L. Nicol Cabe

After many years of waiting, I finally had the opportunity to see one of the 4 days of 14/48. Afterward, my theatre partner and I had an interesting discussion about time-based art, and what the benefits vs downsides are. He’s not in favor of it, generally, because it doesn’t allow space for the creative process. As a visual artist, he has created pieces with a limited amount of time, but he doesn’t feel like they’re good work. His argument, essentially, was that artists can create a sketch in a limited amount of time, but not a coherent, complete, and appealing work of art.

Overall, I agree with the assessment, but as an artist, I have a bad habit of procrastination and wallowing. Time-based theatre is a great experience for me, personally, because it forces me to make choices, and any edits in the process are made without judgment. In time-based art, the artist doesn’t have time for personal judgment of work. And frankly, that can be liberating.

Here’s a couple of classics to illustrate our points: Shakespeare, and many other playwrights in history, had deadlines. Tough deadlines. Shakespeare was probably adding chunks to his plays in the week or two of rehearsal the actors got before the show went on stage. If he wanted to edit the plays, it happened after the actors started working the scene, or even after the show went up.

On the other hand, modern playwrights write without as much of a deadline. While self-imposed deadlines might help their writing, selling the play doesn’t normally happen until after the entire play is finished. Sometimes the play can spend months, even years, in work-shopping. This means the play has the advantage of the playwright’s focus, actors’ voices, and lots of consideration before it hits the stage. The final product, in an ideal world, is honed down to what is necessary to convey the story to the audience. Musicals in particular go through this process: they move from work-shopping to first productions at regional theatres to final productions on Broadway or Off-Broadway. The show isn’t considered complete until it hits a theatre in NYC.

On the other OTHER hand, some of the most classic works of art are not officially, according to the painter, complete. The Mona Lisa is a great example. “According to Da Vinci’s contemporary, Giorgio Vasari, ‘…after he had lingered over it four years, left it unfinished….’[...] It is known that such behavior is common in most paintings of Leonardo who, later in his life, regretted ‘never having completed a single work’.”

So there can be benefits for some artists in having a time limit. It forces you to start your work, and it forces you to make decisions, even if in hindsight the piece needs more work.

Here’s a list of some of my favorite pieces of time-based art.
14/48: 14 plays written, rehearsed, and performed in 48 hours.

24 Hour Plays: similar to 14/48, this is a set 6 or 7 plays written overnight, rehearsed during the day, and performed the following evening. Every actor, writer, and director brings one prop or costume piece on the first evening, and the writers then use those props/costumes in their pieces.

365 Days, 365 Plays a collection of short plays written by Suzan-Lori Parks in 2005. It was then performed all over the country in a festival in 2006; plays were divided up into one week per theatre company per city that applied (I directed week 18 for Eclectic Theater Company in Seattle). One short play was performed per day, and at the end of the quarter, each group got together and performed their whole week for a large audience.

National Playwrighting Month (NaPlWriMo): inspired by National Novel-Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), this annual event inspires playwrights, from amateur to professional, to force those creative ideas onto paper during one month. Participation is totally voluntary, and many participants (myself included) don’t make the deadline. But you have a support group to check in with, which can be really helpful, as well as articles and updates from the event coordinators that discuss the writing process.

Neo-Futurist’s “Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind”: “Each week, these plays shift as ensemble members add new plays to the existing body of work. Each night of performance, we create an unreproducable living newspaper collage of the comic and tragic, the political and personal, and the visceral and experimental.” Writer/performers create 2-minute pieces, which are rehearsed during the week and performed for TMLMTBGB during the weekend. The audience gets a “menu” on their program, and between plays shouts out the number of the show they want to see next. The group attempts to perform all 30 plays in 60 minutes (the night I went, we made it to 28!). And then the next week, it’s all done again.

I assign a lot of labels to myself. Among those labels are: atheist, feminist, computer nerd, and theatre artist/geek.

