Auditions at Stage 3
Stage 3 Open Auditions - Jump in the talent pool
Want to strut your stuff at one of the region's best theaters? Stage 3 Theatre Company
will hold its annual open auditions on Saturday, December 29th at 11 am.
Artistic Director Don Bilotti says, "This is a great opportunity for us to get to know you
and your work. Or maybe you know someone who has been wanting to get their foot in
our door. It's a low-stress situation and we'd love to see you. We look for all age ranges
He continues, "We try to make it easy and fun. Many of the actors we now use
consistently started with little or no experience. We know that everyone starts
Have you always wanted to be in a play but didn't want the pressure of lines etc.?
"Hamlet" will need a select group of people onstage that will be very important to the
production but will be in non-speaking roles. You can either come to the open auditions
or contact Don Bilotti at the theater to make other arrangements.
Here's what you do for the open auditions:
Call the theater, 209-536-1778, and set up an appointment. That's the most important
Prepare a 1 to 2 minute monologue. We're also including some monologues below for you to work with if
you prefer. Don't let the
lack of a monologue stop you! If all else fails, You'll be given a piece to read.
Bring a photo of yourself. It doesn't have to be fancy, just so they can remember what
you look like. And bring a resume if you have one. If not, there is a form to fill out.
To find out more about Stage 3's 2012 season visit www.stage3.org. If you have
questions you may call 209-536-1778 or email email@example.com.
Here are some sample monologues that you may use.
Older Men – Frank from "Over the River and through the
You know the problem with old stories, Nick? You tell them and you realize
that people don't change, people do the same things over and over again. When
I was a little boy, every Christmas morning, on the cobblestones in town, there
would appear this this sea of vendors their carts covered with toys and what
I remember most, is the colors bright reds and blues and oranges like a rainbow
of toys. And my father would carry me in his arms and take me to the first
cart, and he'd point to some tiny, dark toy, while I'd point to the biggest
and most colorful, but my father would shake his head "no" and we'd
move on to the next. And I'd point to another beautiful toy, and he'd shake
his head again, and we'd move on. And we'd do that again and again until we
had gone to each cart. And then he'd buy me some little gray toy I barely wanted,
and I'd start crying, and he'd carry me back into our house. I always resented
him for that hated him for that. And when I was fourteen, my father put me
on a boat to America and said "good bye, that's where you're gonna live." I
was fourteen. I hated him for that, too. Not you're gonna live." I was
fourteen. I hated him for that, too. Not long after that, he got tangled in
a fishing net that was being thrown in the water, and his head hit the side
of the boat and they never found him. Eight years from the day he sent me away,
I returned to my hometown so my mother and sisters could meet my new family.
It was during the holidays, and on Christmas morning, I took your mother in
my arms and carried her outside and there they were all the vendors, like they
never left with all their blue and red and beautiful toys. And your mother
pointed to the brightest and prettiest, and any one she'd point at, I bought
for her. And when we came back in, our arms full with this rainbow of toys,
my mother took one look and said: "That's what your father wished he could
do! But we barely had enough to buy food on Christmas. That's why he had to
send you away. So you could make for yourself a life he could never give you." I
always thought my father was a bastard who wouldn't give me anything. Turns
out he was giving me all he had.
Younger Men – Zappy from "Angels Fall"
No, no joke. I went to church and lit a candle, man. Really. I said my novenas,
man, 'cause it had been like a – not a miracle that anyone would know
except just me but it had been like when those girls saw Our Lady of Fatima
up on that hill. It was really weird. I was like in the fifth grade and I was
watching these two hamburgers on some practice court, and they took a break
and one of them hands me his racket. So I threw up a toss like I'd seen them
do and zap! Three inches over the net, two inches inside the line. There wasn't
nobody over there, but that was an ace, man. You should have heard those guys
razz me. I mean, you know, they say, "Man, you stink." And all those
things you can't repeat in front of a priest. They was really on my case. And
I think that's the first time anybody ever looked at me. I mean, I was skinny,
you've never seen most of the girls in my homeroom had about twenty pounds
on me. So this guy shows me a backhand grip and he hits one to me and zap!
You mother! Backhand! Right down the line. And the thing is, that's where I
wanted it. I saw the ball come at me, and I said I'm gonna backhand this sucker
right down the line, and I did. So then they took their ball back. Which I
don't blame them, 'cause no high school hotshot is gonna get off on being showed
up by this eleven year old creep that's built like a parking meter, you know?
But that was it. I hit that first ball and I said, "This is me. This is
what I do. What I do is tennis."
Older Ladies – Hetty from "Ballad Hunter"
Be honest, Rea, my heart's been broken fer years already. I weren't always
like this. See, I had my husband, he was a hard worker, real serious about
it, but after a hot meal and a little rest ... he could make you laugh til
yer innards hurt ... and all kind a friends, folks used to always come `round,
help me pass the time. Gussie was real ... well, on her own, but I had plenty
of other compn'y. Most the men were miners ... we didn't have much, but looking
back, it sure seemed like plenty.
