Heading to the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland

As I left the farm on Friday afternoon, I got the ever familiar sinking feeling in my stomach – an utterly clichéd expression that exactly expresses how you feel when fear suddenly washes over the sides of you. Besides that and one teary moment after reading some lovely words from my dear sister, I had no real dramatic change to my emotions as I left for Glasgow and a year of postgraduate discovery. Perhaps I have just cultivated a greater talent for repression, but I like to think that after traveling more, auditioning more, being more independent, my anxiety about these kinds of situations has naturally and maturely decreased.

At the airport, I met a completely different individual going through much the same transition as me. And by met, I obviously mean eavesdropped on and watched peripherally, because introductions and small talk are not my forte. He too was traveling abroad (to London) to go to graduate school (for computer science). He was the sort of person who looks much older than they should but seems much younger than their actual age. It seems painfully stereotypical, but he was short, dated and seriously balding with a slight lisp, glasses and a passion for computers. He was also, as far as I could tell, absolutely sweet and polite and radiating nervous energy, so much so that I started questioning whether or not I was at the right gate, what if I missed my flight, had I packed my wallet…

His mother was seated across from him, although she wasn’t traveling herself. They spent much of the time anxiously checking the boarding times, and texting or calling friends and family to say goodbye. The mother was quite sociable and upbeat, chatting with the man next to her and keeping her son’s spirits up, although at one point when he was rummaging in the bag on the seat next to her, she raised and tilted her cheek and requested a kiss, which he dutifully and lovingly bestowed – a small reassurance for both of them that everything would be all right.

As we got closer and closer to boarding, he proffered a joke about how this decision to move to London for graduate school was probably a terrible mistake. The joke was delivered in that watery, half-whispered way that people use when they’re actually completely serious. It was painful to hear this last desperate cry for help. You could tell that all he wanted in that moment was for his mother to say yes, yes it was and wrap him up in her arms and take him home to familiar, to comfort, to safe. She, of course, didn’t. She did exactly what she should, and told him she was proud of him and that this was a great brave thing for him to do. She continued to utter these words of support as we boarded. He was behind me in line, so I was privy to the increasing panic in his breath as we got closer and closer. As I handed over my ticket, I heard him burst into tears and could feel the heavy silence of his mother letting him go. The fact that I could no longer see him somehow made his emotions feel like mine, like how surround sound makes you feel like you’re in the movie. I hurried onto the plane; I couldn’t handle being near him anymore. I selfishly hoped that he wouldn’t be sitting next to me on the flight, knowing I couldn’t offer him the reassurance I knew he’d need from a girl going through much the same. What do I know about what risks are worth it, if we’ve made the right decision, if life really does sort itself out for the best? He ended up sitting far across the aisle from me, and when I accidentally caught his eye, he gave me a little nervous wave. A last confirmation – I got on this plane, like you, I’m here, and we’re all going somewhere.

I thought about him throughout the whole flight. In the months leading up to me leaving, I’ve had countless people commend me for what a risk I’m taking, how brave I am, how proud they are. And yes, it is a risk to move to Glasgow for a year, pursue something that is so difficult and exposing with people I’ve never met. And I’m also thankful that I’m well adjusted enough to be able, at twenty-four, to travel alone and start over without too much emotional turmoil or fear.  However, he is truly taking risk, is truly brave. When I saw him get into his seat, I was proud that he actually got on the plane.

So, he shall be my inspiration for this year. To put myself in situations where I go to the very precipitous edge of my comfort, not just halfway there. To take risks. Not things that are commonly understood as risks, but things I know are risks for me. Here’s to watery jokes, panicked breaths and going somewhere.

RCS Result!

A week after my Royal Conservatoire of Scotland audition, I received this email. The conditional offer was based on me sending in a transcript from my university so they could confirm that I'm eligible for the MA. So, basically...I got in!

ACT, TISCH, Yale & Royal Conservatoire of Scotland Auditions (February 4, 2014)

In the Grad School Auditioning Week from Hell, this was the Grad School Auditioning Day From Hell. With four auditions in a row, I knew things would be bumpy. The day started off uneventfully enough with my audition for ACT at 10am. They were running slightly behind but the wait wasn't too long. You are auditioned by two people, Melissa Smith (the conservatory director) and Jeffrey Crockett (head of voice). I went in, introduced myself, did my two pieces and then was interviewed briefly (I believe the only question they asked was, what kind of theatre interests you? A broad question which I used to talk about the touring production of Prudencia Hart I saw last year, which has really stuck with me. Luckily, Melissa had also seen it!). They post their list for end of the day callbacks after the morning session and after the afternoon session, so I only had to wait until about 1pm to find out.