New Atheism and Theatre Arts are both precious to me. The New Atheist and Skeptical movements have an emphasis on objective reality, science-based reasoning, and in that way encourage, at least for me and the blogs I generally read, constant questioning of assumptions. Of course, as a feminist, it’s painful to me that atheism and skepticism have big, big, big problems when it comes to sexism. But there’s a dialogue happening, and there are some brilliant and outspoken female skeptics and atheists contributing.

It is also a problem to be a woman on the internet. A big problem. But again, there’s some excellent women out there yelling about it and showing why it’s bad.

I’m on Strawberry Theatre Workshop’s mailing list, and I was recently sent an email, linking to a Pels Keynote Address by Theresa Rebeck, since she is the writer of their upcoming play, The Bells. Rebeck’s speech, in a sad coincidence, discussed the amazing sexism in the theatre world.

This is an important point to realize: Before I came to New York and started working in the theater, I was never told that being a girl was going to be a problem for me in any way that I took seriously. It’s not like I was a stranger to conservatism. I know a lot about the Republican party and the Catholic church because I was raised, basically, in both. Both my parents were staunch Ohio Republican Catholics until some point where my mother got a clue and switched parties and now she’s a democrat and my father is still a republican so since then they’ve done nothing but fight incessantly about politics. My father, who is as I said both republican and catholic, thinks I’m insane BUT there was a moment in my childhood, when some of his buddies got into ribbing him about having so many daughters. He had four daughters and two sons, and someone apparently even expressed pity one day, the story goes, one of his golfing buddies said something like, “Poor George, what is he going to do with all those girls?” And it pissed him off, and he came home and said to my democratic mother, “Those girls can do anything the boys can do.” And that is what the expectation was, in my house. Then I went to an all girls Catholic high school where the nuns were all quietly radical liberation theologists who were secretly agitating for women’s ordination. Then I went to Notre Dame, which was more traditionally conservative, but I couldn’t take it tooo seriously because they had things like panty raids there. I thought it was just too dumb to be believed. And then I went to Brandeis, where I read a lot of feminist literary theory and considered questions like “Is the Gaze Male?” This was in the EIGHTIES, that’s more than 25 years ago, for people who are counting. And at the time there were fantastic plays being produced all over the country by Wendy Wasserstein and Tina Howe and Marsha Norman and Emily Mann, and I thought it was a cool thing, to be a woman playwright. I thought, I’m not in the Catholic Church anymore, and the world is saying we haven’t heard from the women, and now we’re ready!

And then I began my career as a professional playwright, where I was told that since I’m a woman, if I write about women, that means I have a feminist agenda and that’s BAD. I also got told that when I write about men, since I’m a woman, that I clearly have a feminist agenda, and that’s bad too. I couldn’t write about anything without hearing that I had a feminist agenda. It turned out that being a woman playwright was just in and of itself suspect; if you are a woman playwright by definition you have a feminist agenda, which was so bad, it annihilated the work itself. Apparently the other word for woman playwright might as well be ‘witch.’
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So those are some of the ways I know there actually is a gender problem in the American theater. This is another way: Because so many people—not just Arthur Kopit—have told me, over the years, that in order to have a career that is commensurate with my talent, I should pretend to be a man. This is another way I know there is a problem: Because the extraordinary Julia Jordan ran the numbers for us.

