by Clint Smith
Nashville
January 7, 1998

"We get about 20 bizarre people a day," says Heidi Marshall, the casting director for "Rent." In the first hour of open auditions (held in Cowan Street's SoundCheck studios) we had watched eight or nine young singer/actors walk into the audition room, burst into their 16 bars of a capella melody, to be halted somewhat abruptly with "Great, great. We're just checking range." A smile and quick exit, then more waiting until the next round of piano accompaniment begins. So far, no bizarros (unless you count the young girl who chose Ace of Base's "Don't Turn Around" for her vocal arrangement), but also nothing to turn heads.

"Rent," Jonathan Larson's modern rock musical about a group of struggling East Village artists, addicts, transvestites and S&M dancers, is loosely based on Puccini's "La Boheme," about a group of struggling artists in 19th century Paris. Larson's story, though, is pure '90's, full of twenty - something characters facing the harsh realities of love, poverty, and AIDS in today's New York. The musical's history is as tragic as the lives of its characters; Larson, having worked for years putting his breakthrough work together, died of an aortic aneurysm the day before the show's January, 1996 premiere. Ironically, Larson (who had recently lost several close friends to AIDS) had just finished writing a letter to a friend that read, "Vic, Dear Vicks, '96 will be our year. And no more funerals." She received the card the day after his memorial service.

But the spirited show lives on, and its growing popularity has brought hopeful actors from all over; I overhear one 20-something kid say he has driven straight through from Branson, Missouri, arriving in Nashville that very morning (who knows, maybe the visible bags under his eyes would help his 'struggling artist' look). I just hope he can sing.

One of the morning's more promising auditioners is Jaime Kirchner, a 17-year-old native of Clarksville who had been acting in local productions since the age of eight. After her initial screening, in which she bypassed the a capella segment and instead was asked to sing a couple of "Rent" numbers, I ask her if she is at all nervous. "No, not at all," she replies confidently. Which annoys me because I am nervous just trying to come up with halfway intelligent questions to ask, having opened my earlier interview with Heidi (the casting director) with something brilliant like, "So, tell me how this whole casting thing works."

Jaime got the call-back and would return Friday for a more intense and personalized audition. If she fares well, she'll then be flown to New York for yet more tryouts.

Another promising audition hopeful is the colorful D. Milan Cooper, the reigning Miss South Carolina Gay Pride who splits his time between theater and female impersonation in Florence, S.C. I ask him which pays better: the serious theater or the impersonating gig. "Definitely the impersonating. You don't want to know how much more I make doing that." I then ask him if he had his sights set on a particular "Rent" character. "Look at the shoes," he calmly replies, lifting up one of his enormous lifts in reference to Angel, the musical's drag queen. I could tell D. Milan is impressed with my expansive knowledge of the show.

Others would probably not receive the same attention; sadly, the girl who bellowed out the Ace of Base would most likely not return, nor would the young man who botched the lyrics of "Amazing Grace," the fall-back tune for any singer who either hasn't chosen their own music or who fails to sing anything that reveals their vocal range. I ask the staff if the "Amazing Grace" faux pas happened often. Says Heidi, "We did have one girl sing, 'Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wench like me. That was pretty funny."

From here, the casting process moves to Atlanta, Philadelphia, Cleveland and beyond as part of the never-ending attempt to fill spots for six different touring companies as well as keep an eye out for potential replacements.

Hosting open auditions is part of "Rent"'s attempt to make sure anyone with a voice and a personality gets heard ("We're suckers," admits Heidi), though there are a few rules auditioning actors are asked to heed. The two most important: "Absolutely no country music" and "No plastic pants." And no one over 25, which means that my own stage dreams will not come true today.

"Rent" is scheduled to visit TPAC January 26-31, 1999.