mankaneneestam
Feb 14, 2012
Undergraduate / "I Am an Actor" - Georgetown Transfer Essay, First Prompt [3]
Thanks for the feedback. It is greatly appreciated.
I did revisions on this essay extensively - the new version is below.
One minute until it is my turn on stage, and my world is changing. Bodies, voices, and emotions pile into the blender of the stage and are violently mixed. The products are finely chopped nerves, lightly seasoned by the deafening murmurs of the actors and directors in the house. A tantalizing meal of anticipation is presented before my eyes. I remain still. The wafts of apprehension do not tempt me anymore.
One by one, the line of prospective performers moves forward into the maw. Their exuding emptiness bounces off of me. My heart bangs on the walls of my chest, wanting its voice to be heard. I tell it to be patient, for it will speak soon. The new words can wait for a moment more.
Auditions bring forth a wide array of experiences like these to an actor. The circumstances can be different: a black box or proscenium to play in, roles for five actors or five hundred, the play, Othello or Next to Normal. The throbbing clock in a chest, the sweat, the giddy anxiety? For most, these feelings never change, but for me, they are different now.
Georgetown was a new challenge - one that I lusted after. I was told by experience to prepare for its audition as I had before. The operative words in my memorized lines would be underlined to make them matter. The script had to be recited over and over again in front of the mirror, until I got it right. Movements would be planned at specific lines, with proper intentions and reasons. The questions about my character would arise: who he was internally and externally, and who he should become. The blueprint had been created, and I felt confident about landing a role, yet something felt funny.
The top layer of my character seemed fine, but I felt that I had missed something. Why did this character seem so far from myself? Was there something more than my lines and blocking? Was my soul truly in this archetype of my acting process? My frowning heart told me to look below the surface of the soulless being I would have created. I peered into the shell, searching for meaning, searching for what was missing inside. It did not take long for me to find the answer.
I had to be more than a character. The depths of emotion and character had to be surpassed beyond the lines, the movements, the intentions. I had to reach the very bottom of my soul, and bring it to the top layer, to every word, every step. The audition would be spiritless if I did not unfold each of its layers, one by one, and infuse myself into them. The shell needed an inhabitant, one who spoke more than the words, who made more than the movements. The missing cohesion to put it all together was me.
The outline was re-drawn. The words were shaped with willing hands, the movements by invigorated feet, the character by a set mind. My heart grinned and my troubles were put away. A soul had taken form.
As I wait in line to be judged, to bring forth the wet clay of the person that I am, I will not waver. I shall not eat from the plate of anxiety. I have no taste for such meals anymore. That actor is gone.
I will be myself, the truth of my role, and nothing more. That is what acting is to me.
My name is (name here), and I will be auditioning for the role of myself.
...thank you.
Thoughts?
Thanks for the feedback. It is greatly appreciated.
I did revisions on this essay extensively - the new version is below.
One minute until it is my turn on stage, and my world is changing. Bodies, voices, and emotions pile into the blender of the stage and are violently mixed. The products are finely chopped nerves, lightly seasoned by the deafening murmurs of the actors and directors in the house. A tantalizing meal of anticipation is presented before my eyes. I remain still. The wafts of apprehension do not tempt me anymore.
One by one, the line of prospective performers moves forward into the maw. Their exuding emptiness bounces off of me. My heart bangs on the walls of my chest, wanting its voice to be heard. I tell it to be patient, for it will speak soon. The new words can wait for a moment more.
Auditions bring forth a wide array of experiences like these to an actor. The circumstances can be different: a black box or proscenium to play in, roles for five actors or five hundred, the play, Othello or Next to Normal. The throbbing clock in a chest, the sweat, the giddy anxiety? For most, these feelings never change, but for me, they are different now.
Georgetown was a new challenge - one that I lusted after. I was told by experience to prepare for its audition as I had before. The operative words in my memorized lines would be underlined to make them matter. The script had to be recited over and over again in front of the mirror, until I got it right. Movements would be planned at specific lines, with proper intentions and reasons. The questions about my character would arise: who he was internally and externally, and who he should become. The blueprint had been created, and I felt confident about landing a role, yet something felt funny.
The top layer of my character seemed fine, but I felt that I had missed something. Why did this character seem so far from myself? Was there something more than my lines and blocking? Was my soul truly in this archetype of my acting process? My frowning heart told me to look below the surface of the soulless being I would have created. I peered into the shell, searching for meaning, searching for what was missing inside. It did not take long for me to find the answer.
I had to be more than a character. The depths of emotion and character had to be surpassed beyond the lines, the movements, the intentions. I had to reach the very bottom of my soul, and bring it to the top layer, to every word, every step. The audition would be spiritless if I did not unfold each of its layers, one by one, and infuse myself into them. The shell needed an inhabitant, one who spoke more than the words, who made more than the movements. The missing cohesion to put it all together was me.
The outline was re-drawn. The words were shaped with willing hands, the movements by invigorated feet, the character by a set mind. My heart grinned and my troubles were put away. A soul had taken form.
As I wait in line to be judged, to bring forth the wet clay of the person that I am, I will not waver. I shall not eat from the plate of anxiety. I have no taste for such meals anymore. That actor is gone.
I will be myself, the truth of my role, and nothing more. That is what acting is to me.
My name is (name here), and I will be auditioning for the role of myself.
...thank you.
Thoughts?