Drama Auditions – Overview - Etobicoke School of the Arts

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A RAISIN IN THE SUN by Lorraine Hansberry FEMALE - DRAMA BENEATHA (talking to Asagai) (A young Afro-American girl struggles with her disillusionment) 10/10 1 Me? … Me? … Me, I’m nothing… Me. When I was very small…we used to take our sleds out in the wintertime and the only hills we had were the ice-covered stone steps of some houses down the street. And we used to fill them in with snow and make them smooth and slide down them all day… and it was very dangerous you know… far too steep… and sure enough one day a kid named Rufus came down too fast and hit the sidewalk… and we saw his face just split open right there in front of us… And I remember standing there looking at his bloody open face thinking that was the end of Rufus. But the ambulance came and they took him to the hospital and they fixed the broken bones and they sewed it all up… and the next time I saw Rufus he just had a little line down the middle of his face... I never got over that... That was what one person could do for another, fix him up—sew up the problem, make him all right again. That was the most marvellous thing in the world… I wanted to do that. I always thought it was the one concrete thing in the world that human being could do. Fix up the sick, you know—and make them whole again. This was truly being God… I wanted to cure. It used to be so important to me. I wanted to cure. It used to matter. I used to care. I mean about people and how their bodies hurt… I mean this thing of sewing up bodies or administering drugs. Don’t you understand? It was a child’s reaction to the world. I thought that doctors had the secret to all the hurts… That’s the way a child sees things—or an idealist. THE GLACE BAY MINERS’ MUSEUM by Wendy Lill FEMALE - DRAMA CATHERINE (Catherine tells her child a significant story of her relationship with her husband who is recently deceased) I met your father at the wake of Minnie's Uncle Joe Archie in the Bay. I was sneaking a smoke behind the outhouse. Your father knew I was there. He was two sheets to the wind, showing off for me, playing horseshoes and when the priest came up to tell him to stop, he said "I'll stop playing horseshoes if you'll stop squeezing the girls as they go by Joe Archie to pay their last respects. That probably offends him more than what I'm doing!" And when we were married two weeks later, you can bet, it wasn't that priest who tied the knot. We were in too much of a hurry for priests anyway. We went to a Justice of the Peace in Sydney. Can you imagine it? Nobody ever did the likes of that. When we came out of his office after the ceremony, there was a parade going by with a band of pipers. That was the last time I heard the bagpipes played -- 'til now. When we got home, somebody told Angus the priest was going to excommunicate him for what he'd done. And you know what Angus did? He marched right down to the Glebe House and when the Father opened the door, Angus said "You're too late. I excommunicated myself last week." And he did. Never went back there 'til the funeral. (holds up her glass) Cheers Angus. I think I'll have another one of those hot ones. (CATHERINE laughs) MOTHER TONGUE by Betty Quan FEMALE - DRAMA MIMI (Mimi recounts a significant dream involving the disappearance of her father.) Sometimes when I dream, I dream in Chinese. Not the pidgin Chinese I’ve developed but the fluent, flowing language my father used to coo as he walked with me, hand in hand. There is this one dream. I am walking with my father in the alleyway behind our house. I am seven years old. This is just before my father… before… My father and I are holding hands in perfect Cantonese talk about the snow peas in the garden that are ready for picking. Father doesn’t know it, but for the past week I’ve been hiding amongst the staked vines, in the green light, gorging on the snow peas until there can’t be any more left. I’m about to tell him this – air my confession – when we come across a large kitchen table propped against the side of the garage. “A race, my little jingwei” my Father says. “I’ll go through the tunnel and we’ll see which way is faster. One, two, three, GO!” We run; him in the tunnel, me on the gravel. I finish first and wait, expecting to meet him and rejoin hands. But he doesn’t come out of the shadows. My extended hand is empty. I wait and wait and wait. I start screaming, (in Chinese) “Father! Father! Come back! Please come back! Father!” (in English) And then, I wake up.
