RADA: Ok so I told
myself I wouldn’t write the blog entry about this year’s RADA audition until a
couple of days afterwards/when I hear if I have a recall or not…
But I’m really bored.
So here you go:
I woke up pretty early, wanting to get out of the house at a decent time
and get to RADA in enough time to sit down and relax a bit (maybe looking through
some notes and things) before the start of the audition. If it hadn’t been for
three absurdly packed trains in a row passing through Earlsfield, none of which
I managed to get on to, I would probably have been the first one there. As it
was, I was still fairly early (which was more than can be said for my audition
last year…) and used the time in hand to have a look through some of the things
I’d brought with me, as well as going to the toilet for the first of what
turned out to be three visits in total (I’m happy to report that the toilets all
performed admirably and passed my stringent testing with flying colours).
Nine o’clock came, and Sally Power appeared to guide us up to the boardroom place where we had been taken last
year. Having mentally prepared myself for her speech this year (see previous
entry on the subject) I felt relatively calm and unfazed by it all this time
around. I smiled smugly to myself as the majority of the other people with me
managed to whip themselves up into a bit of a panic about everything when Ms
Power left the room briefly, despite the fact that she seemed a lot friendlier this time around than I had remembered (though maybe that was just because this time I was ready for what she had to say).
Conversations like this were sprouting up all around me:
Conversations like this were sprouting up all around me:
“When my mate’s
sister’s friend auditioned here she got stopped after her first line and told that they’d heard enough and that she could
leave!”
“They didn’t
even let her get past her first line?!?”
“OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Etcetera.
I just ignored most of it, and listened to the one voice of reason who
reassured everybody that the panels at RADA were really nice and friendly
(which they were last year, and were this time around too), and tried to focus
on my own preparation.
We all got taken over to the other building on Chenies Street (I still haven’t managed to see a single
rehearsal room in the main building!) and we were told we would be auditioned
in two groups (i.e. half of us would go to one panel, half to another) but one
person at a time per panel. Pretty standard stuff, and thankfully, unlike last
year, I wasn’t the first one up (I was second to bottom on one of the two lists).
So we all waited around in a group in a room in the other building, having been
led over there by a lovely Irish student of the school whose calming voice
really helped with the nerves!
As we waited, the other auditionees slowly started talking more about
their various exploits – I tried to ignore most of what they were saying and
just focus on preparing myself. I found myself standing up periodically and
doing the “Rubber Chicken” dance (if you don’t know, don’t ask…) as quietly as
possible, to keep my energy up, and reading my various notes over and over to
myself – so much so that I’m pretty sure the other people thought I was
actually running lines or something (oh no I wasn’t, not this year, definitely
not this year…). But despite my best efforts, I couldn’t be antisocial forever,
and various, slightly hesitant, conversations soon got started. It transpired
that one of the girls in our group, who was, like me, on a gap year, had just
gained a place at Drama Centre for this coming September – one of only two
people so far this year, apparently. She was really nice and friendly but I
could see just from the way she looked why drama schools would want her – she
had an attractive, but mature, look about her, despite her age, and spoke
really confidently; I bet her speeches were brilliant.
“Some people, eh?” I thought to myself, as I shook my head wistfully…
Anyway, that was enough jealousy on my part – it wasn’t doing me any
good, and it would be better to focus on my own speeches than anyone else’s. I
did some more warming up and note-reading and thinking to myself about my
characters, and then the Irish girl came in and told me to come through. I was
pretty damn pleased it was her who took me through and not the guy who had been
calling through the people in the other half of our group, because a few
minutes previously he had poked his head round the door and said in a really
deep, intimidating voice to one of the girls, “Come forth – to your DOOM!”. I
am not joking.
But I went through, with the Irish girl, dropped my bag off just inside
the door to the room as I had been told to do, and went to greet the panel.
From the moment I stepped in they seemed really friendly and totally at odds
with the incredibly formal feel that the actual school building seems to have. We
chatted about my gap year, the plays I had seen recently, and then they asked
me what speech I’d like to do first, before asking me to go to the back of the
room and do my two speeches, which I’ll get to in a minute.
The interview went well, I thought. I gave a good account of myself,
taking care to point out that I was no longer at school (“Good heavens, no!”)
and that I had done a lot since last
auditioning there. The extensive interview preparation seemed to have worked,
or at least it certainly felt that way; it was definitely a million miles
better than my misfiring attempts at informed, coherent conversation were last
year, anyway. So at least that was out of the way, then, and I could focus on
the speeches. As I said earlier, they asked me to go right to the back of the
room, and this did have a somewhat disconcerting effect when I started my
Shakespeare, as the room seemed to echo around me like a swimming pool. I think I could still hear my first speech
when I started the second one.
Anyway, they both went pretty well, I thought. Probably on par with, if
not better than at RWCMD, though as I have said before it’s near-impossible to
judge. I breathed a sigh of relief to myself. “It’s over! It’s all done. I did
the speeches well, I interviewed well. I can go home and eat a toastie and be
happy now.”
BUT WAIT.
“Harry, would you mind if we saw your Proteus speech as well, please?”
…
…
WHAAAAAAAAT???????
I’ve never been asked to do my
third speech, at any of my auditions, ever. What could this mean??? Sally Power
did mention earlier on that they could ask to see it, and that it literally
meant nothing at all, whatsoever, and that to read anything into it would be an
almost criminal offence, but still…
I reasoned, later on, that at least being asked for my third speech
meant one thing: I couldn’t have been apocalyptically bad in my other two
speeches, otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered asking for the third one, as it
was bound to be no better than the first two – if you see what I mean.
Anyway. I took my time readying myself, as they said, and delivered a
somewhat less polished speech than my first two, but nonetheless, I enjoyed it,
which I think is the main thing for a Shakespeare speech a lot of the time, and
I think it came across pretty decently overall.
When I finished, they briefly called me back over to sit down again, and
asked me where else I was applying to. I mentioned LAMDA, Guildhall and GSA,
but for some reason just didn’t mention RWCMD. I was incredibly aware at the
time that I was LYING to the RADA
teachers but oh well. I think I just subconsciously wanted to seem like a more
attractive prospect for them and didn’t want them to know that I’d been
rejected from anywhere this year, being the juvenile little shit that I am…
Also that maybe if I named more places it could make them think I was just some
drama school maniac who was booking up auditions left, right and centre, without
much care for where exactly I was applying, which could be seen as panicky/immature…
Or perhaps I’m just a pathological liar – I don’t know.
And that was that. I shook their hands, thanked them, and left feeling
pretty positive about the whole thing, looking forward to my egg, chorizo and
tomato toastie when I got home. Looking back on the morning now, I’m pleased
with it overall, but I don’t really want to make any sort of predictions here,
as we know how unrelated positive feelings and actual results can be.
So that was it, then. Another audition over, and no more first rounds
scheduled until April now (unless GSA get off their lazy bums and get back to
me soon, that is).
Anyway. An update will follow, in time…
(Oh, and the toastie was magnificent, thank you.)
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