Things they don't teach in drama school...

Things they don't teach in drama school...

Drama school is just like the film FAME: acting, singing and dancing every day, emotional, full of laughter, sweat and tears, maybe slightly less use of legwarmers but essentially, it’s exactly the same.

However, when you leave the cosy cocoon and enter the big scary world of being “an actor”, there are a few things that you realise the Professional Studies class should have covered…

Small children will heckle you

A lot of drama graduates will do at least one TIE (Theatre in Education) or panto tour at some point in their career.  The pay and comfort of these tours varies wildly from (a) three people in a Nissan Micra with their entire set & costumes and a box of maps, to (b) being driven around by a stage manager in a cosy, fitted out van.  By and large, these jobs involve getting up VERY EARLY in the morning, driving to a school or care home, being offered a cup of tea, negotiating swing doors and stair cases while carrying your set and trying to locate the school hall, erecting your set, doing a show, re-packing the van and driving to another location (which may or may not be nearby, usually, not) and repeating the same thing all over again.

The best thing about these jobs is the people.  Meeting and hearing stories from people in care homes and sheltered accommodation is a really enriching experience.  At the other end of the scale, children are absolutely the best audience as they are brutally honest.  If it aint funny they don’t laugh.  They also love to join in and offer opinions.  One of my favourite moments was in panto during a “Shall I go into the scary forest” kind of situation. The children started with the "no!" "Don't go!" when one child proclaimed very loudly, "oh don't bother, she's going to go anyway!"  These jobs are really hard work but are a great learning curve and can result in lifelong friendships.

Things learnt:

·         the importance of a vocal warmup

·         how good manners will results in biscuits

·         how to sleep in weird positions in a van

·         map reading/sat nav programming

·         The importance of carrying a selection of show tunes for an “all van singalong!”

·         That when you think the van is stuck in mud, call the AA, don’t try to get it out yourselves and furrow four deep holes into a school’s playing field…

Standing like sardines

Ever been in a shed?  Ever been in a plant room of a building? Ever got used to having long conversations no louder than a whisper?  Ever been really possessive over a coat hanger/coat hook?  Ever played the game Sardines?  Combine all those and that’s what “backstage” in a fringe venue generally amounts to.

Things learnt:

·         Maintenance of your own oral and personal hygiene will keep everyone happy

·         Febreeze is brilliant

Quick changes

Anything involving tights is hard.  If you’re really hot, everything becomes much harder.  Outfits with more than one thing to do up on them should be banned.  I did an hour long show where I had ten quick changes.  Ten.  The key to not royally screwing up was layering, concentration and “fireman uniform” style setting up of costumes.

Things learnt:

·         Sometimes people will screw with your costume, just for fun

·         Sometimes your costume will be horrific (red velour unitard)

·         Other times people will be jealous of your costume (onesie!)

·         You will often end up wearing your own clothes as costume and then never look at them in quite the same way again.

Keeping odd hours

If you work on TV or film, you will generally arrive at and leave the set in darkness.  The hours are long and a world outside of the set becomes difficult to remember.  If you work in theatre, you may initially find yourself commuting with non-actor people as you attend daytime rehearsals, but once the show is running, your working day starts as everyone else’s finishes and socialising at normal times becomes difficult.

Now I think about food a lot.  I love eating.  I mean really love it and generally I like to make my own meals.  When I’m in a show, food prep becomes something of a military exercise involving spreadsheets and timetables.  Regular meal times go out the window.  Some people like to eat long before the show, others five minutes before curtain and/or during the interval.  Everyone’s different but finding what works for you is the key.  Generally this comes down to experience.  You need food to fuel you through the performance, but you don’t really want to revisit your dinner mid-cartwheel in the opening number.

Things learnt:

·         You will miss daylight

·         It’s difficult to make social arrangements that aren’t very late at night

·         Your stomach will not really understand what’s going on for a while

·         You will get to know the barista’s in your nearest Starbucks by name

Being your best when possibly at your worst

Due to a lot of the above, i.e. the extenuating circumstances with which you are required to perform, it can sometimes be difficult to get “in the zone”.  Now that absolutely sounds like wanky-actor speak, but it is true.

Unless you are working with a large company, chances are you won’t have an understudy.  That means that, unless your leg is actually hanging off, you’re going on.  The audience aren’t interested in what’s going on offstage – your health, how big your dressing room is or whether you like your costume – they’ve paid to see a performance and that’s what you have to give them.  I think everyone has done performances with colds, bad backs, tonsillitis (I certainly have) but “Doctor Theatre” gets you through – it’s amazing how a red bull, couple of bananas and a lot of paracetamol can get you through a performance!

On set, time is precious.  When it’s your time to perform, there’s no time for theatrics.  Yes, you may have been in full prosthetic make-up since 6am and have eaten several meals and read half a book whilst waiting around but when you are called to set, no one cares about that - you have to be ready and you have to do the best performance you can.  A lot of people are expecting you to be on point.  Michael Caine has a brilliant book on this.

What conclusion can I draw from all of this?  Well part of the fun, is finding all this out for yourself.  Acting is not glamorous, it’s often poorly (or not) paid, the hours are long and erratic and there is no job security.  But when you get that chance to perform, that moment of nerves, joy and sheer exhilaration, it makes it all worthwhile.