Students interested in auditioning for the Jefferson County Academy of Theatre & Dance MUST attend one of the following auditions at the Shades Valley High School Theatre:
Thursday, February 5 (6pm)
Friday, February 6 (6pm)
Saturday, February 7 (9am)
Students must arrive before the call time in order to be seen that day (we will not accept latecomers). Callbacks will be held immediately following the Saturday morning session. Students will be notified if they will be required to attend the callback. While students audition, parents will complete the application. Following the auditions, parents and students are invited to stay for a question-and-answer period. The length of the audition will depend upon the number of students present at each audition.
Students may audition in one or more of the three categories below:
Performers must present one of the four monologues included below. Performers who sing are encouraged to prepare 32 bars of a song from a Broadway musical. Performers who dance are encouraged to present a 1-minute piece of choreographed music in any style.
Technicians and Designers should prepare to present a portfolio of their work. During the audition, these candidates will interview with the faculty. Technicians and designers may also choose to present a monologue from those listed below, and/or 32 bars of a song from a Broadway musical.
Dancers must prepare two 1-minute sequences of choreographed movement in contrasting styles (ballet, jazz, modern, tap, or hip-hop). Dancers may also choose to present a monologue from those listed below, and/or 32 bars of a song from a Broadway musical.
MONOLOGUE 1: from Hamlet, by William Shakespeare
HAMLET: Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier had spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say the whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant. It out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it... Be not too tame, neither. But let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance: that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. For anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it makes the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that i ahve seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that neither having the accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor no man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
MONOLOGUE 2: from The Lesson, by Eugene Ionesco
PROFESSOR: Keep quiet. Remain seated, don't interrupt me... and project the sounds very loudly with all the force of your lungs in conjunction with that of your vocal cords. Like this, look: "Butterfly," "Eureka," "Trafalgar," "Papaya." This way, the sounds become filled with air so that they can fly without danger of falling on deaf ears, which are veritable voids, tombs of sonorities. If you utter several sounds at an accelerated speed, they will automatically cling to each other, constituting thus syllables, words, even sentences, that is to say groupings of various importance, purely irrational assemblages of sounds, denuded of all sense, but for that very reason the more capable of maintaining themselves without danger at a high altitude in the air. By themselves, words charged with significance will fall, weighted down by their meaning, and in the end they always collapse, fall... It takes years and years to learn to pronounce. Thanks to science, we can achieve this in a few minutes. In order to project words, sounds and all the rest, you must realize that it is necessary to pitilessly expel air from the lungs, and make it pass delicately, caressingly, over the vocal cords, which, like harps or leaves in the wind, will suddenly shake, agitate, vibrate, vibrate, vibrate or uvulate, or fricate or jostle against each other, or sibilate, sibilate, placing everything in movemnet, the uvula, the tongue, the palate, the teeth... and the lips... Finally the words come out through the nose, the mouth, the ears, the pores, drawing along with them all the organs that we have named, torn up by the roots, in a powerful, majestic flight, which is none other than what is called, improperly, the voice, whether modulated in singing or transformed into a terrible symphonic storm with a whole procession...
