Breaking Rules On Purpose

The art of standing out.

Long before I understood that I was queer, I navigated the world of regional theatre auditions.

Auditioning, the process that help hopeful actors find acting jobs. In my high school and undergrad theatre training, I learned how to pick a monologue, how to choose a song, how to slate, how to prepare my materials and myself for the audition. At that point in my life, I understood auditioning to be a skill based activity rather than an act of personal artistic expression.

Before I knew who I was or how I might fit in a story on a stage with other humans, I was being trained to present myself to strangers. You could say that I have been trained for this my entire life.

I remember my junior year in undergrad when I auditioned in pants for the first time. I had picked and prepared a classical monologue that had some element of begging. It was probably Hamlet, and the monologue was probably an Ophelia one. As a naturally physical human (read: character actor), I wanted to get on my knees in the monologue, but the dress or skirt option that is an ingénue staple, left me nervous about sharing my underwear with strangers.

And so, without consulting anyone, I wore pants and a shirt.

This was me taking a practical step to solve a much more complex problem.

I had no idea what this choice would signal the various people I would encounter on the other side of the casting tables. The pants choice got some feedback, and not all of it was positive. The monologue, I was told, was an ingénue, and I was not dressed as such. At 20, I was being trained that I did not have enough artistic agency or understanding to make the choice I was making. Yes, I see how I was not the right one to play an Ophelia, but what I didn’t understand was bigger than that: I was breaking rules.

Social rules. Gender rules.

I look back on that time in my life, though I wish I could say it was artistic hootspha and genius, it was very practical choice. That same large audition gathering in Florida would open my eyes to smart creative choices that others made when they auditioned. I hated that we entered the audition room in groups of 20-30, but was intrigued to see my then boyfriend from another school do a song (“I will survive”) as a monologue. Now, he was very funny, handsome, and quite talented to begin with, but his artistic bravery lit the room up, resulting in what might have been the only standing ovation I have ever seen at an audition.

I was proud of him. And, I learned something really important that day.

Brave choices (broken rules) + well executed presentation = GOLD

He had offers coming in that afternoon.

I had callbacks, too, but the feel was different.

We met later that night after I had a dance callback (if you can sing, they will invite you to the dance part-which was my weakest skill). Sitting at the conference hotel bar in Miami, sharing a platter of nachos, I told him about how I sat in hallway after hallway filled with every version of me imaginable: tall me, skinny me, not white me, blonde me, older me. I told him about how, even though I was thin for my frame, I was asked to drop 20 lbs to play Peter Pan (in a month). He shared his experience having great conversations with the directors and heads of theatres about projects they want him on. As a collaborator.

We were having VERY different experiences.

Yes, he was a rare talent, and a man.

Yes, I was a talented female in a sea of talented females.

However, artistically, the theatres he met with treated him as an artist. Not a tool.

He was a treated as a peer, and I was treated as an option (one of many).

His bold choice was a gamble. It broke the rules of how monologues are taught to be performed and from what material, and yet, the outcome of breaking those rules pushed his career forward, even at 21.

Talent sees talent.

I was a tease of ALMOST good artistic choices packaged in practical pants. Would it have been different for me had I gone all in on the full gender switch and prepared a Hamlet monologue instead? I think it might have!

At that conference, I learned that the rules are great for training, but bad for connection and collaboration. This is true in almost everything I do now, this process of learning the roles/rules, and then creating my own thing.

Is it practical for me? Usually.

Is it brave and innovative? THAT is the ticket to an audience who can’t look away.

The world is full of copycats, trends, and memes.

We people who to be so you that we can’t look away.

So, brilliant one, have you been feeling unseen? Have you faded into the background?

AND are you ready to break the rules in a NOVEL way? One that gets standing ovations and connection calls?

Take time to journal about this:

Breaking rules- which ones do you follow or not?

What bold choices can you make? Are you making?

I’d love to hear from you. Tell me your pants stories, and I promise to reply.

I have a special visibility/presentation coaching package that I am offering folks right now. If you’re hiding under a bushel and wondering why folks aren’t calling? Let’s chat.