Odd Jobs, Episode 1: The Afro-Beat Dance Call

I'm not sure if I've told you this story or not. It's hard to express the details of a story like this without facial expressions and hand gestures. I'm a big fan of facial expressions and hand gestures.

But, here goes nothing. 

During my first year in New York, I had the privilege of working alongside Arnold Mungioli as an intern and then a Casting Assistant at Mungioli Theatricals. I cannot even begin to explain how much I learned about the business and about being an artist during my time there. Each casting session was like a masterclass in audition etiquette, and every day in the office gave me insight into the business world of this industry. I collected a handful of really wonderful stories, but there are a few I will never ever forget.

We were working with Bill T Jones and his creative team to cast the second national tour of FELA! For those of you who don't know, FELA! is the story of Fela Kuti, the father of AfroBeat music. And for those of you who don't know what AfroBeat is, according to Knitting Factory Records, "Fela contended that AfroBeat was a modern form of danceable, African classical music with an urgent message for the planet’s denizens. Created out of a cross-breeding of Funk, Jazz, Salsa and Calypso with Juju, Highlife and African percussive patterns, it was to him a political weapon."

The musical is a fast paced, heart pounding, eye-opening show that relies heavily on dance and music to tell the story of Fela and his followers. For auditions, in addition to agent appointments, EPA’s, and larger offer negotiations, we scheduled and advertised a dance call. The breakdown specified that we were looking for African American men an women with experience in African and Modern dance. I spent weeks contacting every dance studio in the tri-state area and posting the audition information on every website I could find. We were trying to reach a very specific type of performer, and we wanted the creative team to be pleased with the turnout.

The audition was listed as an ECC (Equity Chorus Call), meaning that members of the actor’s union would be seen first, and if there was time, we would see individuals who aren’t affiliated with a union. For Equity auditions, Actor’s Equity provides an Equity Monitor, or someone to keep everyone organized in the holding room. If all equity members have been seen, the monitor isn’t required to stay for the rest of the call.

I was sitting in the audition room with the creative team when our assigned equity monitor came in to give us the plan for the morning. She had two groups of equity dancers lined up, and asked if I would be willing to monitor after that. I agreed quickly, having monitored many times, and thinking that it would be a slow trickle of dancers in and out through the morning. I was worried that we were only going to see a few groups of dancers and that I had failed miserably in my attempts to advertise the audition. After the equity groups were seen, I went into the hallway to organize the few non-equity girls that I assumed were waiting outside.  As I walked into the holding room, I was swarmed by more than two hundred gorgeous ethnic women with face paint and African headdresses. TWO HUNDRED dancers.

I picked up the unofficial list and began reading names like Ade Chike, Ndeye, Malaiyka, Rasaan, and Uyouata.  I could just fell them laughing at me as I tried to pronounce the names on the paper I was holding. I was corrected many, many times. It didn't help much.

We survived. The dancers were all seen that day, and we ended up with a fabulous cast. I am very fortunate to have grown up in a home that promoted cultural awareness, but my eyes were opened that day to a world of deeply rooted, passionate, artistic expression. I saw so much pride in heritage and tradition, and the whole experience felt less like an audition than communal dance party. The creative team was thrilled with the turnout, and even though I had to apologize countless times for botching names, everyone seemed satisfied at the end of the day… except maybe the studio workers… we took up a lot of space… Two Hundred dancers all trying to stretch at the same time can be a little overwhelming – especially when you add tribal facepaint.

Episode 2: The Tea Party Princess

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea

Introduction to the new blog series: Odd Jobs

I meet a lot of people. I’m social. I’m an extrovert. It happens.

Inevitably, within a few short moments of meeting someone new, I am asked the question, “So, what do you do?”

I have almost come to dread this question because after answering “Oh I’m an actor,” I generally get one of two responses:

1    1) Don’t you mean “actRESS”

Or 

2         2) So what do you REALLY do?”

Both of these responses used to frustrate me. I would get defensive and make negative snap judgments about the ignorant or condescending persona of my new associate.