Two years ago in what I think was an act of inspired intelligence and courage, Julia Jordan conducted a series of town halls at New Dramatists, which put the question of gender parity on the table for the American theater to discuss. She invited women playwrights to come and present their situation and they showed up in droves. Then she invited artistic directors and literary managers to come and confront the situation with us. And this is the situation: Plays written by women are not being produced. In 2007, the one year I opened a play on Broadway, I was the only woman playwright who did so. That year, nationwide, 12 per cent of the new plays produced all over the country were by women. That means 88 percent of the new plays produced were written by men. (Back in 1918 before women had the right to vote, the percentage of new plays in New York, written by women, was higher. It was higher before we had the vote.)
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I would also like to note that in January a lot of reports came out about the recent study of the American Council on Education, which informed us that last year women earned more than half the degrees granted in every category—associate, bachelor, master, doctor or professional. The actual numbers nationwide stand at 57 percent women, and 43 percent men, and they have stood somewhere in that vicinity since the year 2000. USA Today asks, is this “cause for celebration, or concern?”
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So women playwrights live in a world where we are told it is a bad thing if women are 57 percent of the undergraduate population, because that’s too big an imbalance, but it’s an okay thing if women are only getting 17 percent or 6 percent or 9 percent of the best jobs in show business (and elsewhere, in America) and if we tried to rectify that it would be unfair because it would involve “quotas.”

Painful. And inexcusable.

Now, for personal anecdotal evidence, I don’t have much. I can think of several female theatre artists in my town, who are active, sought-after, and respected. I can also think of a handful of female atheist bloggers who I read frequently who are active, sought-after, and respected, and I know there are several out there that I can’t think of because I’m not familiar with their work. However, just because I personally cannot think of times when I specifically have been discriminated against because of my gender (or at least times when that might have been the only factor — there’s a lot of reasons I might not get picked for a lot of things), does not mean it doesn’t happen. I’m not going to write a diatribe about how I get to be part of the boys’ club, therefore the state of theatre in the Western World is fine (unlike Penn Jillette’s friend Mallorie in reference to the sexism problem in atheism). I can say that I DO get frequently cat-called on the street, and I have experienced a severe decrease in the likelihood of having a decent conversation with the opposite gender at a party when alcohol is involved, or when the party is a costume party (regardless of the costume I’m wearing).

The one experience I’ve had with sexism in theatre actually involves another woman. We were talking about potential members for the theatre company we both worked for, and she mentioned that, even though she loved working with other women and some of the most talented people she knew in the field were women, she preferred having a few men involved because otherwise all the group would ever do was sit around and talk about their feelings. This is a woman who is also very talented, who have given me several opportunities that have been wonderful, and whom I otherwise have a great deal of respect for. There’s nothing wrong with having feelings, but that statement is insulting to me both on a personal level, as a woman, and on a professional level, as an artist, because it implies that I am unable to get past my personal bullshit and focus on the task at hand. Which, considering she has asked me repeatedly to work with her, is obviously untrue when it comes down to dealing with each other individually, as artists. Otherwise, why would she want to work with me instead of a man?

The problem of sexism is an overall cultural problem, and while I experience it infrequently, I still see it’s detriments. For the theatre world, losing any one voice is a detriment because our art is all about narrative and it’s personal effects. One of the greatest talents in 20th century playwrighting is Caryl Churchill, whose unique perspective on important moments, rather than linear time, created a new theatrical experience which arguably changed how plays were written. Her work is at least as influential as that of David Mamet or Sam Shepard. But how often are Churchill’s plays revived, versus Mamet’s or Shepard’s?

Another history-maker in the theatre is Joan Littlewood, whose Theatre Workshop combined Communism (both in the sense of socialism and community living) and artistry, and ended up producing some of the most important British plays of the 20th century, including A Taste of Honey by Shelagh Delaney, and Oh, What a Lovely War!, an ensemble piece. The only reason I know anything about Joan Littlewood and the Theatre Workshop is because I went to the University of Kingston-Upon-Hull, UK, for the second semester of my sophomore year of college and took a class on modern British drama. Despite her huge influence on theatre in the 1970′s and 1980′s, she was not discussed in any of my other theatre history classes throughout the rest of my college career.

Of course, theatre has a long history of sexism. Until extremely recently, women were only on stage for a combination of shock value and sex appeal. In ancient Rome, female slaves were allowed to play women, but female Roman citizens could not; women were not on the English stage until after the Restoration; women could play in the Commedia dell’arte, but were frowned upon as whores. Even now, I have a hard time thinking of roles for women in theatre that are not stereotypical, despite the fact that I know female stage hands, stage managers, producers, directors, and playwrights.

