Wanna get a sneak peak of the Canadian Cast of JERSEY BOYS, LIVE ON TV?
You're in luck!
Yours truly will be front and centre as we ring in the New Year on CITY TV live from Nathan Phillips Square. We begin with Auld Lang Syne at Midnight, followed by 10 minutes of the most exciting Musical Theatre you'll see anywhere.
Catch us live, tape us on your PVR, DVR, and if you're still living in the 90's your VCR.
You don't want to miss it.
CITY TV's New Year's Eve Bash entertains up to 40,000 people live at Nathan Phillips Square, and it's live broadcast reaches up to 500,000 Canadians across the country. It begins at 10:30pm, and runs till about 12:30am. You don't want to miss the action at midnight!
The secret will really be let out Wednesday night. Everyone will know why this show is such a hit.
About Me
- Jeff Madden
- Toronto, Ontario, Canada
- A long-time Toronto-area Actor and Singer, Jeff Madden is now focusing on Teaching acting and singing in the GTA. Jeff starred as "Frankie Valli" in both the Toronto and Australian productions of JERSEY BOYS, winning the DORA award for outstanding performance in a musical by a male actor. Jeff is busy back at school, getting his MEd at U of T's OISE.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
You want an update? Here, a Jersey Update.
Here we are, 10 shows in, and you're dying to know.
'Madden, how's it going NOW???', you ask.
In a word, Awesome.
The show is still a monster, still a major challenge just to get through in one piece, but now it seems do-able. What's more, it's starting to become enjoyable, rather than terrifying. (He said, half-joking.)
Don't get me wrong, I still screw stuff up, just about every show. I think I had one clean show, but in my books, until you do three or four clean shows in a row, you're still previewing. Which we're not really doing, but we still tell ourselves we are. Makes us feel better. More protected. I think it's fair. (BTW, I heard the major media all coming back to re-review the show mid-January, to compare the Toronto cast to the Touring production.)
Anyhoo, the biggest difference for me between show #1 and show #10 is that I have found places to breathe. Seriously. Those stupid-high falsetto notes come out easier if you actually have air in your lungs. Who knew? Yeah, when you relax just a bit, everything starts to work much better. Strange, that.
Another big difference is knowing how the crowd is going to react (or not react, as the case may be) at any given moment. After 10 shows we've pretty much seen and heard 95% of the probable reactions. (My 2nd year Stats class coming into play there... Parabolic curves, anyone?) This also helps me to relax a bit more, too.
Clearly, repetition helps everybody involved in the show tweak their business to make it better. It seems rather obvious, but the show becomes much more than the sum of its parts.
But, there's one more intangible at work here. Now, after 10 shows, I know I can do it. The show has this fabled split lead part - the Frankie's only do six shows a week, and an alternate does it twice a week. Ever since I heard about the show, I was aware of this. Nobody can do eight a week - it's too demanding. The guys who tried it all died horrible onstage deaths... well, maybe I'm exaggerating.
The point is, they drum it into your head that it's an impossibly difficult role, and that in the words of the original Broadway Frankie (Tony-award winning John Lloyd Young) you have to "live like a Monk" to pull it off night after night. But, the reality for me was, I worked my ass off like never before during my seven weeks of rehearsal, and at the end of the last week - the longest week of all, tech week - I did four shows in 48 hours and lived to tell the story.
With each passing show, everything - the scenes, the steps, the notes - has all sunk further into my body. I have to say, I'm really enjoying working with my incredibly talented cast and crew. And, the crowds have been incredibly enthusiastic - sometimes cheering mid-song, sometimes giving standing O's mid-show, sometimes tears flowing freely at the end.
It's such a great job, and I am so lucky to be doing it.
(*6 times a week)
Thanks to those of you who emailed me, or commented on the last blog. It's really nice to get feedback, especially from those of you who I don't know. Keep sending those post-show comments - I love hearing what you enjoyed most about the show.
Have a great holidays everyone! Raise one for me!
'Madden, how's it going NOW???', you ask.
In a word, Awesome.
The show is still a monster, still a major challenge just to get through in one piece, but now it seems do-able. What's more, it's starting to become enjoyable, rather than terrifying. (He said, half-joking.)
Don't get me wrong, I still screw stuff up, just about every show. I think I had one clean show, but in my books, until you do three or four clean shows in a row, you're still previewing. Which we're not really doing, but we still tell ourselves we are. Makes us feel better. More protected. I think it's fair. (BTW, I heard the major media all coming back to re-review the show mid-January, to compare the Toronto cast to the Touring production.)
Anyhoo, the biggest difference for me between show #1 and show #10 is that I have found places to breathe. Seriously. Those stupid-high falsetto notes come out easier if you actually have air in your lungs. Who knew? Yeah, when you relax just a bit, everything starts to work much better. Strange, that.