My answer for question #1 is simple: If you want to call me an actress, that’s fine. However, on my tax form and any occupational paperwork I fill out, the box available for me to select is “actor,” and nothing else. It is a gender neutral job title. You wouldn’t call a female physician a Doctress. You would call a woman who travels to space an Astronautette.  Now, I’m no a raging feminist, so if you call me an actress, I won’t be offended; however, if you try to correct me when I tell you what I do for a living, I will secretly roll my eyes at you while giving you a sweet southern smile.

Moving on.

My answer for question #2 is a bit more complicated, so I’ve decided to write a blog series about it. For a long time, it made me angry that people didn’t think I could make a living as an actor. After some time in New York City, I’ve realized there’s more truth in this question than people often realize. While I am primarily a performer pursuing my dreams, I have put on many different hats in the past few years to keep my bank account from crashing between gigs.

I was told a few weeks ago that 75% of an actor’s career is spent in auditions.  I believe it. We spend hours, and days, and months, and years in holding rooms and audition rooms, and we spend approximately the same amount of time taking classes, doing research, and preparing for those auditions. The difficult truth is that we don’t get paid for any of those hours. Booking a gig is great, and getting paid to act, sing, and dance is amazing, but unfortunately hopping from gig to gig to gig with no holes is rare, and you never know how long those holes can be, so an actor has to be prepared. We have to eat, dangit.

I have a lot of friends who wait tables or work in food service. This is a pretty typical survival job for an actor. It typically provides a flexible schedule, an engaging environment, and coworkers who understand the situation. I, however, have never actually worked in the restaurant world. My musical theater training provided me with a plethora of helpful life skills that I have utilized in many different ways, and in many different jobs in recent years, many of which make for fun stories. Over the next few weeks I plan on sharing my experiences with those of you who are curious enough to actually read my blog.

I present to you, Odd Jobs: An Eclectic Collection of Workplace Stories.

Tune in next time for Episode 1: The Afro-beat Dance Call.

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea

Heading "home"

I’m on my way “home”. After a quarter of the year on a theater contract in the mountains of New Hampshire, I am finally headed back “home” to New York City. Why is “home” in quotations, one might ask. Well, dear friend, that is the topic of this particular bus musing.

A four hour bus ride provides ample time for reflection, and the definition of home is the most pressing thing on my mind currently. I just spent three and a half months in Lincoln, New Hampshire. Oh you’ve never heard of it? Then clearly you: A) haven’t read my previous blog yet, and B) aren’t an avid New England skier or semi-wealthy mountain vacation home owner. Towards the end of my stay in the White Mountains, I started to feel a strange attachment to the town, the adventures, and the people of Lincoln. I even told some that it was beginning to feel like home. Thinking over it now, I realize that my entire life will be comprised of many “homes.” I have chosen a life of temporary residences, transient relationships, and very little stability. This is the life of a working actor- the modern day gypsy.

Even before I moved to New York, I considered many places to be “home.” My elementary school days were based in Northern Georgia, a place that will always have a special place in my heart, and a sense of home when I visit familiar places and see the people who impacted my young life. Montevallo, Alabama is another treasured home of mine. A piece of my heart – along with a lot of my blood, sweat, and tears- is buried under those brick streets. Biloxi, Mississippi is (and I assume will always be) the home to which my origin is accredited.  For the past three months, when people ask where I’m from, my typical response is “Mississippi, but I live in New York now.” Does that mean Mississippi is still more of a home to me than New York or the others?

The old cliché claims that “home is where the heart is.” I’m assuming that gives me permission to claim many homes because I have a pretty big heart. Thank you, cliché. That makes things easier.

Yesterday, telling everyone goodbye and reminiscing on our wonderful season, I felt as though I had spent a lifetime in Lincoln, and New York was a distant memory. Today, as I was sitting in the bus station in Boston, I felt the opposite. I had the strange sensation that I had been in New York merely a week prior and that the adventures I had this summer were long past. Time is certainly a funny thing.

