Claude Watson Secondary Arts Program
EARL HAIG SECONDARY SCHOOL
DRAMA
Audition Guideline
For students entering Grades 9 to 11
The audition is divided into three parts:
Part 1 – Class Activity – DAY OF THE AUDITION
All students will take part in a workshop and group performance. Students will also be given
a written exercise, where formal structure and complexity of thinking will be evaluated. The
writing will be a creative piece from the point of view of the character from your monologue.
You will be asked to read your writing out loud to the panel.
Part 2 – Solo – PRIOR AND DAY OF THE AUDITION
Please memorize and stage one of the monologues in this package.
Be inventive, imaginative and make the monologue your own.
During the audition, expect to be given some coaching to see how well you take direction.
We recommend reading and understanding the play from which the monologue has been
taken. Play titles and information are at the top of each monologue. Plays can be found at The
Toronto Public Library, Playwrights Guild of Canada and Amazon.
Read over the monologues provided and pick the one that interests you the most.
Memorize it exactly. Being confident in your lines is very important. Check the pronunciation
of any words that are unfamiliar to you.
Practice saying your monologue in different ways. Imagine who your character is speaking to.
Make choices about who your character is and why they are saying this piece. Portray your
character and emotions through your body and your voice. Costumes and props are not
required.
Part 3 – Interview – DAY OF THE AUDITION
An interview will take place asking about your background, goals and interests inside and
outside of drama. Your questions are encouraged at that time. This is our opportunity to get to
know you better! 
Required Dress
Please wear suitable clothing such as a tracksuit and soft shoes. Be prepared to participate in
interactive theatre exercises.
Adjudicators
The adjudicating teams consist of teachers and professional artists. Auditions are private.
The decision of the adjudicating team is final.
AUDITION MONOLOGUES - FEMALE
From Transit of Venus by Maureen Hunter
Playwrights Guild of Canada
The play is based on the life of Guillaume Le Gentil (1725-1792) a gentleman astronomer.
He leaves Celeste, the girl who loves him, to embark on an expedition. Celeste is telling him
how much she loves him and admires his work.
CELESTE
No. I don’t do it, you see. I don’t do any of it. I don’t baste, I don’t sew, I don’t knit, I don’t
mend, I don’t darn, I don’t tat, I don’t embroider and I do not do petti-point! I do, however,
read. And because I can read, I can learn. Oh, I can’t actually travel – you have the
advantage of me there - but I can read about travel, I can dream about it, I can imagine what
it’s like. I’ve been everywhere with you. You don’t know it, but I have. I know every inch
of sea you’ve sailed, every island you’ve set foot on. I know how the rains come sweeping
across the mountains of Ile de France, and how the island itself lies curled in the sea like an
oyster. I know about the doldrums and trade winds and tides. Tides! Tides are so
mysterious. We’ve known about them since the days of Alexander, yet there’s so much we
don’t know. Why, for instance are there two high tides and two low tides every day in some
places, and only one in others? Why the tides of Saint Malo rise almost ten meters and only
a fraction of that on the islands you visited? They do; did you know that? I want to know
why. I want to know everything there is to know before I die. This was your gift to me, you
see? You pointed me at the sky and said, look! And when I looked, what did I see?
Mirrors! Mirrors reflecting mirrors reflecting mirrors, on and on to infinity. So much to
know, so much to learn, so much to wonder about. Once you begin to wonder, it’s
impossible, isn’t it – inconceivable! – to abandon that sense of wonder for anything as
straight-forward and mundane as a needle and a piece of thread.
From Moon People by Aviva Ravel,
Playwrights Canada Press
An adopted teenager confronts her birth mother and through their mutual regret, pain, anger
and love the two women reach an understanding of one another.
HARRIET
About a year ago, I go so low, lyin’ in the gutter completely messed up. My Mom said I
could only go up ‘cause I was as low as you can get. The only worse you can get is dead.
All of a sudden, I didn’t want to die. I mean stuck down in the earth, and never see my crazy
squirrels, and the Moon-People or hear my music. Anyhow, I told my Mom I gotta know
who my mother is. She looked so upset; I patted her on the bum and said she was my real
mother. I only meant the woman who gave birth to me ‘cause not knowing was makin’ me
nervous. So she said she’d help me find you. She wrote a million letters, went to hospitals,
and talked to the Agency people all over the place. It was like being a detective but much
harder, ‘cause no one wants to tell you nothin’. Anyhow, she found you so here I am. She
wanted to come with me. She thought it’d be hard for me to do it alone. But I said I gotta do
it myself. She gave me lots of money for the train ticket and the hotel – we live about 600
miles away. She ain’t scared I’ll leave her and go to you. She says she only wants me to be
happy. That’s love, you know. When you don’t care about yourself, just the other person.
