Yet here she was, clutching a worn copy of the play, her knuckles white. The hallway was lined with them: the mature auditioners. A silver-haired man in a cardigan ran lines under his breath, his fingers trembling slightly. A woman with a chic grey bob and a velvet scarf sat perfectly still, her eyes closed, lips moving silently. Another woman, larger and louder, was recounting her triumph as Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? ten years ago, her voice a little too bright.
“Name and piece?” a reedy voice asked. matureauditions
“I know so well what becomes of unmarried women who aren’t prepared to occupy a position…” Yet here she was, clutching a worn copy
The audition notice had caught her eye in the grocery store, pinned beneath a flyer for a lost cat. “The Glass Menagerie” – Auditions. All roles open. Mature actors strongly encouraged. A woman with a chic grey bob and