Another big difference is knowing how the crowd is going to react (or not react, as the case may be) at any given moment. After 10 shows we've pretty much seen and heard 95% of the probable reactions. (My 2nd year Stats class coming into play there... Parabolic curves, anyone?) This also helps me to relax a bit more, too.
Clearly, repetition helps everybody involved in the show tweak their business to make it better. It seems rather obvious, but the show becomes much more than the sum of its parts.
But, there's one more intangible at work here. Now, after 10 shows, I know I can do it. The show has this fabled split lead part - the Frankie's only do six shows a week, and an alternate does it twice a week. Ever since I heard about the show, I was aware of this. Nobody can do eight a week - it's too demanding. The guys who tried it all died horrible onstage deaths... well, maybe I'm exaggerating.
The point is, they drum it into your head that it's an impossibly difficult role, and that in the words of the original Broadway Frankie (Tony-award winning John Lloyd Young) you have to "live like a Monk" to pull it off night after night. But, the reality for me was, I worked my ass off like never before during my seven weeks of rehearsal, and at the end of the last week - the longest week of all, tech week - I did four shows in 48 hours and lived to tell the story.
With each passing show, everything - the scenes, the steps, the notes - has all sunk further into my body. I have to say, I'm really enjoying working with my incredibly talented cast and crew. And, the crowds have been incredibly enthusiastic - sometimes cheering mid-song, sometimes giving standing O's mid-show, sometimes tears flowing freely at the end.
It's such a great job, and I am so lucky to be doing it.
(*6 times a week)
Thanks to those of you who emailed me, or commented on the last blog. It's really nice to get feedback, especially from those of you who I don't know. Keep sending those post-show comments - I love hearing what you enjoyed most about the show.
Have a great holidays everyone! Raise one for me!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Thrilling Moments
Sunday Night, December 14, 2008
It's true. The Canadian production of Jersey Boys is officially "Open". (I use the quotes because we're still rehearsing a couple times a week on top of doing shows. In other theatres, this is called the "Preview" period.) And we're not just "Open", we're a Hit. Since Friday night, we have given four shows, and have received four Standing Ovations!
The past seven days have been a whirlwind. Heck, the past seven weeks have been crazy. It feels strange sitting here on the other side of it all. It's hard to communicate just how intense this time has been. We're on top of the mountain now, after all the blood, sweat and tears spent doing the daily climb, and it feels oddly unsettling. My head's still spinning from it all.
Don't get me wrong, it feels great to be performing now. More than great. Thrilling. It's just, the rehearsal period was so intense, that it seems strange not to be going back to the grind of 10- to 12-hour days.
I've never experienced such an all-encompassing rehearsal period in my life. One reason could be the slightly shortened rehearsal period. There are five other productions of Jersey Boys playing in the world, and none of them have been put up in six weeks. But we somehow managed to do it. (Kudos to us Canadians, eh!)
Another reason for my perceived vertigo is probably the size of my role - it's enormous. For those of you who haven't seen the show, I'll try to give you an idea. Other than intermission, I see my dressing room exactly once during the whole show, for about two minutes. There simply is not enough time off-stage to make the trip any other time. I have 11 full or partial costume changes in the wings, the fastest of which is seven seconds. Of the 19 songs in Act 1, I sing in 13. In Act 2, I sing lead on all 12 songs. I am onstage for all but three minutes of Act 2. The sheer amount of material I had to understand, learn, and then master was enormous.
I say 'master'. Well, that is open for interpretation. Sure, there are hundreds of things I nail every run. Whatever, that's expected of me. But, there are still plenty of things I get wrong every time we do a run. Most are imperceptible to the audience, thank goodness, but some are not. The key is instantly forgetting the mistake - it's in the past, you can't change it anyway, just go forward, get back on track. This is easier said than done, sometimes. But, it is the key. Stay in the moment, whatever the moment turns out to be. And I know that very soon, I'll be nailing every moment every night.
I must say, I was quite nervous for our first audience Friday night. Although we had done three or four solid runs in the rehearsal hall, we had only done one run with full tech and costumes in the theatre before our first show. Let me spell it out. We rehearsed in a rehearsal hall for five weeks, before moving into the theatre for four days of technical rehearsals. During tech, there are dozens of tiny little changes to the feel of the show. Spike marks change slightly for set pieces we move. Instead of a bright rehearsal room, everthing is now dark. Instead of hearing the rehearsal piano, we now have a full band being mixed through speakers and monitors. Sometimes you hear them great, other times you can barely pick out what key your in. Actors you've become accustomed to seeing as themselves, now have wigs on. Drinks are now used, instead of miming, or using water. Your own voice sounds different because we're all wearing microphones. Virtually each of our senses has been affected in this move from rehearsal hall into the theatre. So it's only natural for nerves to be a part of the equation. It takes the first few shows for all this to gel.