(Pause) Ah, she ain’t so special. She’s got big ears she hides with her hair. She’s a little fat
and always goin’ on a diet, then eats chocolate and gets fat again. She ain’t so pretty, but she
smiles with her eyes. Yeah, they sure care about me. Must be my terrific personality.
From Surface Tension by Elyne Quan
Playwrights Guild of Canada
This play is an ironic exploration of surface appearances and the tensions created by the
undue importance attached to them.
WOMAN
(Sighs) I’ve always wanted to be taller. I’ve wanted to be taller and… different. Sometimes
blond. That would be something. I clearly remember that in grade one I wished I had blond
curly hair so I could wear pale blue ribbons in it and be really cute. Not just kind of cute, but
really cute. I was walking home for lunch. The sun was out and it was a beautiful day. I
was looking down at the ground at my silhouette - specifically my head – and I remember
wishing I had curly blond hair. I would be noticed. Pale blue ribbons and pigtails. And a
matching dress, frilly but not too frilly. And matching little blue shoes with white patent
bows on them. Shoes can make or break an outfit, you know. Well as hard as I wished I
never became blond. Go figure. And dye jobs in the early eighties weren’t the science they
are now. Curly blond hair for a little Chinese girl was bit far-fetched so I did the best I could.
Perms! So I could actually have curly pigtails if I wanted them. Of course I was older by
now so pigtails were out of the question. (Takes out a photo and presents it to the audience.)
Parted down the middle and curly and away from my face. Like the girl in Aha’s “Take On
Me” video. Yeah. So I had bad hair all the way through my formative years. But hair isn’t
everything.
From The Diary of Anne Frank by Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett (Newly adapted by
Wendy Kesselman)
Samuel French
Anne Frank was a young jewish girl who kept a diary while she and her family were in
hiding during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands.
ANNE
Sometimes I see myself alone in a dungeon, without Father and Mother, or I’m roaming the
streets, or the Annex is on fire, or they come in the middle of the night to take us away, and I
know it could all happen soon. I see the eight of us in the Annex as if we were a patch of blue
sky surrounded by menacing black clouds. The perfectly round spot on which we stand is
still safe, but the clouds are moving in on us, and the ring between us and the approaching
danger is being pulled tighter and tighter. We’re surrounded by darkness and danger, and in
our desperate search for a way out we keep bumping into each other. We look at the fighting
down below and the peace and beauty above, but we’re cut off by the dark mass of clouds
and can go neither up nor down. It looms before us, an impenetrable wall, trying to crush us,
but not yet able to. I can only cry out and implore, “Oh ring, ring, open wide and let us out!”
AUDITION MONOLOGUES - MALE
From Skin by Dennis Foon
Published in Skin and Liars by
Playwrights Canada Press
Tuan is a young man who recently arrived to Canada as a refugee and works as a cleaner
outside of school. In this monologue he is remembering his big brother who drowned on a
boat coming over from Vietnam.
( Although Tuan is of Asian heritage, for the purpose of this audition, this monologue can be
performed by anyone who understands the immigrant experience.)
TUAN
Sometimes late at night when I am mopping the floors, I stop and listen. The empty building,
so hollow. Buzzing of fluorescent tubes. Outside the rain beats against windows. I
feel…..like I’m underwater. I think: around the corner, my older brother will be standing.
Waiting to grab the mop from my hands, shouting, “You’re my little brother, why are you
working when you should be sleeping? Give that mop to me, that is my job!” And I look at
him and his hair is still wet, wet like it was the last time I saw him. I want to say, “Did you
swim, I thought you drowned. How did you find me here, in Canada, in this city, in this
building right now? You didn’t drown, you’re alive and you made it all the way to me.”
…. and I walk down the corridor, turn the corner and look. The hallway goes on forever. It’s
empty. No sound but the hum of the lights. And the rain against the windows.
From Papers by Alan Stratton
Samuel French
This play is a comedy about two lonely people. Charles is a University professor who is
struggling with his work. Charles is speaking to Myra, a neurotic academic.
CHARLES
For six years I have sat at that typewriter. I have stared at a blank sheet of paper. And it has
stared back. I have sat and sat and stared and stared and nothing has happened. Nothing!
Periodically, out of desperation, I have ripped it out and replaced it with another. And
another. And started again. And again. And again. Staring at this blank piece of paper.
And it staring back. I sit and I stare and I sit and I stare, listening to the radiator and the
relentless tick tick ticking of the clock, while the hours turn to weeks turn to months turn to
six years, my God and me sitting in the dark staring at a goddamn piece of paper that is
driving me out of my mind! And everyone is asking, “What are you working on?” “How’s it
coming?” And me saying anything to shut them up. Anything to make the questions go
away. But they don’t. Every day they get louder. And how do I tell them my voices have
left me? How do I tell myself that? That – my God - they may never come again. Writing is
who I am. If I don’t write, what am I? And I sit and I sit and I sit trying to forget the clock
that tells me life is short, it’s drifting away, it’s slipping away like water, I can’t hold it, and
every day is another day gone and time is running out and I may never write again.
