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Annabel Leventon on the Trinny and Suzannah process of preparing for auditions.
The audition - getting ready
Sir Andrew Aguecheek: aristocratic, gangly, hopeless; a coward and a fool, somehow loveable. Certainly a man. For perfect casting Bill Nighy springs to mind. So what shall I go as? No make-up, of course, which will cruelly reveal my age. Hair straight and floppy? It does that naturally so no problem there; not too flattering but I can’t go glamorous.
 I learn his first scene as well as I can and worry about what to wear. Experience has taught me directors feel more relaxed if you can at least give them a flavour of the character. Years ago there was a production of Bus Stop and I badly wanted to play the Marilyn Monroe part. I curled my hair into cute Fifties soubrette instead of my trademark long straight Sixties look, wore very high heels and a great deal of cleavage. As I teetered into the audition room, I heard the director murmur ‘It IS Cherie.’ It didn’t matter how bad my Ozarks accent was, I knew I’d got the job.
But for this one? How far should I go? This director is exceedingly bright with strong ideas and a conceptual view second to none. As to why he should choose to have Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew played by women, I haven’t an idea. I decide to go for broke. I have a long, pale cream straight jacket which hides most curves, but I can hardly travel to Clapham on the tube wearing just black tights to expose my stick-like legs. So I compromise. My twenty-two-year-old son is experimenting with clothes since he joined a rock band. Some of those clothes are mine. It seems logical to borrow something of his. I squeeze myself into his skinniest-of-skinny black stretch jeans and strap-hang all the way in case I split them sitting down.
By now I’m in the swing of things. As a child, one of the things that drew me to acting was the fun of dressing-up. Beryl Reid, an admired heroine, always started with the shoes: once they felt right, she built her performance from there. On this occasion, Harry’s jeans have done the trick for me. Plus the fact you have to fall in love with the person you play if it’s going to work and I’ve always loved Sir Andrew. By the time I’ve gone across London on the Northern Line, any residue of resentment left over from being made to play men all through school has vanished. Nerves give way to anticipation. I’m dying for the chance to perform him, even if it’s only for this morning.
I walk the three hundred yards from Clapham North tube to the RSC rehearsal rooms on a glorious spring day and I’m ready for anything. I was adored once, too
 Respond to Annabel's blog
Responses to Annabel's blog
"Hi Annabel!
Saw the last performance in Stratford and it was well worth the trip from South Wales! I especially liked your Sir Andrew, as it was the epitome of all the 'upper-class twits' that have been lampooned so often, yet you also managed to make him a real person as well. No mean feat.
I couldn't believe that you looked so convincing as a man, given that you are a very feminine looking woman! That is a compliment on your acting, I hasten to add, albeit a somewhat back-handed looking one.
I'm quitting now, before I put my foot any nearer my mouth. I'd like to thank you & the rest of the company for what was a fantastic evening's entertainment, and to wish you all the best for the future.
Take care!
Kevin Johnson"
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