That being said, Friday night was a huge success. The cast was obviously primed and ready to finally do what we've been working so hard at, and there was definitely a palpable energy in the crowd. Applause flowed after the opening number ("Ces Soirees-La") was finished. On my first entrance (during "Silhouettes") - literally skipping and snapping across a catwalk - there were cheers. I definitely did not expect that, and it filled me with confidence. Ditto for the applause after I finished my first song ("I Can't Give you Anything But Love"). Five minutes in, and the amazing Jeremy Kushnier is getting all his laughs in our first scene together. This puts me at ease. After this, I can feel my breath settling deeper.
I screw up my first bit of choreography in "I Go Ape". It was bound to happen at some point, and I remember actually feeling relieved that it happened in that number, which is supposed to be funny anyway. But, I'm find myself tense again for my next song, "Moody's Mood For Love", which is one of the hardest in the show. I barely get through it without showing signs of the flop sweat that instantly came over me. Anyway, forget that. Move forward. Be in the Moment.
Things get back on track leading up to the first big moment in the play, "Sherry", the Four Seasons first Number 1 hit. The audience goes crazy. Seriously. I would describe what I heard as a 'roar'. That was the first thrilling moment of the night. "Big Girls Don't Cry" and "Walk Like A Man" followed, with a few minor mis-steps on my part, but the crowd goes wild again. Thrilling moment #2.
A few minutes off stage, a few more scenes and songs, and I remember thinking the cast is really 'On' tonight. I can tell it's a special evening. You can feel it in the air.
Act 2 is like a 55-minute roller-coaster for me. Literally one thing after another. It's pretty much a blur in my mind right now, as it is when I'm actually doing the show. There's just zero time to think, to process how things went, what could be done better next time, what's coming up, what notes I got from the director for that scene - all the stuff that you can usually think about during the show. I remember nailing my little dance-break leading into "Beggin'". I remember the 'Sit-down' scene going really well. You could hear a pin drop. And of course, I remember the response to "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You". You want to talk thrilling? That was definitely Thrilling Moment #1, #2, and #3 all put together. I will never forget that moment. I was truly loving singing it to them, and they were loving hearing it. That's really cool.
Later in the act, I remember hearing sobs, sniffles, and tiny coughs during the "Fallen Angel" scene. That kinda threw me a little but, because its a private moment, when I'm at my most vulnerable. But, thinking back on it, it will be welcome to hear those sounds because it lets me know they are connected to my story. This moment goes right into "Rag Doll" which has to be the hardest song in the world to get right after doing the previous 30 minutes. On it's own, it's easy. But not in sequence. I remember making one or two obvious mistakes in the choreo. Whatever. I moved on.
The Final sequence with "Who Loves You?" and the Bows ("Oh What A Night, Reprise")were the cherry on top. Thrilling Moments #4 + #5. What a night, indeed! Standing ovations are never tiresome, as far as I'm concerned. They literally leaped to their feet. And stayed there, clapping and singing along.
After the show, we had about an hour of notes from the production team, to help us right the wrongs for the next show Saturday afternoon. And with each show, there is a different energy from the crowd. Different things are nailed, different things go awry. That's all part of the process of learning how to run this show in the theatre. I'm proud to say I did both shows Saturday and the Sunday matinee, and each one got a little bit better.
I am incredibly lucky to be playing this part, being in this Tony award winning show, and sharing the stage with so many multi-talented actors, singers, dancers, and musicians. I know that the Thrilling Moments are gonna keep on coming.
I can't wait to share this show with you all. Come see it soon. And for those of you who have seen the new cast, what are your favorite moments? Comment below.
It's true. The Canadian production of Jersey Boys is officially "Open". (I use the quotes because we're still rehearsing a couple times a week on top of doing shows. In other theatres, this is called the "Preview" period.) And we're not just "Open", we're a Hit. Since Friday night, we have given four shows, and have received four Standing Ovations!
The past seven days have been a whirlwind. Heck, the past seven weeks have been crazy. It feels strange sitting here on the other side of it all. It's hard to communicate just how intense this time has been. We're on top of the mountain now, after all the blood, sweat and tears spent doing the daily climb, and it feels oddly unsettling. My head's still spinning from it all.
Don't get me wrong, it feels great to be performing now. More than great. Thrilling. It's just, the rehearsal period was so intense, that it seems strange not to be going back to the grind of 10- to 12-hour days.
I've never experienced such an all-encompassing rehearsal period in my life. One reason could be the slightly shortened rehearsal period. There are five other productions of Jersey Boys playing in the world, and none of them have been put up in six weeks. But we somehow managed to do it. (Kudos to us Canadians, eh!)