MONOLOGUE 3: from The Actor's Nightmare, by Christopher Durang
ACTOR: Oh don't go. (Pause; smiles uncomfortably at the audience). Maybe someone else will come out in a minute (Pause.) Of course, sometimes people have soliloquies in Shakespeare. Let's just wait a moment more and maybe someone will come. (The lights suddenly change to a dim blue background and one bright, white spot center stage. ACTOR is not standing in the spot.) Oh dear. (ACTOR moves somewhat awkwardly into the spot, decides to do his/her best to live up to the requirements of the moment.) To be or not to be, that is the question. (Doesn't know anymore.) Oh maid! (No response; remembers that actors call for "line.") Line. Line! Ohhh. Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I Whether tis nobler in the mind's eye to kill oneself, or not killing onself, to sleep a great deal. We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our lives are rounded by a little sleep. (The lights change. The spot goes out, and another one comes up stage right. ACTOR moves into it.) Uh, thrift, thrift, Horatio. Neither a borrower nor a lender be. But to thine own self be true. There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. Extraordinary how potent cheap music can be. Out, out, damn spot! I come to wive it wealthily in Padua; if wealthily, then happily in Padua. (Sings.) Brush up your Shakespeare; start quoting him now; Da da... (Lights change again. That spot goes off; another one comes on, center stage, though closer to audience. ACTOR moves into that.) I wonder whose yacht that is. How was China? Very large, China. How was Japan? Very small, Japan. I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all. Line! Line! Oh my God. (Gets idea.) O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because they offend thee, my God, wh art all good and deserving of all my love. And I resolve to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life, Amen. (Friendly.) That's the act of contrition that Catholic schoolchildren say in confession in order to be forgiven their sins. Catholic adults say it too, I imagine. I don't know any Catholic adults. Line! (Explaining.) When you call for a line, the stage manager normally gives you your next line, to refresh your memory. Line! The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain upon the place below, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil. Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well. Get thee to a nunnery. Line. Nunnery. As a child, I was taught by nuns, and then in high school I was taught by Benedictine priests. I really rather liked the nuns, they were sort of warm, though they were fairly crazy too. Line. I liked the priests also. The school was on the grounds of a monastery, and my junior and senior years I spent a few weekends joining in the daily routine of the monastery - prayers, then breakfast, then prayers, then lunch, then prayers, then dinner, then prayers, then sleep. I found the predictability quite attractive. And the food was good. I was going to join the monastery after high school, but they said I was too young and should wait. And then I just stopped believing in all those things, so I never did join the monastery. I became an accountant. I've studied logarithms, and cosine and tangent... (Irritated.) Line! (Apologetic.) I'm sorry. This is supposed to be Hamlet or Private Lives or something, and I keep rattling on like a maniac. I really do apologize. I just don't recall attending a single rehearsal. I can't imagine what I was doing. And also you came expecting to see Edwin Booth and you get me. I really am very embarrassed. Sorry. Line! It's a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done before. It's a far, far better place I go to than I have ever been before. (Sings the alphabet song.) a b c d e f g, h i j k, l m n o p. q r s...
MONOLOGUE 4: from Brontosaurus, by Lanford Wilson
NEPHEW/NEICE: (Straightforward.) I was standing at the side of the house. I don’t remember what I had been doing. I don’t remember anything before, immediately before, or immediately after. I stood for a while and then I went inside. I was standing at the side of the house. I had come from around behind in the shade and was standing in the sun; not doing anything, not going anywhere, just standing at the side of the house in the sun. And the hand of God reached out and touched me. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s abstract, isn’t it? But it’s the easiest way of explaining the feeling. I was standing there, not thinking anything that I would remember. There was a bush on my left and the corner of the house on my right. Instead of just stopping for a while and then moving on, while I was stopped I became aware that my body was changing, or something was happening, physically happening, inside my body. As if all my cells were changing at the same time. Some vibrating sensation through my body that raised me or made me feel like I was physically growing, like a – perhaps a chemical change was occurring. And I started to get scared, but instead of that happening it was gradually like I wasn’t standing there anymore. For a moment it was like I had changed into a gas. I felt I was spreading, thinning out, being led over the world or shown the world. Thinning out to take it all in, to absorb it. Or I was shown what I was. I heard people speaking in languages that I understood but had never heard before, I heard bells – no, I didn’t actually hear anything, but I seemed to know about bells in church towns, in the farm country around small towns where they make wine, in France; and people getting up where it was just beginning to be light, to go to work; people walking on streets, shopping, and small things growing in the wet and shade in rain forests. I didn’t see them, I wasn’t shown them, I Just knew them. Because thinning out, or whatever it was, I became them. An old lady who thought in a language different from the one she spoke, dying in terrible pain in the geriatric ward of a very efficient hospital; twins just being born in the Orient; a boy my age, in India, whose job was to carry the censer with incense, swinging it, in a Catholic church: I didn’t know them, I was them. I was they. They were me. We were all the same stuff, the same regenerating impulse. I just thinned out to mix with it all or to realize what I was, what I had come from, and gradually came back to my own design, my own body. But, of course, I thought about it differently, because it wasn’t mine. I wasn’t me. I was them. I was they. Which is grammatically correct? . . .