On Sunday 13th October, at 11:45 pm, I got the email. I’d been expecting it, and to be honest, I wasn’t overly disappointed. I had come to the ADC for 12 pm the day before. My panellists and I exchanged some polite small talk over the scripts and the audition process in general, before I began. I had decided that my performance was going to be dramatic. So, spontaneously, I left the room, and burst back in through the doors, before launching into my opening line: “There are things in this comedy…!” But, as I kept going, I was aware of something. The energy in the room had started to deteriorate. Attempting to wrench it back, I went bolder: bigger facial expressions, bigger movements, eyes darting between my auditioners. My audience had been accounted for, but the thoughts behind my actions had started to dissipate like smoke.

“The most important thing when performing is authenticity”

Where last night, my words had seemed fluid, heartfelt and funny, here, felt stagnant and artificial. I didn’t believe myself as I was speaking. After a different monologue, and some obligatory redirection, I came away with a profound sense of disassociation: from myself, from the characters I had attempted to inhabit, and from the quality of my performance. I had my mum on the other end of the phone within the hour.

It’s been over a month since I was rejected from my first Cambridge audition and, without wishing to sound cliché, I’m actually glad I was. Currently, I keep myself busy. Very busy. A little too busy, if my DOS is to be believed. Between writing for Varsity, training for Cam FM, and attending so much theatre that even the most avid Camdram stalker would collapse, my schedule simply would not have permitted rehearsals and line-learning alongside the rest of my extracurriculars. But! As it just so happens, my schedule for next term is wide open. So, in the hopes that you will join me on stage, what can I tell you about what I learnt?

First things first, choose a play you’re comfortable with. The most important thing when performing is authenticity. Can you imagine yourself, or someone else (!), saying these lines and can you understand why they would do that? If you pick a script, as I did, where you consider a character’s archetype before you consider what makes them unique, then you’re on a one-way road to two-dimensionality. Familiarising yourself with the play beforehand will help you understand the context of not only the scene, but also of the character’s traits outside of the scene you’ve been given. Avoid simplicity. Yes, Scrooge hates Christmas, but he also changes. You wouldn’t assume a person could change their personality on the spot, so why would you assume a fictional person could?

“Imbue your performance with freshness every time you do it, and this will help you avoid imitation in the audition room”

Considering surroundings is also useful. Mark Antony does not deliver ‘Friends, Romans, Countrymen’ inside your bedroom, he’s in the streets of Rome. Obviously, he’s going to speak loudly and confidently. But he’s going to move. He’s going to raise and lower his voice to appeal to the crowd in front of him. He’s going to think while he’s talking. There is nothing more rewarding as an audience member than seeing a character existing. You, as the actor, just have to make it obvious that they do.

Let’s talk practical stuff. Preparing shouldn’t be time-consuming, nor stressful. Repetition is good to start with, get comfortable with the words, and then, throw that out the window. The word of the (pre-audition) day is: play. Play with everything. Delivery, physicality, volume, scenario. Imbue your performance with freshness every time you do it, and this will help you avoid imitation in the audition room. I know some people who attempted to memorise a script before they entered the room in order to impress the director. Bad Idea. That’s work, not playing. And work is a boring waste of time. If you must do work, annotate. Annotate where a new ‘thought’ occurs with a dash, or annotate other bits of trivia, such as: What’s happened before this? What do they want? Who are they speaking to? What animal does the speaker most resemble? (seriously.)

Now, onto the day itself: eat, sleep and ignore the audition. Don’t let your eyes touch that page until you’re at the venue. Eat well, exercise and turn up early. When the script appears before you again, its last impression will likely have been scourged from your brain, so please do read it over a few times before you go in. Warm up your voice. Tongue twisters are a favourite of mine – you might have heard of ‘Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry.’ But have you heard of: ‘Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry, Red Leather, Yellow Leather, Red Lorry, Yellow Leather, Red Leather, Yellow Lorry? ’ If that’s too weird, Disney Songs are the only acceptable alternative, although please, for the love of God, check for soundproofing first!

When you walk into that room, make an effort to actually talk with the panel – you’re there to help them make the best show! Keep auditioning for as many things as possible – they can’t say no to you forever! Don’t forget to make a note of how you think the audition goes, and things you want to improve/keep the same. And finally, enjoy a big slice of cake after. You earned it!

Best of luck, all – and I'll see you in the theatre.