What's going on here?
From left to right, counterclockwise: the woman in summer plaid - tech-y lady with a combative oven. The man seated on the floor - sweet guy, thinks he's God (inside joke; you had to be there)*. The woman in the pink hoodie - cosmopole with a mildly British accent. The young woman in the white tee - sporty girl headed west (all the best to you in college). The one in black? Hi.
A while back, I sent a demo out to an agency, whose representative's response was that I needed more range. (Really? What do you think?)
Eh, there might be something to that. When doing some recording on my own, I found that I had one basic delivery over multiple takes, particularly when I haven't loosened up enough. The recordings aren't in a monotone, but the rhythm and prosody don't vary much between attempts. I might have been able to hear the differences, and so could those I asked for critiques, but the changes were too faint in some cases to make for distinct deliveries.
So I found an improv class close by. I thought the class would be geared toward comedy, but it turned out to be unexpectedly serious, more psychological than anything. (Judith.*) Rather than developing cartoon-y, outlandish characters (which I had rather hoped for), it ended up being more about speaking extemporaneously in one's own voice. Which involved loosening up. (You try keeping a straight face when talking about hemorrhoids onstage.)
The group was assigned different topics to interpret in spoken word and movement, as is the case in the photo. During the last class, one topic also involved song. The song of the hot king dwarf fit the topic given, and Richard Armitage's voice is as yum as the rest of him.
I'm not the kind of person from whom anyone would expect a willingness to talk extemporaneously, but it's a lot easier to come up with an answer off the cuff when the weird and ridiculous is expected and encouraged. And since life is weird and humans are ridiculous, this shouldn't be brain surgery offstage, right?
Right. Why should an embarrassing moment stop you from doing what you need to?
The picture though. That is brain surgery.
*Edited at request of J. Kalaora