by Jennifer Wagner
IDS News
September 30, 1999

Everyone said the "RENT" auditions would be "just another cattle call." Rumor had it 20,000 people already auditioned. No one had a chance. I went anyway.

A charming woman at the IU Auditorium staff door took down my name as I stepped inside from the Wednesday afternoon deluge. "It'll be about an hour," she said with a smile. And she didn't even laugh when I produced neither a headshot nor a resume.

I went into the "hanging out" area - otherwise known as the newly refurbished Auditorium lobby. A melting pot of young men and women chattered in clusters on the vibrant carpet. Some wore traditional audition attire: black from head to toe. Others pushed the "no plastic pants" rule with  trendy threads and chunky shoes.

From my spot in the corner, I could hear the cacophony of warmup exercises emanating from the women's restroom. Popular music mingled with jazz and gospel as I sat filling out my temporary resume. Of course, I had yet to decide what song I would sing.

I began to look around and recognize familiar faces - friends from classes, fellow Singing Hoosiers and people I knew from home who had all arrived to claim their 15 minutes of fame. The atmosphere was a far cry from the stereotypical New York terseness I had expected.

Several times in the hour, a booming voice called 15-20 names over the loudspeaker, and a small herd of prospective stars were ushered out the door. Four groups disappeared before I heard my name. A shiver of anticipation coursed through my body.

I gathered up my fact sheet, bookbag and dripping umbrella to follow the fold up the grand staircase. Our flock was guided by a student volunteer, who reassured us that the casting staff was not the least bit intimidating, and that we had nothing to worry about. Somehow her confidence in my vocal ability made me even more nervous.

We lined up single file outside a small room on the mezzanine level, but the casting director and her crew needed a break. The line disseminated into nervous energy, and I started talking to the people around me. Much to my surprise, I discovered most of them were not as competitive as I had  imagined.

"I just wanted to do it for fun and experience," I heard people say.  "After all, how often do you get to audition for the national tour of an award-winning musical?"

Eventually the crew returned. The line started moving like wildfire, and before I knew what was happening, I was face-to-face with a Broadway casting director and two volunteers who were helping her coordinate our papers. I figured it was probably time to pick a tune.

"Today I will be singing a touching love ballad by Ms. Britney Spears," I said with a childish grin. It was the last song I had heard on the radio, and several of my friends had jokingly recommended it. Besides, "...Baby One More Time," might be considered classic rock someday.

The casting director smiled and tapped her foot, giving me the impression that I wasn't just another Broadway hopeful. I was out in less than 30 seconds, and I was satisfied even though I hadn't gotten a little orange slip of paper indicating a callback.

It didn't matter that I likely made a fool of myself in front of a national casting director. She had grooved with me just the same. And it made no difference that I'm not physically suited for a role in "RENT." I stood up tall and smiled regardless. I did it for myself, and I did it as best I could.

As the song says, "No day but today."