So maybe today I add the Papermill Theater to my list of “homes.” I will certainly miss it, and I will definitely be back to visit. And maybe my next home is being prepared for me right now, as I travel back to my home base, NYC. Or, perhaps, the list of places I consider to be “home” is more concrete, and Lincoln, with the passing of time, will take its place as the first on the list in a different category- an equally important, but very different category- more permanent than a vacation, more transient than a home, more important than a temporary residence. Is there a name for that? I know I’m not the first to experience this, but for whatever reason, this is not something they cover in school.

Whatever the outcome of the musings, I am giddy to be going back to New York City today. Singing Sinatra’s “New York, New York” to finish out the season was exhilarating. I am one of the fortunate ones who gets to experience what he and so many artists before and after realized: New York is extreme. It is the highest of highs at times, and on other days it is the lowest of the lows. It’s true that if I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere but I want nothing more than to really be a part of it. It is “home,” and I’m going back!

So, start spreadin’ the news!

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea

The "Quirks" of Lincoln New Hampshire

Living in a small town always has its quirks.

Living in Lincoln, New Hampshire is no exception. In fact, Lincoln is a super quirky little town. Per request of Kathy, I've compiled a list of things I have found amusing over the past few months.

Here We Go:

The Chinese Acrobat Troupe
---Only in Lincoln, New Hampshire can you drive down the road to rehearsal and pass Asian teenagers flipping tables on their feet in the front yard. This is the only other group of "young people" we've encountered since we've been here. They're contracted to perform at Clark's Trading post. They keep to themselves, but they're very talented.

The Price Chopper
---I still haven't figured out why the grocery store is open 24 hours a day, but all of the restaurants and the ice cream shop are closed by 10pm. For a small town grocery store, it's not cheap either. If we want food after a show, the Price Chopper is basically our only option.

The nearest Starbucks is 45 minutes away.
---Pumpkin Spice Latte! I need you in my life!

Dancing Bears and a Wolfman at Clark's Trading Post.
--- Yup. Dancing Bears. Those are a thing. To get them to dance, the owners of Clark's feed them ice cream. Those are the happiest bears I have ever seen in my life. Also at Clark's trading post, you can ride a train into the Wolfman's territory and get chased by a gun-weilding mountain man, take a tour through the topsy-turvy Tuttle house, and have your motion-sickness tested at Merlin's Magical Mansion. Kitschy? Yes. Amazing? Yes.

3 pizza restaurants, 3 coffee shops, 2 ice cream parlors, and no Wal-Mart.
--- We're all set with food here in Lincoln (at least, before 10). 24 hours of grocery shopping, and all the pizza and ice cream you could want are easily accessible in this little mountain town. BUT, if you want toiletries, clothes, or other life essentials for a decent price, get out of town.

Spiders
--- There are a lot of them. There are many different kinds. They bite. We even have some sort of hybrid spider/hermit crab outside our front door.

Moose Tours
--- Want to see a moose? For $30 this van will take you up into the mountains to all of the illusive moose hiding spots. With a 98% sighting rate, one has to wonder why it's so difficult to find them on your own. They must have a secret...

The Penguin Ski Club
---"The Penguin" was once a high school. Then it was an Opera House. It is now used in the winter time by a group of avid skiers like a timeshare. In the summer, is the residence of the Papermill Theater Company. We use the bunk beds for sleeping, the common rooms for socializing, and the gym for rehearsal and evening recreation. It's like being at summer camp... No, seriously. When was the last time you played dodgeball or shirts/skins basketball? Summer camp.

Hikers
---Hikers making their way along the Appalachian Trail trek through town on a daily basis. Those going through Lincoln are generally on their fifth month of travel... and they smell like it. On the rare occasion that we interact with the hikers, they are generally out of touch with the clean-shaven world, so we do our best to have conversations about something other than the trails. We even helped a set of trail buddies get to know one another by simply asking their real names and what they do when they're not walking across the country... Standard conversation starters for us seem to be foreign and intimate questions for this special group.

Live Free or Die
--- This is the motto of New Hampshire. You don't have to wear your seatbelt. There's no sales tax. You can shoot fireworks off whenever you want, and they can be as big as you want. The lack of restraint on fireworks attracts quite the crowd to small towns in New Hampshire on summer holidays. It's actually pretty impressive.

