What 'Reality Shows' us - thoughts on The Voice

Whose Twitter feed or Sunday paper wasn’t buzzing with comments about BBC’s The Voice final this weekend?  The coveted Saturday night entertainment slot was filled once again with budding singers; less “singing for their supper” and more “singing during mine.”  Thousands of contestants had been whittled down to only 4 by celebrity judges and were competing for a record deal.

As I have previously stated, nay shouted, on this blog – I am not a huge fan of reality TV especially when it infringes onto the theatre industry.  (Here are my thoughts last year on the search for Jesus on The Huffington Post http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/daniella-gibb/jesus-christ-superstar-is-coming-_b_1649164.html ) But I have relaxed my past opinions after supporting some colleagues and watching friends navigate this new terrain.  I detest the producers, hosts, judges and morals of these shows but I truly admire the courage and skill of the contestants.

They sing live every week and leave themselves open to opinion and ridicule.  On a slow news week they could be plastered over a weekend tabloid without any experience in how to deal with the gutter press.  I can’t handle the internet forums where people post “informed opinions” on West End performers’ talent and have panic attacks of self doubt before going on for an understudy - so I would not be a happy contender.  I just don’t have the bottle.

The reality of these ‘reality shows’ is that it is now a viable way to pursue your dreams.  It may not be an option for us all – but for those with self-belief and determination, why not put yourself out there?  Ernest Hemingway said to his son,

“You make your own luck...You know what makes a good loser?  Practice.”

And I have come to think that maybe waiting for the right audition, big break or practising hard may not be enough.  Self-promotion is part of our job but there is a fine line between maintaining an online presence and ‘tweeting’ clips of you singing “On My Own” to Trevor Jackson.  If you don’t want to sit in the ensemble for the rest of your life, how do you get to the big time when that the “working your way up” route is obsolete? 

People always say that success in this industry boils down to luck (along with a little talent and having a casting director for a Mum) but ultimately you need luck on your side.  But should you wait for it or go out and snatch it?  

Genuine voice -  genuine man

Having worked with the wonderful Matt Henry (The Voice finalist 2013) for the majority of last year, we all said how insanely talented he was and wished we could hear him sing something other than ‘Schadenfreude’ (although it was awesome!)  He went for it and look what happened?!  He is gigging, will get record deals and if he ever comes back to us folk in the West End, casting directors will be asking for him not putting him through a dance call at Dance Attic.

We’ve seen the success of reality show contestants such as the lovely Daniel Boys, Lee Mead, Connie Fisher and Samantha Barks (anyone heard of her??!) – these shows do open doors that our usual careers won’t allow.  I have shared dressing-rooms and stages with many uber-talented people who have dreamt of landing lead roles or record deals, but these stay aspirations.  The sad fact is that nowadays you need to gain notoriety before attaining these dreams.  People need to have heard of you if they are going to part with £70 to hear you sing.  Do we need to think outside the box and move with the times?

Like I said, this reality cannot be for everybody.  It certainly isn’t an option for me – whether it’s through lack of talent, bravery or just having a face for radio rather than TV.  But the lesson behind the glitz and glamour seems valid – only you can make your dreams happen (and perhaps sometimes you have to go out on a limb and sing on the telly to do it.) 

And I think I can safely say on behalf of the Avenue Q lot, “Matt, we are so proud of you.”

"Here's your keys!" - to your new beginning

I'm ready for my close up - auditioning for movie musicals

Every time I have an audition for a film, I find myself having to go in the slot after the same West End starlet.  It happened again this week.

Lights, camera, aaaaaaargh!

Let me back track for a sec and give you some context; firstly, I say ‘every time’ but I have only ever had 2 film auditions, both for musicals.  You see, I am so deeply entrenched in the musical theatre casting bracket that I've never had an audition for a TV series, Casualty or even Doctors (I know, anyone who even thinks about being an actor has appeared in Doctors.)  So although auditioning for films may be an average day for some actors, for me it is the ‘once in a blue moon’ exciting opportunity that makes me feel unprepared for the unknown.

But both times I have had to follow the audition of this West End starlet who is both highly successful and highly lovely.  Both her height and her credentials dwarf me, so I can’t help but feel like the unknown support act coming on after the main event. At normal auditions you see your peers at similar places in your careers, but both times I have been at these film auditions I have been surrounded by the West End elite and I am sure my presence is some kind of admin error.

A first-round audition is fairly similar for both stage and screen musicals, you sing at a panel of strangers.  One difference is that for stage you often have to bring your own material and in my ‘huge experience’ of movie castings (yep, I totally say that in a L.A accent) you are given material from the project.  Oh, and there is a camera aimed at your face.

My face fits nicely in the theatrical world; I can never disguise what I am thinking and my eyebrows have a life of their own.  My expressions are large, animated and can be read “from the gods!”  But what works in a West End chorus line translates on screen as somebody “gurn-ing” and probably on some kind of amphetamine.   

I am ready for my close-up......what do ya mean you don't want it?

In my audition for the Les Miserables movie, Tom Hooper asked for the “Lovely Ladies” section but trimmed right back to just show the intention in our eyes.  For those of you who’ve seen the show, you will know that the lovely ladies are highly grotesque and animated.  We are told to be like broken dolls with loads of arm movements to create spiky pictures.  So I needed some kind of theatrical strait-jacket for the audition as my muscle memory kicked in and my arms wanted to repeatedly leap forwards in grand gestures!

