Thesps R Us

On Friday 7th September, having recently returned from my run at the Edinburgh Fringe, I got my first chance to audition for a professional, as well as perform in a one day festival down in Hove. Of course my tummy was doing flips, and of course my tongue decided that now was the time to stick to the roof of my mouth, and of course my brain decided that mass panic was the order of the day. Nerves are natural (I hope) so as far as I could I just embraced them. I turned up to Hove Methodist Church to meet Marcia King. I had met her once before for coffee in London (at Peter Jones' darling) and out of the blue she had invited me to this audition and performance process. It was a bold move on her part, since she had never seen me perform, so I hope I inspired enough confidence that she felt able to take that punt.

So I enter the beautiful church, and launch headfirst into the audition process. Singing has never been my forte, primarily because I have such a deep voice that finding any female song that suits me proves an almost impossible task. So, instead of being sensible and safe, I decided to pick 'As long as he needs me' from Oliver. A very big and very famous song. Great. Thankfully Marcia was not too scary, and it - apparently - went quite well. Perhaps a career change to Musical Theatre is in order?! (ha I think not!). I then performed my monologues, one written by herself that I would be performing the very next day, and one I wrote myself for a comedy sketch troupe, Quinoa. Both went down well, and I even extracted a few laughs from Marcia with my 'Waitrose erotic fiction' monologue, as she declared herself a Waitrose shopper (who would have guessed in Hove?!). Finally she asked me to do some dancing. Yes. That's right. Mortifying. Thank god I recalled in the depths of my mind what a step-ball-change was, and once she stopped me kicking like a footballer and starting kicking like a dancer, she was happy.

Then an onslaught of 3 hours of intensive rehearsals began as I met the rest of the performers, two of which were genuine luvvies who had appeared on the television, don't you know. They turned out to be exceedingly lovely, offering support, advice, and a general calming air. It did to some extent feel as if I had come home. That evening, after I had thoroughly worked my character shoes off, I went for dinner with a dear friend, who just so happened to live in Brighton. The chance to dress up and wind down was much appreciated as Rupert and I donned our bold florals and headed to a delightful vegetarian restaurant, my father (chaperone for the day) in tow. Though our patterns clashed, our conversation flowed, and quickly the hours melted away until we realised we still hadn't been served our main course at quarter to ten! But we did get delightful fare eventually, and I didn't have to resort to eating my arm, so all's well that ends well. We parted ways and I returned to our hotel to get some shut eye, try and restore a sore throat, and generally prepare myself for the unknown that lay ahead.

Saturday morning was the set up for Hove Lagoon Fest, a festival opened (supposedly) by Fatboy Slim, with David Walliams in attendance, trying to raise money for Hove lagoon. Most of the stalls were selling goods, but ours was selling experience. A small, makeshift, pay on the door and definitely outdoor theatre. With tentage on all sides but a hedge on the back (tentage is a word introduced to me by the rather fabulous and thespy Marcia). The wind was blowing, it even rained, and noise was flooding us from all sides. But like true troopers, we actors soldiered on, our two performances both being sold out, with audiences - generally - engaged, and even sometimes laughing. I performed a rousing speech on women's suffrage, selecting my targets in the audience, trying to spy those who would most get behind my cause.

I ended up having a great deal of fun despite all odds stacked well and truly against us. I made some thespy friends, two of whom - as I said - had spent many years in the industry, so had sage words of advice for me. I hope to keep in contact with them. Marcia also wants to continue to support my 'budding' career, as she called it, in fact suggesting that one day she could see me at the RSC. Quite the compliment! Since we had a drive home, my father and I had to slip off rather nifty, and I very nearly slept all the way home, so exhausted was I. So my first foray into professional theatre was seemingly a success, I networked with the best of them, and certainly gave my all. Looking forward eagerly to the next opportunity that may be waiting round the corner.