The only "Five Star Library in New Hampshire" - Whatever that means...
---I don't know what makes a library "5 Star" worthy, but I do know the librarian at this particular establishment is AWESOME! We've become pretty good buddies. She asks how the shows are going and gives reading suggestions when I come in every other Wednesday to switch out my books. She even noticed my scraped up arm from a failed lake adventure and reminded me that The Baroness in The Sound of Music would NOT have a bandaid on her elbow.

Nature and Adventurous things
---Lincoln is a ski town in the winter and a natural playground in the summer months. Locals and tourists enjoy hiking, kayaking, swimming, and all sorts of other outdoor adventures. When you're a broke artist who wants to participate but can't afford it, you agree to do a photo shoot in exchange for a morning of zip lining and obstacle courses. Both the theater and Loon Mountain Resorts got publicity photos from the morning the company dressed up in ridiculous costumes and got strapped into harnesses for the zip line adventure course. We had a blast, so it was a win/win situation for all. Now I've got to figure out what it will take for a kayak trip!

The People
--- The best part of Lincoln is the people. The locals have really embraced us this summer. The waitress at the Burger place knows we have to be in and out in under an hour, the owner of The Gypsy cafe gives us leftovers after big events, and the theater patrons have gone above and beyond by inviting us over for dinners and relaxation. The audiences at our shows are lively and appreciative, and the company is wonderful.

As quirky as Lincoln is, it's a pretty neat place to spend the summer, especially if you get to do what you love the whole time. I'll be here for approximately six weeks more, and I'm sure there will be plenty of stories to tell as the season continues.


Grace Be With You,
Lindsey Shea

Magnolia in the Mountains: A summer adventure

It’s been a really long time since I’ve written a blog.

My initial goal for blogging was to document my adventures in New York City. As adventures became fewer and further between, and as I got settled into city life, I didn’t have much to write about that didn’t just fit into a Facebook status update or a picture on Instagram.

HOWEVER, yesterday marked the beginning of a new adventure, and I’m thinking the stories are going to start flowing again.

As most of you know, I am spending my summer in Lincoln, New Hampshire, at the Papermill Theater, North Country Center for the Arts (feel free to look us up on Facebook or check out the website: www.papermilltheatre.org ) On Monday we start 2 weeks of Broadway Bound kids camps, and after that I will be performing in The Sound of Music, My Way: A Tribute to Frank Sinatra, and a few themed cabarets.

Yesterday was travel day. Katherine helped me lug two 50lb bags onto the subway and over to JFK airport where I caught a flight to Boston. After landing and waiting 4 hours in the baggage claim area, I boarded a bus to Lincoln, New Hampshire. Upon arrival I was greeted by one of our directors was shuttled to the opening night reception of one of the other shows in rep this summer.

Wow, ok, so jumping right in.

After meeting the company I was taken to my “home” for the summer: The Penguin Ski Club. Apparently Lincoln, New Hampshire is a great little ski town in the winter. But what happens to all of those ski lodges in the summer, you might ask. Well, throwing a bunch of twenty-something-year old actors into them seems like a great way to use the space. Really though, this place is kind of crazy. My roommate and I have 8 bunk beds in our room… just for the two of us. There are community bathrooms, kitchens, and tons of places to chill-out. I’m currently sitting in a basement lounge area with ski posters all over the wall and an odd assortment of chairs and couches. There’s also no air conditioning in the entire building. Fortunately, there are plenty of fans to go around and the basement is quite cool. I kind of feel like I’m camping… It’s neat though.

Today I got up and went grocery shopping then came home to put on my red, white, and blue to join the town’s Independence Day Parade. The theater had a float so we pranced down the street waving and yelling and sweating our innards out. If being in a small-town parade in New England doesn’t put you in a patriotic mood, I don’t know what will.

So now I’m just relaxing after a few hours in the pool down the road. Tonight, FIREWORKS! It feels a little bit like a vacation so far, but I know the work will begin soon and rest will be a commodity. I couldn’t possibly be more excited though. It should be a good summer!

More to come, obviously. Next time I might even tell you the story of how I booked this job. We’ll see. ;)

I hope you all enjoyed your Fourth of July.

Grace be with you,

 Lindsey Shea