Mrs. Warrren - NPR Interview

Jan. 19, 2008

Director down the croupe. Not the one I’ve gone through twice, but the stomach version. Stage Manager had it first, then the Asst. Stage Mgr., now Preston. Rehearsal cancelled. Though Rebecca (the lass that plays me’ daughter) and I worked on our two scenes and then had an NPR interview after.

(Here’s the link if you want to listen: http://wfdd.org/audio/tauc/tauc0122low.MP3.)

I’m much better with visual interviews than audio only. I sound like a bleedin’ idiot when you can’t see me. And sometimes even when you CAN see me. I’m great with the written word, when I’ve time to parse it all out neatly in my mind. (And our written vocabulary is thrice that of speech.) Lousy with impromptu speaking, unless I’ve "had a few" and am loose enough to be m’self. But when I try to sound intelligent on a radio interview - well it’s not dissimilar to the early, youthful, inexperienced auditioning process. (I’m starting to use as many adjectives as Mr. Saw - heaven help me!). When you go in desperately trying to be what you think they want you to be, instead of just being yourself, which is usually much more interesting. Anyway - they can edit to pieces in a way that will enable you to sound much better - or much worse - than what was the reality.

Not having heard the interview as yet I’d be surprised if any editing could have helped me. Ms. Rebecca did splendidly, I thought. I should have just shut up and let her carry the show. One thing I was pleased with, however, was that our interviewer, a Mr. Bradley George (or was it George Bradley - poor soul to be forever caught between equal sounding surnames) said he enjoyed my blog. Never having written for public “consumption” (oh dear I wonder if that word set off the Internet Alcohol Police?) I am genuinely curious as to the merits of my pursuing such a thing. In our day and age, everyone not only thinks he can be an actor, but he thinks that his opinings are of utter fascination to the world at large. This is all due to Oprah and Dr. Phil and dear old Jerry S., no doubt. Where we get to witness the emotional vomitings of the plebeians. And I surely don’t wish to be included in their set. So if my reality show here is of that ilk, please don’t hesitate to inform me by a responsive post. Pressing the delete key on my own vomitings does not distress me in the slightest.