First Day at RADA

Wow. I don’t quite know where to begin and so I shall take good old Lewis Carroll’s advice and “Begin at the beginning.” After my last blog, I read my play again and, at the risk of sounding like a complete drama geek, it literally gets more exciting with every read. Stephen Fry once quoted someone (terrible that I don’t know the name of the person he quoted…I suppose I could google it…NOEL COWARD) who said, “Work is more fun than fun”, and that’s sort of how I felt when I was working on my monologue. I was all like, I’m learning so much about my character, I’m totally going to be able to be her, this is such a good play, I’m so friggin’ HAPPY! BUT THEN. The lows hit and I was all like, What the hell am I thinking, I’m never going to be able to do this, I’ve got my character all wrong, I’m butchering this playwright’s language…FUUUCK.

So yeah, yesterday was a mix of highs and lows. But when I eventually got to my halls, someone (who’s also on the course) knocked on my door while I was practicing my monologue, and being the friendliest person in the world, she immediately put me at ease. She’s from Canada and since meeting her, I’ve met people from New York, Brazil, Cyprus, Germany, Holland, Mexico, California, San Francisco, and LA, which is SO COOL. Scotland just sounded lame when I introduced myself in class, although it did mean that I could make a little weather joke:

Teacher: It’s freezing in here.

Me: I’m from Scotland so this is practically tropical for me.

I know, right? I should be a comedian.

But anyway, back to the people I met. They’re definitely unlike anyone I’ve ever met before…

“I live in New York, but then I met this guy here and I don’t know, I definitely wanna hit that and I think he’s looking for some Kit love, but I don’t think he’s for dating, you know?”

Me: Oh…

“I’m just texting a friend about a show. He’s a director. I used to go out with him and now he’s got a show in the West End.”

Me: Wow…

“I’m so glad we get one on ones because then they’ll see how talented I am and put me on Broadway!”

Me: Oh…

“No, no, I haven’t done much. I mean I used to read the news, and then I got into theatre and now I’m part of this film company back home.”

Me: Wow…

“I really like this guy, but now he’s said to me that he doesn’t want to have sex anymore because of his religion and so it’s either marriage or nothing and I get that, but I’m 22 – I don’t want to marry, but I really like him…”

Me: Oh…

“Oh” and “Wow” were probably the only words I said all day, until I had to introduce myself that is. As for the actual school, HOLY MOLY. It’s actually a lot smaller than I thought it would be, but then I guess that’s why it’s so good – so much one on one attention. When we got there, we were led into the theatre where the lead dramaturge (who wore stripy, yellow socks) welcomed us and introduced us to all the tutors who work or have worked in the profession. They seriously know their stuff. We then went off to our movement class (I can’t stretch for shit), then it was time for lunch (chicken korma), then it was acting class (sight-reading other people’s monologues), and at the end of the day, voice (jumping around like imps in a forest and BREATHING).

I LOVE DRAMA SCHOOL.

So yeah, the nerves have definitely subsided somewhat and I’m mostly just feeling excited now, although I’m still absolutely petrified about performing…but it’s a good sort of fear – I think. I was going to do some more practice tonight and try and apply some of the things I’ve learnt today, but I don’t want my monologue to become stale or closed to changing or even improvising a bit. I think it’s good to keep it fresh. So I’m just going to read the play one more time and get to know my character a little more.

I can’t believe I’m such a geek.

A Neurotic in London

I can’t believe that I’ve actually made it and you know what? It was so easy! Definitely not worth the ever so slight panic attack I had yesterday. BREATHE BREATHE BREATHE OH MY GOD WHAT AM I DOING I’M GOING TO GET LOST I MIGHT SUFFOCATE ON THE TUBE I CAN’T EVEN ACT THEY’LL ALL LAUGH AT ME I PROBABLY CAN’T EVEN READ I AM MUCH HAPPIER IN THE SPAR BREATHE BREATHE BREATHE.

Now, I can’t yet speak for the acting and people laughing at me (I’m in London for a wee summer school at RADA), but the journey really was easy peasy lemon squeezy. I calmed down somewhat after a vodka at the pub my friend was working in and then calmed down some more when I got on the KNIGHT BUS (take it away Earl) and had my very own bed. I actually calmed down so much that my tummy started rumbling; having neglected to eat that day, I found that I was pretty damn hungry. But no matter, I just dreamt of the fry up I would get when I arrived and fell asleep going over my lines. I didn’t even panic when I woke up and found myself in London. It seemed like such a short journey that I think my psyche has been tricked into thinking that Glasgow is incredibly near. That I could probably walk there.

TAKE THAT YOU NEUROTIC SON OF A BITCH PSYCHE!

And as for the dreaded Tube, I found it within seconds, although I did walk straight past it at first thinking that it couldn’t possibly be a station because of all the shops inside: that the sign saying “Victoria Station” on the building was in actual fact lying and that it really was just a shopping centre. But I realised my mistake pretty quickly, went back and it was then that I was met with another confused Scottish person:

“‘scuse me? Do you know if this is the station? Jist disnae look like one wi all the shops!”

“That’s what I thought, but I think it is!”

“Alright, cheers pal.”

But then he proceeded to walk in the opposite direction so he either didn’t trust me or completely misunderstood me.

I went in though and sure enough, it was both the station and the underground. I found the line I was meant to be on, managed to use my Oyster card, and didn’t fall down the escalator. I was then confidently waiting for the tube, until it turned up and I started questioning whether or not it was actually the right one. I had one leg in and one leg out, barricading the doorway, before turning to a stranger and imploring them for answers. It was just my luck that this stranger was absolutely roaring drunk.

“Sorrrry. I’m so druuunk. I thiiink – hic – this is the right one.”

She then took the initiative to ask someone who was not roaring drunk and yes, it was the right one.

Then I got off and my halls were a mere ten minute walk away and even though I’m not allowed in them until two o’ clock, I was able to leave my suitcase there – there was someone there at eight o’ clock on a Sunday morning! Then I found a nice little cafe down the road (OK YOU GOT ME IT’S STARBUCKS. I promise I’ll be more adventurous when I’ve settled in a bit and do not smell of bus.) and so here I am, drinking a big cup of tea and about to read my play for the third time just to make sure that I really know what it’s about.

I’ll let you know how tomorrow at the school goes.

If I don’t have another panic attack and die that it is.

P.s. It is absolutely pissing it down. I thought the weather in England was meant to be better than in Scotland? I did not sign up (or pack) for this.