Posted on November 6, 2007 at 2:44 pm

[Hail, fine people. This entry is old and has now been superseded by another entry. If you want more information about auditioning for “13”, then go hither and follow the instructions therein.]

You’ve heard about my new show, 13. You’ve heard rumbles that there’s going to be a Broadway production. You’ve listened to the songs on my website. You’ve read the incredible reviews from the LA production. You’re between 11 and 17 years old, or you’re the parent of an extraordinarily talented 11-through-17-year-old. You think this show is everything you’ve ever dreamed of and you want to arrange an audition.


I would love to tell you more details about our production schedule, our creative team, our audition process, all of it. But I can’t tell you anything. Why? Because our producer employs seven very large men with truncheons for the sole purpose of keeping me from shooting off my mouth before he’s ready to announce anything. And he’s apparently not yet ready to announce anything.


If you have a legitimate question about casting (particularly if you were one of the kids we called back earlier this year from the summer camp auditions), our casting director has thrown out a lifeline.

Mark Simon – beloved by all, feared by many – is in charge of casting 13, and he has agreed to field whatever phone calls come his way about auditions for the show. He won’t answer emails, but he will answer phone calls (or at least return them). So, this is his office phone number:

Redacted. Sorry. Too late.

It’s very generous of Mark to take this on, so be nice to him.

I’ll add a small personal caveat, and I hope I don’t sound too harsh about this: whenever I tell anyone about this show, the first thing they ask about is the parents. “Oh my God,” they say, “you must have some good stories about stage parents!” Actually, I say, we don’t. And the reason we don’t is that the minute a parent gets out of line, we take their child out of consideration. Since we’re going to be stuck with the parent if we cast the child, we don’t want to take the chance of being imprisoned with unpleasant or inappropriate people for the length of a contract (or even for the length of a rehearsal process). So if you suspect that you’re even a little bit of Mama Rose, take your Paxil before you call, and don’t forget that, in this particular instance, you actually are reflecting on your teenager. Okay?

That’s the news, y’all. I’ll be back with another blog soon!

All best,
Jason Robert Brown