We jist shoulda stuck to our guns. But there was this new President of the
Mine Workers and he was on a roll to get all us folks signed on, and that man
he sent to come to talk to us ... he kept on and on about pay raises the Union
got fer miners all over the country, "twenty seven percent", that's
jist what he kept sayin' over and over, "twenty seven percent", and
most us folk didn't know what he meant, it jist sounded so big, we thought
we was all goin' to be rich with twenty seven percent. He says he's the one
to do all the talkin', we don't got to worry bout that, we jist got to worry
about how hard and fast we work. And everybody's showin' off, talkin' big bout
what they gonna do with their money . … an this man, he orders up some
shine an some stew and we cook a feast fit fer Jesus, and afterwards he and
the boys git it in they heads they gonna go on over the mine, on a Sunday,
mind, make him proud, werk the rest the day and through the night, show 'em
how fast they can be when they got the promise of money in their pockets. Only
they didn't make it through the night, Rea, somethin' went terrible wrong ...
we lost all the men over the age a ten livin' on this mountain, an it's been
... well it's been perty quiet here since.
Teenage Ladies – Anne from "The Diary of Anne Frank"
I'm trying. Really I am. Every night before I go to sleep I think back over
all of the things I did that day that were wrong ...like putting the wet mop
in Mr. Dussel's bed ...and this thing now with Mother. I say to myself, that
was wrong. I make up my mind, I'm never going to do that again. Never! Of course
I may do something worse, but at least I'll never do that again! I have a nicer
side, Father ...a sweeter, nicer side. But I'm scared to show it. I'm afraid
that people are going to laugh at me if I'm serious. So the mean Anne comes
to the outside and the good Anne stays on the inside and I keep on trying to
switch them around and have the good Ann to be ...and might be ...if only ...only...
the air raids are getting worse. They come over day and night. The noise is
terrifying. Pim says it should be music to our ears. The more planes, the sooner
will come the end of the war.
Monday, the ninth of November, nineteen forty two. Wonderful news. The Allies
have landed in Africa. Pim says that we can look for an early finish to the
war. Just for fun he asked each of us what was the first thing we wanted to
do when we got out of here. Mrs. Van Daan longs to be home with her own things,
her needlepoint chairs, the Beckstein piano her father gave her ...the best
that money could buy. Peter would like to go to a movie. Mr. Dussel wants to
get back to his dentist's drill. He's afraid he is losing his touch. For myself,
there are so many things ...to ride a bike again ...to laugh till my belly
aches ...to have new clothes from the skin out ...to have a hot tub filled
to overflowing and wallow in it for hours ...to be back in school with my friends.
In-the-middle Ladies – Gussie from "Ballad Hunter"
It was a day like today, warm, but not too warm. An fm cleanin' up after
this big feast we cooked fer the miners and their new boss ... and up walks
this man. Hansomest man I ever seen. So I'm singin' that song you like so much,
mostly to myself, to pass the time and he walks up and says ... (long pause.) "don't
stop ... that's just why I've come". Real clear like, and you could tell
he weren't from nowhere round here.
Don't stop ... that's just why I've come ... So I say, "Pardon me"?
And right then it was like a streak a lightnin' went through my heart, Lotta.
You don't know it til you felt it, but it hurts so damn good you do you feel
that with Rea, huh, do ya?! Cause this man, he feels it too, I can tell, don't
gotta ask or say nothin', and he tells me he's lookin' fer ballads 'cause he's
writin' a book, tryin' to preserve the music of these parts. An I say, "what
sorta ballad?" an he goes on and on and all he had to do was say any perty
lil song but he's nervous and so am I, an so I sing him every story I had ever
heard, and in my life I had heard a lot. He tells me my voice sounds pertier
than his mandolin, an he's writin' as fast as he can, until his hand can't
take it no more, til we're both soakin' wet like we jist come outta the river,
like we was baptized and that's what it felt like too, like I'd jist been born,
like fer the first time I knew I was alive.
Well then you oughta know, that bein' a man he couldn't leave without puttin'
his mark on me, and so he did, first, he touches my hair, real soft like and
pulls it offa my face and ties it with this little ribbon he's got markin'
the pages in his book, then he takes these berries he been pickin' an I don't
know what he's gonna do with 'em, I think maybe he's hungry and I member I
didn't even offer him nothin' to eat or drink, but instead he lifts one up
to my lips like he's feedin' me the body a Jesus hisself, and then he puts
in another and another and another and another until I can't hold all them
berries an they start spillin' on my chin and my face is gettin' purple but
he keeps puttin' 'em in and I don't ever want him to stop. But he does. It's
only natural .... then he says he's goin' on down the mine, git some ballads
them ole boys don't dare to sing 'round the house, but he promises to come
back, he says fm a ballad myself, cause fm wild and beautiful, he did, them
were his werds ... but I know he ain't comin' back... I can jist tell, but
I don't stop him, cause ... I don't know why ... I jist don't. It's like I
couldn't live every day that happy anyhow, so I let him go, like leaves in
the river he slides right through my fingers and goes his own way.