Another reason for my perceived vertigo is probably the size of my role - it's enormous. For those of you who haven't seen the show, I'll try to give you an idea. Other than intermission, I see my dressing room exactly once during the whole show, for about two minutes. There simply is not enough time off-stage to make the trip any other time. I have 11 full or partial costume changes in the wings, the fastest of which is seven seconds. Of the 19 songs in Act 1, I sing in 13. In Act 2, I sing lead on all 12 songs. I am onstage for all but three minutes of Act 2. The sheer amount of material I had to understand, learn, and then master was enormous.
I say 'master'. Well, that is open for interpretation. Sure, there are hundreds of things I nail every run. Whatever, that's expected of me. But, there are still plenty of things I get wrong every time we do a run. Most are imperceptible to the audience, thank goodness, but some are not. The key is instantly forgetting the mistake - it's in the past, you can't change it anyway, just go forward, get back on track. This is easier said than done, sometimes. But, it is the key. Stay in the moment, whatever the moment turns out to be. And I know that very soon, I'll be nailing every moment every night.
I must say, I was quite nervous for our first audience Friday night. Although we had done three or four solid runs in the rehearsal hall, we had only done one run with full tech and costumes in the theatre before our first show. Let me spell it out. We rehearsed in a rehearsal hall for five weeks, before moving into the theatre for four days of technical rehearsals. During tech, there are dozens of tiny little changes to the feel of the show. Spike marks change slightly for set pieces we move. Instead of a bright rehearsal room, everthing is now dark. Instead of hearing the rehearsal piano, we now have a full band being mixed through speakers and monitors. Sometimes you hear them great, other times you can barely pick out what key your in. Actors you've become accustomed to seeing as themselves, now have wigs on. Drinks are now used, instead of miming, or using water. Your own voice sounds different because we're all wearing microphones. Virtually each of our senses has been affected in this move from rehearsal hall into the theatre. So it's only natural for nerves to be a part of the equation. It takes the first few shows for all this to gel.
That being said, Friday night was a huge success. The cast was obviously primed and ready to finally do what we've been working so hard at, and there was definitely a palpable energy in the crowd. Applause flowed after the opening number ("Ces Soirees-La") was finished. On my first entrance (during "Silhouettes") - literally skipping and snapping across a catwalk - there were cheers. I definitely did not expect that, and it filled me with confidence. Ditto for the applause after I finished my first song ("I Can't Give you Anything But Love"). Five minutes in, and the amazing Jeremy Kushnier is getting all his laughs in our first scene together. This puts me at ease. After this, I can feel my breath settling deeper.
I screw up my first bit of choreography in "I Go Ape". It was bound to happen at some point, and I remember actually feeling relieved that it happened in that number, which is supposed to be funny anyway. But, I'm find myself tense again for my next song, "Moody's Mood For Love", which is one of the hardest in the show. I barely get through it without showing signs of the flop sweat that instantly came over me. Anyway, forget that. Move forward. Be in the Moment.
Things get back on track leading up to the first big moment in the play, "Sherry", the Four Seasons first Number 1 hit. The audience goes crazy. Seriously. I would describe what I heard as a 'roar'. That was the first thrilling moment of the night. "Big Girls Don't Cry" and "Walk Like A Man" followed, with a few minor mis-steps on my part, but the crowd goes wild again. Thrilling moment #2.
A few minutes off stage, a few more scenes and songs, and I remember thinking the cast is really 'On' tonight. I can tell it's a special evening. You can feel it in the air.
Act 2 is like a 55-minute roller-coaster for me. Literally one thing after another. It's pretty much a blur in my mind right now, as it is when I'm actually doing the show. There's just zero time to think, to process how things went, what could be done better next time, what's coming up, what notes I got from the director for that scene - all the stuff that you can usually think about during the show. I remember nailing my little dance-break leading into "Beggin'". I remember the 'Sit-down' scene going really well. You could hear a pin drop. And of course, I remember the response to "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You". You want to talk thrilling? That was definitely Thrilling Moment #1, #2, and #3 all put together. I will never forget that moment. I was truly loving singing it to them, and they were loving hearing it. That's really cool.
Later in the act, I remember hearing sobs, sniffles, and tiny coughs during the "Fallen Angel" scene. That kinda threw me a little but, because its a private moment, when I'm at my most vulnerable. But, thinking back on it, it will be welcome to hear those sounds because it lets me know they are connected to my story. This moment goes right into "Rag Doll" which has to be the hardest song in the world to get right after doing the previous 30 minutes. On it's own, it's easy. But not in sequence. I remember making one or two obvious mistakes in the choreo. Whatever. I moved on.