I’CLAUDIA by Kristen Thomson FEMALE - COMEDY CLAUDIA (Claudia is an official pre-teen, still reeling from her parents’ divorce. Finding refuge in the basement of her school, through the play Claudia discovers the pain at the centre of her brimming child’s heart.) 10/10 2 Some kids are made when they’re teenagers, right? Like in movies and at school lots of kids hate their dads. For different reasons at different times. Some kids hate their dads ‘cause they want to shoot speed into their arms! Dads don’t let them. Dads try to stop them. They say “I’m shooting speed into my arm and you can’t stop me!” And that’s ‘cause they’re into speed. But I would never do that ‘cause I don’t hate my dad. My dad is my best friend and I get to see him every week! It starts Monday after school at 3:45. I wait for him in the park across the street from school and he is never late like other kids’ parents and we do something totally bohemian together like go bowling or for pizza. And I have to say, it is the best moment of my entire life because there’s so much to talk about and we’re both hi-larious. Like every time I say, “I’m thirsty,” he says, “I’m Friday,” which is just something between us, like father-daughter. And then we go down to his apartment which is a downtown condo where I have my own room with a name plate on the door that says “Albert” for a joke and so I say to him, I say, “al- BERT”—and I have lots of posters, no pets, and I do homework and we just hang out and then I go to sleep. And when I wake up on Tuesday morning it is the worst day of my entire life because it’s the beginning of the whole next week of not seeing him. So I come down here on Tuesday morning before class to get control of myself. But Tuesday is also sophisticated because my Dad leaves for work before me so I get about twenty minutes in the apartment all by myself, which is very special time for me which I think of as my teen time. Like, I drink juice but I drink it out of a coffee mug. I look out over the vast cityscape and listen to the top music of my time… SANCTUARY by Emil Sher FEMALE – DRAMA JUNE (Every week, June – an emotionally abused woman – retreats to a secluded spot in a park for some time alone. For a year, Philip has watched her from a distance. He introduces himself on the very morning when June has come to scatter her husband’s ashes. June asks Philip if he has ever seen anyone burn, then recounts the memory of a childhood doll.) Betty. Her name was Betty. Betty with the beautiful eyes. Blue, blue, blue. Long, dark lashes. Soft, blonde hair. Didn’t weigh more than a pound. (beat) My absolute favourite doll. Barbie was too bony. And I never trusted Ken. Too perfect. But Betty was mine. (pause) I can’t remember exactly what it was I’d done, but I’d done something to make my mother angry. Really angry. She must’ve been having a hard day. Yeah, I’m sure she was just having one of those days. I was about five, maybe six. I probably did what every five-year-old does at one time or another, something that makes a parent’s eyes turn funny. I said I was sorry. But that wasn’t good enough. “That’s not good enough, young lady.” My mother must have told me that about a thousand times. Do you know what happens to young girls who misbehave? That’s when she did it. I begged her not to, but she wouldn’t have any of it. She plops Betty onto a tray and throws her into the oven. Soon there’s this awful smell filling the kitchen. I stood there, practically blind for all the tears in my eyes. My mother walks in every ten minutes to check on Betty. “Look, June. Look what’s happening to Betty.” And she makes me look, making me promise I’d always behave. Betty’s arms and legs were melting, melting and her hair was sizzling. On it went, ‘til there was nothing left but a puddle of Betty, and two blue eyes. THAT SUMMER by David French FEMALE - DRAMA MARGARET RYAN, NARRATOR Paul had just dropped me off, when I heard the noise out on the lake. Later, Tim said that Daisy had stood up in the boat. Maybe she had, considering what happened the last time they were out there... After I tried to wake my dad, I ran back to the dock. But I couldn't swim, you see. All I could do was stand there, helpless, the most helpless I've ever been in my life. And then it happened. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mrs. Crump appeared. Maybe she'd heard me screaming. Or maybe she'd seen it all from her cottage. I don't know. I only know that suddenly she came sweeping down the lawn, her bare feet slapping on the weathered planks of the dock. I saw her spring silently past me, almost in slow motion, her long flannel nightgown white in the moonlight, then ballooning as it filled with water... And then she was swimming as hard as she could, striking out toward the capsized boat. At first I could see her begin to tire, then struggle, and finally... finally I saw her go under. She wasn't in the greatest shape, Mrs. Crump. And the flannel nightgown, I suppose, just became too heavy... The second time she went down, she never came up, except one pale hand. I could see it in the slash of moonlight. Her fingers seemed to scratch the sky. And it looked to me then, as it still looks in memory, just as though she were waving... (She's overcome by emotion)
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Drama Auditions – Overview - Etobicoke School of the Arts

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