My audition this week was for an upcoming musical film adaptation and again I was called in for a grotesque and larger than life character.  (Yes, I have noticed the theme here and I am fully aware that my 'pretty juvenile lead' days are over, sob!)  Anyway, this was my challenge; did I go in and give a naturalistic performance suggesting my mean-ness from my eyes?  Or should I go for it, knowing that even on screen this character would have to be fairly grotesque.  Or a non-committal blend of the two - mean eyes and the odd arm flap?  I have no idea what I actually did because I was in and out quicker than a Donmar Warehouse season sells out.  Suddenly I was back in the waiting room wondering what on earth just happened!  

My barbie's legs fell off when I attempted the box splits,
 it ain't right!

And while I’m talking about the waiting room - just a quick final thought; – why oh why do casting directors insist on making mere mortal actors audition in dance studios?  Auditioning after the starlet is demoralising enough but to be surrounded by leotard-clad dancers who are nonchalantly chatting whilst sitting in the box splits, makes you want to leap out of the nearest window. 

As if auditions aren’t traumatic enough!

Reality Check - When the bubble bursts

I had lunch with one of my “normal” friends the other day, you tknow those 9-5 people who have a 2 day weekend, have managed to achieve house ownership and don’t count out their pennies for a box of teabags.  One of the perks of “resting” at the moment is that I have lots of free time to see these wonderful people who often disappear from my life when I’m embroiled in an acting contract.  We even got to meet on a Saturday afternoon, when my body clock suggests I should be on a train heading to a vocal warm-up but instead I was in my home town, having a normal life with normal friends and having a right ol’ laff!  Bliss.

It is not often I’m able to advise my friends on work-related issues because our working worlds are so different – my knowledge of Anthony Van Laast’s choreography for some reason doesn’t lend itself to the corporate ladder.  But on this occasion my friend was having a tough time adjusting to being back home after a short contract abroad.  The phrases about her “new colleagues soon becoming like family” and being in “her own little world” rang very true and my actress-self recognised those feelings of dislocation when you suddenly find yourself landed back into reality after a trip away.

When actors are doing a job, whether in town or on tour, you do create a world for yourselves.  Your dressing-room buddies very swiftly become best-mates and the routine becomes your reality.  You become embroiled in the day-to-day dramas and your outside world can get forgotten.  This is even more the case when you are on tour; being away from normality forces you to make a ‘new normal’ for yourself, re-creating friends and family from your new cast mates.  Everything is heightened, from emotions to relationships, and you surround yourself with this new normal as a way of dealing with being away from home.  I wrote a blog last year about relationships and affairs on tour inspired by intense circumstances that can make them come about.  http://daniellagibb.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/read-all-about-it-what-goes-on-tour.html

It doesn’t affect everyone but it can so easily happen.  The phrases “what goes on tour stays on tour” and “the tour bubble” came about because you really are in a bubble; a pretty, colourful membrane surrounding your reality, floating around without responsibility or worries that once it’s popped has gone forever.

A contract is a really special time, in part because of this bubble and because it is a rest away from being a real actor i.e. unemployed and anxiously waiting for something, anything.  Although my friend hasn’t come home to unemployment, her bubble has burst and she is trying to re-assemble her old reality whilst missing that protective bubble of care-free fun.  It is confusing, un-settling and makes you prone to rose-tinted glasses nostalgia.  The same transition happens when it's the other way round.  In acting your world can change in an instant - a friend this week got cast in a Bill Kenwright musical (cue groans of recognition from theatre folk) and within 3 days he had to start the new job.  Commitments re-arranged, life packed up and thrust into a new existence.

It is weird when your bubble bursts – you land back into the world you left and everyone else has been carrying on without you.  They don’t fully comprehend those “you had to be there” moments because the experience didn’t happen to them.  Is it possible to fit back in?  Well of course so, you may not be exactly the same person you were when you left but no-one changes that much.   There is a reason why people cannot live in bubbles all of the time – just look at Glinda in Wicked!  

An uber-talented West End leading man once said to me as I bemoaned not being able to live in New York after coming back from an exhilarating trip “but the reality is you couldn’t live in the shiny bit of Manhattan and you’d end up on the outskirts still having to pay your water bill.”  The fact that he was telling me whilst dressed in the famous long coat and hat of Javert and I was the 23 year old starry-eyed street urchin somehow made this life reality more poignant in our make believe world.  He had lived it and done it and despite still wearing the hat and coat at night he was aware of the joys of a real life during the day.  He knew that bubbles are transparent and that you can always see the outside world from within them.  I’ll never forget that lesson.

Remember how much you loved bubbles as a kid?  How magic was it that they just appeared as you shouted “again, again” to an adult slowing going purple from the constant puffing! A life without bubbles is bland and boring and we need to enjoy those colourful orbs when they choose to decorate our skies.  Their ability to pop at any moment enhances their beauty because we look forward to their return.  If we had them all the time they would become mundane and we’d be coughing up soapy water.

OK, enough of the drawn out metaphors, you get my point!  Enjoy the great touring experiences or breaks away from your day to day life and accept the few weeks discomfort when you try to fit back in.  Because you have to come back, otherwise you’ll just be a person in a frilly frock singing top C’s floating around in a bubble and that can be quite a lonely experience if you’re stuck up there forever.