Wrong Order

Kevin and Inda share their random thoughts...usually about Bush. Or acting.
I was at an audition yesterday. I had two auditions and a callback, actually. God is good. How that happened is a story in itself. It's a "things happen for a reason" story. Yeah, another time.The reason for this blog is that I had this audition and I realized that the clients are never clear. As a matter a fact, they are usually contradictory with their direction and what they want. Now, mind you, I am saying clients not casting directors ('cause N'Word needs to work, nahmean?!). And it's across the board -- Chicago and L.A. clients. Here is the direction that I got today: "We need Disney, but sincere, not camp." Yeah, actors get directions like that all the time. "Okay we need her to be loose, but she's not a slut." "We need him to be intelligent, but stupid." "He's black, but he's allergic to chicken."- Kevin
I went into a coffee/breakfast/brunch restaurant today after an audition. It's nice to treat yourself to a little something after an audition, so at least you feel like somebody's saying, "Good job."I asked for a yummy chocolate mocha coffee kiss thingy... with soy milk. Five minutes later the server apologized for the delay and told me that she was just waiting for the steamer to get fixed. Another seven minutes later she apologized again and said that it looked like the steamer wouldn't be working at all. In that case, in ordered a coffee. No big deal. Oh, and with soy milk on the side. Then the server apologized that they were out of soy milk.Didn't she know this when I ordered the first drink with soy or was she planning to sneak one by my intestinal tract? Twenty minutes after I'd ordered my yummy drink, I had a cup of tea. It was really good. But it was a bit of a disappointment. I'm still waiting to find out if I booked the audition.- Inda
A woman called my office where I work part-time as a Realtor. Since I was on floor duty, I had the pleasure of taking her call. Her request: a 3-bedroom house, with a garden, hardwood floors, up to $250,000, needing some cosmetic updates okay, near a library, 2-car garage, up to a 40-minute driving commute to work, and no Mexicans.She really and truly said that she was looking for a house in a White area, with no Mexicans. She didn't just think it or hint at it. She said it. Out loud. And I believe she meant it.I didn't know that there were people bold/careless/stupid enough to say something like that. Unless it's a test. It could have been someone from the Equal Housing department trying to get me to slip up. I didn't, of course. I remembered my discriminatory practices training, and I did my duty as a responsible and ethical Real Estate professional. I was the "source for the source," referring her to the U.S. Census Bureau's website so she could do her own research. I informed her that I could help her once she could provide a specific town or street name in which she'd like to begin her home search. But that call could have just as easily been real. And this woman might really be looking for such a home in such an area.I am amazed and saddened and yet strangely humored by this incident. I hope she finds what she's looking for. I hope I can somehow help her... in several senses of the word "help." I hope to see my friend again some day. Sorry, wrong story. And that caller probably wouldn't even like Zihuatanejo.- Inda Craig-Galván (That's Mexican, by the way.)
I recently saw a sketch comedy show that angered me so much. The only sistah in the show relied so heavily on mugging and making big faces that by the end of the night I wanted to poke my own eyes out. Here's what's in her skill bag: the ooh-lawdy-I'm-so-scared face, the oh-no-you-didn't! face, the aw-hell-no! face, the what-did-he-just-say-to-me? face -- scratch that -- it was the same as the oh-no-you-didn't! face, and then there was the I'm-just-pleased-as-punch-with-myself-so-I'ma-smile-ear-to-ear! face. Made me want to punch her in the face.Several of the White actors in the cast had depth of character, showed layers, made interesting choices and varied the timing of their delivery from one character to the next. That's what is expected of them. There are so many of them doing this work that they have to be really kick-ass and unique in order to stand apart from the over-abundant crowd of White male improvisers. But because the numbers of us doing sketch and improv are so much lower... what? How does that rationale work exactly? As long as we do something that gets the laughs, we're not held to the same acting standards? We just have to mug and make big faces and someone thinks we're funny because that's what Black folks in comedy do? And since there are so few Black women, especially, doing sketch, that somehow becomes our go-to thing? Is it our own fault as performers for doing it in the first place? Or should we blame the audiences for fostering the multiplication of these types of performers by laughing in the first place? Is it The Man's fault for casting that type of actor in comedy? And it's not even just sketch comedy. It's commercials with the sassy, fat Black woman. It's my favorite soap opera with the take-no-jive, angry but sassy, fat Black nurse. Dangit! Where can we draw the line between "I'm Black and this is my unique voice" and "I'm Black... ain't I funny?"I clearly need someone to blame. I felt offended. I felt maddened. I felt the desire to do something. Not just blog about it. But to actually do something. I'm enrolling in an improv acting class next week to work on more of my own characters. I'm going to write more kevINda sketches. I'm taking a theatre company up on their offer to join with them and teach some sketch workshops to actors of color. And, yes, I am blogging. Mugging is not acting. And I realize that blogging is not action. But I needed to vent. Now, I'm going to act.- Inda