The Final sequence with "Who Loves You?" and the Bows ("Oh What A Night, Reprise")were the cherry on top. Thrilling Moments #4 + #5. What a night, indeed! Standing ovations are never tiresome, as far as I'm concerned. They literally leaped to their feet. And stayed there, clapping and singing along.
After the show, we had about an hour of notes from the production team, to help us right the wrongs for the next show Saturday afternoon. And with each show, there is a different energy from the crowd. Different things are nailed, different things go awry. That's all part of the process of learning how to run this show in the theatre. I'm proud to say I did both shows Saturday and the Sunday matinee, and each one got a little bit better.
I am incredibly lucky to be playing this part, being in this Tony award winning show, and sharing the stage with so many multi-talented actors, singers, dancers, and musicians. I know that the Thrilling Moments are gonna keep on coming.
I can't wait to share this show with you all. Come see it soon. And for those of you who have seen the new cast, what are your favorite moments? Comment below.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Jersey Boy
Hey Everybody,
So the worst-kept secret in town is no longer ...
I am thrilled to announce that I'll be playing Frankie Valli in the Toronto production of Jersey Boys! Our first show is Dec 12, 2008. Rehearsals are going extremely well as we gear up for opening.
The show is at the Toronto Centre of the Arts, 5040 Yonge St., just north of Sheppard Ave. It is just a 2-minute walk from North York Centre Subway Station.
Please check out Jerseyboystoronto.com for ticket information.
If you are planning to come see me in this show - and I highly recommend you do!!! - I want you to aware fo something...
***Please Note:
I will only be doing the evening shows, Tuesday through Saturday, plus the Sunday matinee. If you come to the Wednesday or Saturday matinee, Adrian Marchuk will be playing the part. It will still be a great show, I can absolutely guarantee it. You just won't be seeing me.
OK, friends, I hope to see you all there! Do send me a note when you're coming, and after the show stop by the stage door to say hi.
Take care, everyone.
So the worst-kept secret in town is no longer ...
I am thrilled to announce that I'll be playing Frankie Valli in the Toronto production of Jersey Boys! Our first show is Dec 12, 2008. Rehearsals are going extremely well as we gear up for opening.
The show is at the Toronto Centre of the Arts, 5040 Yonge St., just north of Sheppard Ave. It is just a 2-minute walk from North York Centre Subway Station.
Please check out Jerseyboystoronto.com for ticket information.
If you are planning to come see me in this show - and I highly recommend you do!!! - I want you to aware fo something...
***Please Note:
I will only be doing the evening shows, Tuesday through Saturday, plus the Sunday matinee. If you come to the Wednesday or Saturday matinee, Adrian Marchuk will be playing the part. It will still be a great show, I can absolutely guarantee it. You just won't be seeing me.
OK, friends, I hope to see you all there! Do send me a note when you're coming, and after the show stop by the stage door to say hi.
Take care, everyone.
How I Got To Jersey
So, how did it all happen? Details, I want details! Well, it’s a long story...
JULY
In late July, a casting notice came to my agent for upcoming auditions as “future replacements” for the various productions of Jersey Boys around the world. There was no time line for when a job might come up. This audition was basically for the producers of Jersey Boys to keep a long list of potential actors from which to choose replacements, if and when the time should arise. It’s pretty standard stuff with these long-running commercial shows.
My agent and I thought it would be a good idea to audition, thinking long term. Maybe next summer when I would be free, if things went really well something might come up. The audition notice said to prepare a song of my choosing, and I was sent about a million pages of scenes to prepare for the character ‘Frankie Valli'.
So, I auditioned. First auditions are always really nerve-wracking. You do hours and hours of prep-work on your own, with nothing but your own instincts guiding you. You could be on right track, or you could be completely off base. I was asked to sing first. I didn’t love how I sang, but afterwards they tested my range – waaaaayyyyy up high. Like crazy-falsetto high. I thought – ‘Hmm, that’s a good sign’. I got no feedback. Then I did a couple scenes with a reader. 'That went pretty well,' I thought. Again, very little feedback. Then, finally, “OK, thanks…”, and I left the room. So, I went home, back to work at the Shaw, thinking nothing of it.
The next day I get a call saying they want me to come back later in the week. They want to do a “work session” with me. I’ll be spending half-an-hour getting direction on the scenes and character work, and 20-minutes working on three songs from the show (Walk Like A Man, Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You, and Moody’s Mood). Oh yeah, and there’s a dance call, too. I remember thinking ,‘YES! This is a good sign!.
Then, I remember thinking, ‘UGHHHHH, Crap!’ Why a dance call??? I soooo love dance calls. They are so much fun. Too many guys thrown together into a room too small and too hot, trying to learn some choreography they’ve never seen before, and then performing this choreo in front of a panel an hour later. Even the memory of this makes me shudder.