Next was my TISCH audition, right down the hall, at 11am. We had a short orientation session in the hallway after filling out some paperwork, and then got split into two groups for two different auditioners (we all know my feelings about that set up). I went in, did my two pieces, and then the woman who was auditioning me (too much of a blur to remember who she is...) asked me a few questions about my Shakespeare and then had me re-do the end of it. I walked out, waited until the end of the hour to hear the callback list, which I was not on.

LUNCH BREAK! In which I awkwardly ran into Jeffrey Crockett. Knowing that probably he was at lunch with Melissa deciding who from the morning session they wanted to call back for the end of the day. Luckily, as I found out after lunch, it was MEEEE! (And other people...) Unfortunately, their callback time was at 3pm, right smack dab in the middle of my Yale and RCS auditions. I had to wait around until I caught Jeffrey and asked him what I should do. He said just come after, as soon as I could, so I could jump in with the group. The thought of this kind of loosey goosey arrangement panicked me a bit.

The panic continued as my Yale audition was scheduled for 2pm, and yet they had not shown up! (Horrible weather was causing flight delays -- great timing, Mother Nature!). They had to completely reschedule their morning auditions, but luckily showed up a bit before 2pm and started setting up. Although, this still meant my audition was delayed, and my stomach churned faster and faster the farther behind they got, as I had my audition for RCS in a DIFFERENT HOTEL at 3:30pm. I finally got in and did my two monologues and was thanked and told to check the callback list at the end of the hour. I waited around until the last possible second, waiting for the end of the hour callbacks (which were actually going to be held at 8 or 9pm that night, thanks to all the rescheduling and delays) before I gave up and ran to a bus, trying to get to my next audition in time.

I showed up at my RCS audition, which was at The Westin, about ten minutes late, for which I apologized profusely. It all seemed very casual, however, so it was no big deal, although meant I didn't actually get in for my audition until around 4pm (thus complicating my ACT end of the day callback situation, but I just took a deep breath and tried to focus on being present at RCS). The audition took place in a HUGE room, in front of Mark Saunders, the head of the MA program. After chit chatting a bit about my resume, I did my two pieces and song, after which he stopped me. We worked both of them -- freeing up my movement in the Shakespeare piece, and then containing my emotion for my modern. It was a pretty solid workshop, and he really took the time to talk to me about my opinions and also gave me very solid, strong direction. Then, we sat down and he interviewed me (for quite a long time, I will say). He explained the program a bit while I asked more specific questions, as well as asking me why I chose the pieces I chose, why I want to go back to grad school, what I felt my weaknesses were...it was really the most rigorous interview that I had. But it felt really, really good. Yes, it is terrifying to have such an involved audition, but it is so wonderful to know that you're getting a good chance to show them what you can do. Your whole possible future at the school doesn't hang on ten minutes that are over before you know it.

So, I left RCS feeling proud and happy, feelings which mostly dissipated as I immediately freaked out about making it to the ACT end of day callback. After missing the bus, I decided upon a peculiar running/walking/hopping combination to get me back to the Hyatt Regency and, hopefully, to my end of day callback! I was there outrageously late, and sweaty. After sitting outside the closed room, I managed to talk to Jeffrey and Melissa. Yes, the callbacks were over. Should I come back tomorrow? No, that seems too complicated. So, instead, I had my end of the day callback alone with them. It involved a vocal/breath warmup with Jeffrey (one-on-one), and then a cold read of some dialogue from a play with Melissa (one-on-one). We ran through it a few times and also discussed what was going on in the scene. Then, I did a third piece for them (I chose one of my other Shakespeare pieces) and that was that.

I checked the Yale end of day callback list to see if I had made it through, and no such luck. I have to say, I was a little grateful that I wasn't going to have to stick around until 8pm to do a callback. I dragged my weary bones back to my home, where I promptly collapsed in front of the TV. Hell day, over.