I think the modern problem of sexism, in theatre and in atheism, is a reflection of our larger culture’s problem. The wage gap still exists; the Equal Rights Amendment has not yet been ratified; studies about gender differences are fraught with mistakes that are not reported well in mainstream media. It seems like the only way to ensure any sort of equality is to base the hiring of professors, scientists, playwrights, and staff on resume only, without even a name to tip the hiring committee off. But meeting people is important, because that’s the best way to get a sense of their personality. But! Studies with infants have shown just how gender biased we are as a culture. So meeting a person face-to-face means that we’re going to react to them based on their gender. All of us.

I live in hope that one day this can all be overcome, but it means that we all have to speak out about gender stereotypes, always, and include as many hard facts as possible. I don’t like wondering if I didn’t get cast or hired just because of my age, race, or gender, and I don’t think anyone likes wondering that. I don’t like thinking I didn’t get hired because I’m not talented enough either, but that at least judges me as an individual, and I prefer that to thinking I was dismissed because I happen to have two X chromosomes.

Last year, I examined, in an armchair statistics way, what Seattle theatre was like based on SeattlePerforms.com and how many of the theatres’ websites still existed.

This year, I don’t have that much to say. Aside from the Intiman crumbling, which I’ve been blogging about pretty extensively, there hasn’t been much development. Not that I’ve seen, anyway. So I’m going to write a more personal post than I normally do about where I am in the theatre, from the past year, and what’s coming up.

Last year, I started off working on a production of Ear to the Ground’s Not All Clowns are Bozos III: Clowning Me Softly. I was the production manager, and it was a tough but worthwhile endeavor. Later in the year, I became more involved with Ear to the Ground in general, and am currently serving as interim Board Secretary, as well as assistant director for the upcoming Not All Clowns are Bozos IV: So You Think You Can Clown.

I feel like working with clowns has changed my perspective on theatre a lot, in many subtle ways. I’ve become a lot more passionate about locally created and sourced theatre in the past year to year-and-a-half, but I had been feeling rather burnt out in “dealing with” Seattle theatre. I didn’t know as strongly what I wanted to do with myself or where to start, but I did know, starting with my movement class in the summer of 2010, that I loved physical and ensemble theatre. When I went to Chicago later that year, I finally got to see a show from the Neo-Futurists, and I feel very strongly that I want to learn their style of theatre creation, and bring it to Seattle. I haven’t had a chance at the second part yet, but I hope to soon. Anyway, working with the clowns has helped rejuvenate by drive and self-respect as an artist, which in turn makes me feel more stable, more like I can ask for and achieve what I want. They are very appreciative of my help, and they are equally appreciative when I tell them “no” to certain jobs (especially if I do so before I’m asked). They are an amazing group, too – very friendly, open, always teasing each other and making jokes to the point that, yes, it can be hard to get things done, but meetings with them are never painful or slow. Also, working with this group will eventually help me develop ensemble-work skills. I’m looking forward to eventually transitioning into more of an artistic associate role with them.

I put up two productions of “best-of-craigslist: live!” in one year, which is kind of an amazing feat. The first one was a full-length (over an hour) solo version taken down to the Portland Mini-Fringe Festival in February, and the second was a late-night, less than 10-minute version for Annex’s Spin the Bottle in early December. The second was much more successful, which gives me a clearer idea of how and where I should pursue this in the future.

I directed a short piece for Freehold Studio’s Showcase called “Gated,” written by a good friend, Scott Maddock. It was great to work with him in a more intimate way – he’s a kind-hearted, talented writer who believes strongly in collaboration and the director’s vision, and I tried to offer him the same respect. I was proud of the final production of “Gated” in a way that, because of burn-out, I haven’t been proud of my work in a long time.