Anyway, the work-session/dance call actually went well. I left that day feeling surprisingly upbeat. I got great feedback on the scenes and songs. And I didn’t fall over in the dance call. I felt, ‘Hey, maybe this thing could happen after all!’
The next day, back at Shaw, the phone rings. My agent Kish says "They want to fly you down to New York City to audition again, right away!" "That’s Awesome!!!" I say. "But, what for?" Kish explained that they were having some finals down there, and it seemed like I was being fast-tracked. Unfortunately, it turned out that I couldn’t make it - on the day of the audition, I had a 2-show day at Shaw. Ouch. I remember feeling really down. That one hurt.
AUGUST
About a month passed with no further word. Like before, I put it out of my mind… or at least I try to. Then, Kish calls with word of some final auditions in late September in Toronto. Same material as before, but for the original Broadway director. Oh, and another dance call, this time for the original choreographer. Yikes. I ask Kish, "But which production is it for – the US Tour, Chicago … Broadway?!?!?" "I don’t know. Nobody’s saying”, he replied.
SEPTEMBER
The day comes. We do the dance call. Luckily, it’s the same steps as before. I don’t fall down. Phew. My audition time comes. I go in. Say hi. Do the same three songs. “Good.” Do a bunch of scenes, one after another. “Good.” Silence. I wait. Then, “OK, thanks…” That’s it, about 10 minutes, and I walk out of the room.
Afterwards, I start feeling elated, actually. It was over!!! And, I did everything exactly the way I wanted to! Sure, I didn’t get a lot of feedback, but that’s nothing new. Amazing, isn’t it? All that work comes down to a measly 10 minutes in the room. What a crazy business I'm in.
So, I get the part, right? Not quite. A few days pass with no news. We get some feedback that they really liked me. Kish and I think, ‘OK, mission accomplished. Next summer, we got a chance at a great gig.’
A few days later, Kish is on the horn again. "Jeff, they want you to go back to New York." "What the heck for?" "I don’t know exactly, but they want you to audition for Bob Gaudio." "But I thought I was being seen for Frankie Valli." "No, Jeff – the real Bob Gaudio from the Four Seasons wants to see you. Same material… Congrats." Gulp. It seems that the finals weren’t really finals after all. Seems like Mr. Gaudio has some casting authority. It's all good, though.
One week later, I’m in a Yellow Cab and the driver is right out of the Sopranos. A real Jersey boy, he’s hilarious. Tells me about his friends, one who he helps out with his addiction to prescription meds, another who he gives advice to when he calls from his bender gambling trips to Vegas. I take this guy as a good sign. He should be a character from the show.
I’m put up at a nice hotel on 45th, right in the heart of Manhattan. Swank. I sleep well. I enjoy my leisurely morning before getting ready to go. It's a beautiful day, so I walk the 20 blocks to the audition studio. All is right in the world. The audition goes well. Same deal, quick hellos, say hey to Mr. Gaudio, do the songs, do the scenes, and Bob’s your Uncle. -Ish. I walk out of there feeling really good.
I fly back to Niagara, do my two shows and wait. I figure, ‘if they’re going to all this trouble and expense, they must really be interested in me’. But where? When? Who knows?
A couple days later, it’s Kish again. "Well, what’s the news?" I ask excitedly. "You have to go back to New York, Jeff. This time, Frankie Valli wants to see you." "WTF?!?!" I exclaim. "Any idea for which production, where, etc?…" "Nope. Just have fun."
OCTOBER
It’s the final week of my contract at Shaw, and as contemplate my future, I begin to dream about some well-earned time off. But a few days later, an interesting bit of information comes our way. It seems that the producers have officially decided to run a sit-down production of Jersey Boys in Toronto, to begin immediately after the touring production leaves town. Holy Crap. Now, it all starts to make sense.
Two days later, I’m back in NYC at the same hotel, eating the same breakfast, and walking to the same audition studio. But, this time, the nerves are different. I know what’s at stake. This is for all the marbles. It’s for Toronto. It’s for right now. It will very likely screw up my three upcoming contracts. And it could be the opportunity of a lifetime, if it works out.
My stomach is in knots. The audition starts 25-minutes late. And to make matters worse, the casting director wants us to read a paragraph of dialogue we’ve never done before. Finally, I go in. The real Frankie Valli is front and centre, staring at me. This must be really weird for him. He says something meant to make me feel at ease, but it doesn’t work. I feel like an imposter. ‘I don’t really know you’, I think. ‘I just learned some crazy high songs, and memorized some speeches. You’re gonna know I’m faking it.’