From The Producers by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan
MTI Shows
The Producers is a 1968 American satirical comedy film. Leo is the accountant and Max
Bialystock is a Producer. Before sentencing, Leo makes an impassioned statement to the
court praising Max Bialystock for changing his life and being his friend (while also
referring to him as "the most selfish man I have ever met in my life"), and Max tells the judge
that they have learned their lesson.
LEO BLOOM
I would like to say something your honor, not on my behalf, but in reference to my partner,
Mr. Bialystock…your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Max Bialystock is the most
selfish man I ever met in my life…Not only is he a liar, and a cheat, and a scoundrel, and a
crook, who has taken money from little old ladies, he has also talked people into doing
things, especially me, they would never in a thousand years had dreamed of doing. But, your
honor, as I understand it, the law was created to protect people from being wronged. Your
honor, whom has Max Bialystock wronged? I mean, whom has he really hurt? Not me. Not
me. I was…this man…no one ever called me Leo before. I mean, I know it’s not a big legal
point, but even in kindergarten they used to call me Bloom. I never sang a song before. I
mean with someone else, I never sang a song with someone else before. This man…this
man…this is a wonderful man. He made me what I am today…he did. And what of the dear
ladies? What would their lives have been without Max Bialystock? Max Bialystock, who
made them feel young, and attractive, and wanted again. That’s all I have to say.
From You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown by Clark Gesner
Tams-Whitmark Music Library, Inc.
This is a comedy about “an average day in the life of Charlie Brown.” It really is just that, a
day made up of little moments picked from all the days of Charlie Brown, from Valentine’s
Day to the baseball season, to lunchtime at school.
CHARLIE BROWN
I think lunchtime is about the worst time of the day for me. Always having to sit here alone.
Of course, sometimes mornings aren’t so pleasant, either – waking up and wondering if
anyone would really miss me if I never got out of bed. Then there’s the night, too – lying
there and thinking about all the stupid things I’ve done during the day. And all those hours in
between – when I do all those stupid things. Well, lunchtime is among the worst times of the
day for me. Well, I guess I’d better see what I’ve got. (He opens the bag, unwraps a
sandwich, and looks inside.) Peanut butter. (He bites and chews.) Some psychiatrists say that
people who eat peanut butter sandwiches are lonely. I guess they’re right. And if you’re
really lonely, the peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth. (He munches quietly, idly
fingering the bench.) Boy, the PTA sure did a good job of painting these benches. (He looks
off to one side.) There’s that cute little redheaded girl eating her lunch over there. I wonder
what she’d do if I went over and asked her if I could sit and have lunch with her. She’d
probably laugh right in my face. It’s hard on a face when it gets laughed in. There’s an empty
place next to her on the bench. There’s no reason why I couldn’t just go over and sit there. I
could do that right now. All I have to do is stand up. (He stands.) I’m standing up. (He sits.)
I’m sitting down. I’m a coward. I’m so much of a coward she wouldn’t even think of looking
at me. In fact, I can’t remember her ever looking at me. Why shouldn’t she look at me? Is
there any reason in the world why she shouldn’t look at me? Is she so great and am I so small
that she couldn’t spare one little moment just to…(He freezes.) She’s looking at me. (In
terror, he looks one way, then another.) She’s looking at me.
From One Thousand Cranes by Colin Thomas
Published by Simon and Pierre publishing Co. Ltd- trade paperback.
A 12 year old Canadian boy tries to cope with his fear of nuclear war. This powerful drama
celebrates hope and peace for the future.
BUDDY
The end of the world? Oh, snap! I’ve gotta tell you. It was so weird. I was in the mall?.... and
this crazy guy, he walks right up to me and starts screaming. “ Are you ready for the end of
the world?” And I just stand there. I mean, what am I supposed to do? And then he takes off.
Feeeow! Like he’s being chased by the police from the planet Bazonkers. And then I went
into the stereo store and all these T.V’s in the store were showing this guy and there’s been
an accident in this nuclear reactor. And this guy looks awful - all burned up and everything.
And then all of a sudden all of these T.V’s, all hundred and seventy million of them, they
zoom in on this one guy, real close, and I look into his eyes, and .... it’s like I’m in the T.V’s!
I feel like I am that guy! And I can feel my body, like what his body feels like. And it’s
burning! Like my body was burning up, I felt like I was gonna throw up, I felt like I was
gonna die! And then a commercial comes on and I’m saved. Oooohohoho. Isn’t that weird? It
made me think about.... the end of the world...you know.... the real end of the world... like
nuclear war.
The Claude Watson Secondary Arts Program is housed at Earl Haig Secondary School