Description: Eve Jones steps back into the Devon House, feeling like the hotel room has been transformed into an acting studio for her very first lesson with Glenn Sabine.
The Miss Teenager Pageant. PART 27.
Miraculously, as if magically transformed by Hollywood filmmakers, Room 32 at the Devon House was no longer a simple hotel room but Studio 8 on the backlot of RKO Radio Pictures. Eve’s first education as an actress under the expert tutelage of Mr. Glenn Sabine had officially begun.
Her first lesson: speaking like a pro.
“Project, my dear. Project,” he was saying. “The voice must flow from the larynx like lava from a flaming volcano!” With one hand, he touched his lips, and with the other, he gestured with his fingers to show lava exploding from there.
Literally, he had Eve pressed up against a wall. Was it her imagination or was something stirring in her heart with that voice that could call all the wild of Africa to band together for a meet and greet? Eve marveled. Mr. Sabine had such self-assurance. Such delicatesse! Such confidence in his own acting that Eve immediately became envious and wished upon all the stars that could shine that she could achieve such a dynamic and compelling presence one day.
Would what she had be enough for the Miss Teenager contest? No, she knew she had a long way to go to be ready, but this was an impressive start. Imagine what else she could learn if Glenn Sabine taught her 24/7!
Eve gave one more try to project. Her first attempt had resembled the caterwaul of her neighbor’s cat. Mr. Sabine’s assistant, Pike-something, had cringed and plugged his ears. Eve was determined to do better. Taking a few deep breaths like preparing for a high dive into a glass of water, she belted out a voice that sounded like she was shouting to an elderly person on the telephone. Her next attempt was more like the scream of a frightened girl in an Alfred Hitchcock picture. By her eighth attempt, her voice could have shattered glass, or at least, made the neighbors next door want to pack up their things without even closing their suitcases and vamoose like witnessing an alien space invasion.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t project, but there was more to the lesson, as Eve soon discovered. Speaking as an actor was an art, and Glenn Sabine was a Stradivarius.
Projecting wasn’t about shouting or screaming, he explained.
“Even your merest whisper must have resonance,” he said, turning his back on Eve and whispering words that only Eve could discern if she were right there next to him. “Listen…”
Wait, was that…? Well, was it? Yes, it was! It was a word! And then a sentence. A whisper but as clear as a school bell!
Suddenly Eve gasped in complete astonishment as she touched both of her cheeks with gloved fingers. “I can hear every syllable, Mr. Sabine!” she declared with overly excessive enthusiasm. “Oh, I’ve learned oodles about acting in just the past ten minutes!” she cried.