Crap! Time’s up. My mind is flitting about as I’m singing his songs. To him! I screw up a lyric here and there. ‘Jesus, man, hang on. You can do this,’ I tell myself. Somehow, I make it to the scenes. They go better. Maybe it’s because I have someone else to work off of. Phew! ‘Thank God there’s no dance call!’ I think. I walk out stirred, but not shaken. As I quickly change into my street clothes, I start thinking about how good that first drink is going to taste. (It was a Stella, and it tasted fabulous!!!).
When I get off the airplane, I turn on my phone. There’s a text from Kish. It has three words. ‘Offer coming tomorrow.’ Holy crap!!! I drive home floating on a cloud of Jersey goodness.
The week that followed was one of highs and lows, as it occurred to me just how quickly my life was going to change. First, my family has to move closer to Toronto. Second, we have to rent our house in Niagara-on-the-Lake. The other 500 things can get done later. Rehearsals are set to begin November 3rd. That gives me 17 days to move, find a tenant, and accomplish all these other tasks. What a crazy business.
BUT, wait... the craziness wasn't over yet! The week before rehearsals begin, I have to fly back down to New York again. And from there, I'm off to Nashville, TN for three days of work with the real Bob Gaudio and renowned voice coach Katie Agresta. We work through about a dozen songs from the show, trying to find a way in to make Jeff Madden sound like Frankie Valli without killing Jeff Madden. It's a work-in-progress of course, and an amazing experience.
Can this crazy ride get any crazier? Something tells me, this is only the beginning!
I guess this is what comes of
JULY
In late July, a casting notice came to my agent for upcoming auditions as “future replacements” for the various productions of Jersey Boys around the world. There was no time line for when a job might come up. This audition was basically for the producers of Jersey Boys to keep a long list of potential actors from which to choose replacements, if and when the time should arise. It’s pretty standard stuff with these long-running commercial shows.
My agent and I thought it would be a good idea to audition, thinking long term. Maybe next summer when I would be free, if things went really well something might come up. The audition notice said to prepare a song of my choosing, and I was sent about a million pages of scenes to prepare for the character ‘Frankie Valli'.
So, I auditioned. First auditions are always really nerve-wracking. You do hours and hours of prep-work on your own, with nothing but your own instincts guiding you. You could be on right track, or you could be completely off base. I was asked to sing first. I didn’t love how I sang, but afterwards they tested my range – waaaaayyyyy up high. Like crazy-falsetto high. I thought – ‘Hmm, that’s a good sign’. I got no feedback. Then I did a couple scenes with a reader. 'That went pretty well,' I thought. Again, very little feedback. Then, finally, “OK, thanks…”, and I left the room. So, I went home, back to work at the Shaw, thinking nothing of it.
The next day I get a call saying they want me to come back later in the week. They want to do a “work session” with me. I’ll be spending half-an-hour getting direction on the scenes and character work, and 20-minutes working on three songs from the show (Walk Like A Man, Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You, and Moody’s Mood). Oh yeah, and there’s a dance call, too. I remember thinking ,‘YES! This is a good sign!.
Then, I remember thinking, ‘UGHHHHH, Crap!’ Why a dance call??? I soooo love dance calls. They are so much fun. Too many guys thrown together into a room too small and too hot, trying to learn some choreography they’ve never seen before, and then performing this choreo in front of a panel an hour later. Even the memory of this makes me shudder.
Anyway, the work-session/dance call actually went well. I left that day feeling surprisingly upbeat. I got great feedback on the scenes and songs. And I didn’t fall over in the dance call. I felt, ‘Hey, maybe this thing could happen after all!’
The next day, back at Shaw, the phone rings. My agent Kish says "They want to fly you down to New York City to audition again, right away!" "That’s Awesome!!!" I say. "But, what for?" Kish explained that they were having some finals down there, and it seemed like I was being fast-tracked. Unfortunately, it turned out that I couldn’t make it - on the day of the audition, I had a 2-show day at Shaw. Ouch. I remember feeling really down. That one hurt.
AUGUST
About a month passed with no further word. Like before, I put it out of my mind… or at least I try to. Then, Kish calls with word of some final auditions in late September in Toronto. Same material as before, but for the original Broadway director. Oh, and another dance call, this time for the original choreographer. Yikes. I ask Kish, "But which production is it for – the US Tour, Chicago … Broadway?!?!?" "I don’t know. Nobody’s saying”, he replied.
SEPTEMBER
The day comes. We do the dance call. Luckily, it’s the same steps as before. I don’t fall down. Phew. My audition time comes. I go in. Say hi. Do the same three songs. “Good.” Do a bunch of scenes, one after another. “Good.” Silence. I wait. Then, “OK, thanks…” That’s it, about 10 minutes, and I walk out of the room.
