Thommie Retter Dance Workshop

I promptly squelched that line of thought, as it’s not at all conducive to effective stage-mom parenting, and signed up J. (He’s my 9-year-old who auditioned for Matilda last time around, without any specific prep.) In the waiting room outside that workshop and at the audition, moms compared notes about musical theatre programs, performing arts camps ($5,000 for 3 weeks), dance studios, vocal and dance coaches (over $100 an hour; one we know charges $250). Getting a leg-up in the biz can cost an arm and a leg! Many kids tune their belting voices with Trapper Felides of Oxygen’s “The Next Big Thing.” (Hey, Trapper, check your text messages. I’m trying to book a session. I’m really sorry I didn’t know who you were when we met. I have four little kids, an overgrown teenager for a husband, a freelance writing job, and this time-consuming blogging gig. My reality TV viewing time is zilch, but I’m working on it. You rock.) Moms have to be totally on top of it. Stars are molded, not born.

I can say two things about the workshop my son took with dance phenomenon Thommie Retter (former Mr. Braithwaite from Billy Elliot the Musical, and therefore God as far as J is concerned): 1. J had so much fun he was giddy the entire afternoon and evening. 2. He came out of the Matilda dance audition beaming. Okie dokie, money well spent (and it wasn’t even pricey).

I also kinda doubt the 8U Little League coaches can do anything this impressive: Watch the Video of Thommie tapping (at the bottom of the page on the left in the link).

Aside from Thommie, here is the caliber of talent you may stumble upon at one of his workshops… Kiril Kulish (one of the original Billy’s):

As for Matilda, I couldn’t help but put my ear against the door while J sang…two songs. I resisted clapping. Would they really ask for a second song (“Electricity” from Billy Elliot) after an 8-hr day of auditioning if they weren’t a teeny bit interested? That is just the kind of thinking that can undermine my post-audition advice: Walk out and forget about it.

The casting director did tell me J (whom she’d seen at Alvin Ailey last November) was on the top of the list to play Billy Elliot in the Broadway tour, which, sadly, is closing before he’ll get his chance. Bad luck. Coaching may be key these days, but no one can deny that Lady Luck still plays a starring role.

Casting Agent Nora Brennan

1. If it actually is you who wants to be there more than your kid, then expect A LOT of whining.

2. Arrive early to reduce the wait time. Sign in for “Matilda” was at 9 AM; we arrived at 9, not a minute before, because breakfast always overshadows all other priorities in my life. This put J at #23—not bad, but more than half the people arrived earlier than sign-in time.

3. Bring a book, Ipad, something to entertain yourself and cherubic child. The audition was slated to start at 10, but the first group of dancers (20 kids) didn’t go in until 10:30. The rest of us were told we could leave but had to be back by noon.

4. Expect bribery. J thought he deserved a cultural excursion to Toys-R-Us in return for working so hard at the audition (never mind that all he had done so far was read a book). Luckily I managed to keep the damage to one DVD for the family (which my kids managed to lose before they even watched it; does this happen in anyone else’s household?).

5. Remember to feed your child. J had a bag of popcorn but somehow I forgot about lunch, which might be useful before a two-hour dance audition. Yes, TWO hours!

6. Don’t expect to see any of the audition. All I heard was the stomping and shouting from what sounded like the “Revolting Children” number. J came out at 2:30 exhilarated and exclaimed, “That was fun!” But that’s all I got. (Of course that said A LOT. Insert sigh of relief from mother who prefers not to be a pushy stagemom.)

Matilda, the Musical

7. For a singing audition in which children need to bring sheet music, which is most of the time, they should have a “book.” This is a 3-ring binder with pages of music inside in plastic sleeves, which makes it easier for the pianist. We were part of the newbie crowd with loose sheets of music. Oops.

8. Expect some intimidating kids like the ones who broke into song, unabashedly rehearsing in the waiting room, and a toddler-size Michael Jackson belting out “ABC, 123″ in the ladies room. Likewise, several boys demonstrated rubber-band-like flexibility warming up for the dance portion. But by and large, the kids did what most kids do everywhere: played on their parents’ IPhones.

9. Sorry, no “Dance Moms” anecdotes. The parents chatted politely. We exchanged info about an upcoming open call for “Peter Pan.” We discussed community theatre and our artsy boys. Nobody boasted. I learned that some families traveled in from as far as Florida. The casting directors thoughtfully let those who had to catch flights jump the line.

10. Don’t expect to find out much about what the casting directors are looking for beyond a couple lines in the audition details. I learned more about what casting agent Nora Brennan wanted in this article I stumbled upon in the Huffington Post: “Nora Brennan’s Precise Art of Casting Children.” She’s not looking for a bunch of cute kids. She wants distinct faces and body types. That’s one thing I noticed looking around at the crowd of Broadway hopefuls. They had memorable faces, but they were characters more than cuties. In a former post, someone commented about being careful about the importance of looks in the acting and dance world. Maybe in Hollywood. I haven’t seen that at all here. The most talented kids are cast in these shows; the cutest, well he’s just plugging along getting experience at auditions and waiting for his big break.

Billy Elliot

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