was done with the scene, the artistic team sort of looked like they had been hit with a truck full of rainbow sprinkles. They said, “Thank you Hayley, that was adorable.”
Adorable?
I’ll remind you: Anatevka, adversity, Russian Jews. There is nothing Sesame Street about it this production.
I left the audition and walked from 26th and 7th all the way to 75th and Madison in a perplexed state. It didn't register what I had done until I about 50th and Park when I called Nyle. I told her about the audition. Her reaction was silence, followed by
“Um, why the @#*$!? did you not do what we worked on???”
For the first time in months I had no reaction. The Self-Imposed Zen, my seeming predestination for the role of Chava, went silent.
So let’s get real for a hot minute and talk about what happened.
What I did was fall into two traps that people do in life:
High expectations, and Self-sabotage.
I know I'm not the first or last person to do this. Every actor has that moment where they think some part is so right for them they get all worked up about it, and then they lose their brain and blow it. This not only happens in actor-y life but in relationships, jobs, whatevs.
Ever build something up and think about it so much that the real version of the thing almost ceases to exist? Ever make something or someone out to be your idea of them as opposed to what they actually are? I call it living in YOUR moment not THE moment. I find this especially happens with people who are very smart. Almost too smart.
The roles that I have gotten and the jobs that I have booked were when I felt relaxed and just focused on being connected with my material and telling a story. That’s it. Plain and simple. Not when I thought about all the outside factors having to do with it, like the other girls, the accompanist, or the cute audition monitor. (By the same token anything fabulous that has ever happened to me is pretty much when I did practically nothing to manipulate it.)
The only expectation I ever have now when I audition is that I get in there, perform and leave. Anything else is just icing on the cake. I know I fought long and hard to be in the city and try to do what I love and just the fact that I get to do it makes me a lucky duck.
Since the Fiddler debocle, I have tried to rein in the SIZMs and just let go more and accept what life deals me. I am much more happy and peaceful:)
Without even pursuing it, I got asked to be in two reading of a new musical, be part of 2 comedy writing teams, and be on the pilot of a new sitcom.
Maybe my immediate fate wasn’t to be little Chava-lah. But who am I to predict my own artistic journey in the world? Why leave other doors closed? Will I ever marry Kermit the frog?
To quote my dear friend and new writing partner "I don't believe in anything. I'm just along for the ride."
AS A FOOTNOTE TO THE LOVELY PEOPLE AT THE CASTING AGENCY
If you ever read this (you know who you are - and you guys are fabulous): I am fully aware that I read that script like Ursula from “Bye Bye Birdie” or a teenager at a Jonas Brothers concert. Please forgive me for this ridiculous transgression, as I was having a SIZM. Also the reader was very cute. Next time it boomerangs around, if it does, I will be ready. As a method actor, I have taken to devouring books, embracing quiet time, daydreaming, and only dating non-Jewish men. Thank you very much, and have a pleasant evening.
Shalom.
xoxox
Creative Sprite!
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