Afterwards, I start feeling elated, actually. It was over!!! And, I did everything exactly the way I wanted to! Sure, I didn’t get a lot of feedback, but that’s nothing new. Amazing, isn’t it? All that work comes down to a measly 10 minutes in the room. What a crazy business I'm in.
So, I get the part, right? Not quite. A few days pass with no news. We get some feedback that they really liked me. Kish and I think, ‘OK, mission accomplished. Next summer, we got a chance at a great gig.’
A few days later, Kish is on the horn again. "Jeff, they want you to go back to New York." "What the heck for?" "I don’t know exactly, but they want you to audition for Bob Gaudio." "But I thought I was being seen for Frankie Valli." "No, Jeff – the real Bob Gaudio from the Four Seasons wants to see you. Same material… Congrats." Gulp. It seems that the finals weren’t really finals after all. Seems like Mr. Gaudio has some casting authority. It's all good, though.
One week later, I’m in a Yellow Cab and the driver is right out of the Sopranos. A real Jersey boy, he’s hilarious. Tells me about his friends, one who he helps out with his addiction to prescription meds, another who he gives advice to when he calls from his bender gambling trips to Vegas. I take this guy as a good sign. He should be a character from the show.
I’m put up at a nice hotel on 45th, right in the heart of Manhattan. Swank. I sleep well. I enjoy my leisurely morning before getting ready to go. It's a beautiful day, so I walk the 20 blocks to the audition studio. All is right in the world. The audition goes well. Same deal, quick hellos, say hey to Mr. Gaudio, do the songs, do the scenes, and Bob’s your Uncle. -Ish. I walk out of there feeling really good.
I fly back to Niagara, do my two shows and wait. I figure, ‘if they’re going to all this trouble and expense, they must really be interested in me’. But where? When? Who knows?
A couple days later, it’s Kish again. "Well, what’s the news?" I ask excitedly. "You have to go back to New York, Jeff. This time, Frankie Valli wants to see you." "WTF?!?!" I exclaim. "Any idea for which production, where, etc?…" "Nope. Just have fun."
OCTOBER
It’s the final week of my contract at Shaw, and as contemplate my future, I begin to dream about some well-earned time off. But a few days later, an interesting bit of information comes our way. It seems that the producers have officially decided to run a sit-down production of Jersey Boys in Toronto, to begin immediately after the touring production leaves town. Holy Crap. Now, it all starts to make sense.
Two days later, I’m back in NYC at the same hotel, eating the same breakfast, and walking to the same audition studio. But, this time, the nerves are different. I know what’s at stake. This is for all the marbles. It’s for Toronto. It’s for right now. It will very likely screw up my three upcoming contracts. And it could be the opportunity of a lifetime, if it works out.
My stomach is in knots. The audition starts 25-minutes late. And to make matters worse, the casting director wants us to read a paragraph of dialogue we’ve never done before. Finally, I go in. The real Frankie Valli is front and centre, staring at me. This must be really weird for him. He says something meant to make me feel at ease, but it doesn’t work. I feel like an imposter. ‘I don’t really know you’, I think. ‘I just learned some crazy high songs, and memorized some speeches. You’re gonna know I’m faking it.’
Crap! Time’s up. My mind is flitting about as I’m singing his songs. To him! I screw up a lyric here and there. ‘Jesus, man, hang on. You can do this,’ I tell myself. Somehow, I make it to the scenes. They go better. Maybe it’s because I have someone else to work off of. Phew! ‘Thank God there’s no dance call!’ I think. I walk out stirred, but not shaken. As I quickly change into my street clothes, I start thinking about how good that first drink is going to taste. (It was a Stella, and it tasted fabulous!!!).
When I get off the airplane, I turn on my phone. There’s a text from Kish. It has three words. ‘Offer coming tomorrow.’ Holy crap!!! I drive home floating on a cloud of Jersey goodness.
The week that followed was one of highs and lows, as it occurred to me just how quickly my life was going to change. First, my family has to move closer to Toronto. Second, we have to rent our house in Niagara-on-the-Lake. The other 500 things can get done later. Rehearsals are set to begin November 3rd. That gives me 17 days to move, find a tenant, and accomplish all these other tasks. What a crazy business.
BUT, wait... the craziness wasn't over yet! The week before rehearsals begin, I have to fly back down to New York again. And from there, I'm off to Nashville, TN for three days of work with the real Bob Gaudio and renowned voice coach Katie Agresta. We work through about a dozen songs from the show, trying to find a way in to make Jeff Madden sound like Frankie Valli without killing Jeff Madden. It's a work-in-progress of course, and an amazing experience.
Can this crazy ride get any crazier? Something tells me, this is only the beginning!
I guess this is what comes of
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