It’s Saturday and the St. Laurent shopping centre is like an amusement park. Excitement and anticipation create a thick layer that hugs the contestants who are waiting in line to audition for the fourth season of Canadian Idol.
The line is about 75 people long. One by one, Idol hopefuls enter into the sectioned off registration area and sign a release form acknowledging that they meet the age requirement (16 to 28). They must also declare they are not a relative of an associated employee and irrevocably assign the entire copyright and all other rights of their audition to the producer.
Today, it’s all a game of coloured paper and the winning hue is light blue. That means you’ve made it through today, through two rounds of judging, and you are expected to show up at the War Museum the next morning at 8 a.m. to audition for the celebrity judges.
This portion will be televised. But today there are no video cameras.
Walking around the surrounding area, I see many people waiting for their sons, daughters or friends to be taken off to the first audition room. Cameras are flashing, people are practicing their songs and every other person has headphones on, listening to the songs they plan on singing and hoping they won’t forget the words.
I come across Britt Newell and Lisa Tattersall about 20 minutes after I arrive. It’s almost noon and they have just returned from the War Museum where Newell’s 16-year-old daughter, Alyssa, was among the 45 early arrivals who were invited to film the opening segment for the Ottawa auditions with Ben Mulroney. Newell happily shows me the many pictures she has taken from the taping on her digital camera.
We watch all the commotion as they tell me what they know about the process of the competition so far.
Tattersall says the contestants are first taken in groups of five to audition in front of the preliminary judges. They take turns stepping forward and singing their two chosen songs. If the judges like what they see, the contestants are given a yellow paper that indicates they will move on to the next level where they will sing, alone, in front of the executive producers.
We are interrupted as Alyssa is ushered, along with four others, to the first audition room and I quickly follow behind. The door is guarded by two security guards who only allow staff and contestants through. I will have to wait here.
Newell tells me she hasn’t heard her daughter sing since she was four and is very nervous for her. We wait, at first patiently, but after two hours everyone is growing anxious. We hear a rumour that the delay is due to the executive producer’s lunch break. Eyes roll.
Finally, Alyssa is spotted through the door, sitting in the main waiting room with a yellow paper in her hand. She is smiling and exited and very nervous we assume.
In the time I spend waiting outside I only see a handful of people come out with the light blue paper. Others exit smiling at the experience of it all and some shed tears at the disappointment of not making it through.
“It’s okay,” I overhear one girl say to her friends as she leaves the audition room. “Now I know I’m going to be a doctor.” Would she really pick fame over a career of saving lives? Interesting.
Finally, Alyssa comes out of the audition room, but the light blue paper doesn’t. She says that the executive producers told her she wasn’t “animated” enough during her performance of Enter Sandman by Metallica. They leave, tired and disappointed, to go back to their home in Stittsville.
Erinne-Colleen Laurin comes out right after Alyssa and she has what everyone else here wants: the light blue form. She is lead by one of the volunteers back to the registration desk where the waiting contestants enviously eye the paper.
I chat to her friend and boyfriend while she gets the details about tomorrow’s auditions, in front of the celebrity judges. She excitedly comes over to us and spills about the experience.
“It wasn’t harsh, but they don’t baby you,” Laurin tells me. “They really look for originality, talent and stage presence.”
She says at first the executive producers told her no and she had to convince them that she should go through to the next round.
“Everyone in the room was tired, stressed and nervous,” says Laurin talking about the waiting area. “But you really have to step it up and put your all into the audition. You really have to get into your song.”
As I leave, the line is still the same length as when I arrived almost four hours earlier. I wonder what it would be like to be standing in their place.
Maybe next year I’ll tryout.