I didn’t get to dramaturg with Taproot Theatre in 2011. However, I am, so far, going to get to dramaturg a show with them in the late spring in 2012. I’m excited, because I thoroughly enjoy working with them as a group, and dramaturgy is one of my favorite aspects of theatre.

Although I attended theatre a bit, and thought about theatre a lot, over the summer last year, I didn’t do much in the way of theatre work. In my personal life, I moved from the north end of the city to the south end of the city, had my house broken into about two months later, took on more responsibility at work, and started going to The Samarya Center for yoga as part of a much more vigorous workout regimen because I’ve decided I’m tired of being weak, chubby, and sick most of the time. And to change that in a preventative way, I need to watch what I eat and exercise more. The “watching what I eat” part isn’t easy for me and I’ve focused on that less (especially with the holiday insanity), but I have been going to yoga 2-3 times a week, blues dancing about 2-3 times a month, and riding my bike more, which are all good things and I’ve felt better for doing them. I am also, although it pains me in an existential way, interested in training to be a yoga teacher. But I’m also interested in training in the Facial Action Coding System. It takes time for both of these things, but I am going to take steps toward both of these goals this year.

Also on the personal front, my partner and I are looking at going to France for his 30th birthday, which is in 2013. So we’re looking at when the trip will take place and how long we’ll be there, and I’m going to start looking into residencies with theatres. Oui, je suis etudiant le langue. Mais, mon mots, c’est terrible.

Anyway, so all of that also happened last year, and will continue into this next year.

I’m also taking Marya Sea Kaminksy’s Solo Performance class at Freehold starting in mid-January, which is going to push a serious number of my boundaries in a short period of time. I’m terrified and excited about the challenge. I hope to figure out a time to travel to Chicago to visit the Neo-Futurists again this year, and see what I can do with them volunteer-wise. I look forward to working with the clowns for another year. I’m looking forward to a lot of things, and I hope 2012 is a good year for me, both artistically and personally.

Not that this is a bad thing – I think it’s a good way of helping them restore donors’ and patrons’ faith – but it looks like the Intiman is going full-on post-modern and stealing an idea from Kickstarter. Instead of taking donations up front,

Our new plan protects donors: we will not spend money we don’t have. We are seeking pledges, but will not call on those pledges unless we meet our financial goal for the 2012 festival. This is a risk-free investment. If we make our one million dollar goal, Intiman will return, our 2011 subscribers will receive complimentary tickets to this 2012 summer festival, and other tickets will be sold at a very affordable price. If we don’t raise the operating funds needed, we’ll celebrate 40 years of quality theatre and close the doors for good.

This is an interesting proposal because, yes, it ensures they have money or donors/investors lose nothing (unlike when the 2011 season ended suddenly); but also because very, very few Seattleites, including myself and apparently their board, have faith in the theatre right now. I mean, they came out and publicly said in their last announcement that they’d only raised $200,000 out of $1 million necessary just for the theatre festival. And the theatre festival itself is as close to risk-free as produced and staged theatre can get: a handful of short shows creating a “festival” rather than actually producing a full season.

I think the financial step is good, because thus far Intiman hasn’t shown me, personally, a lot of reason to invest in them. And I’m still not planning to. In a time where the public demands big, bold steps in politics, the Intiman is back to crawling. And they’re trying to kowtow to the public’s current mindset by saying, “Hey, we’re not making a bold move by demanding investment fully in local actors or expanding into a Broadway thoroughfare, but we’ll mix and match what we think might work and throw a tidbit up onstage for you in about 7 months, oh and by the way you can throw a small amount of money at that right now and it’s risk-free because we hear the kids these days like this Kickstarter thing.”

We’ve paused to listen and plan responsibly for Intiman’s future. We’ve listened, and we heard. We heard that we needed to dial it back, do it smarter. We heard be local. Be responsible. Be honest and transparent. Honor your subscribers who were let down by cancellation of the 2011 season. Continue to be excellent artistically. Take artistic risks, but mind the business risks.
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We know you care as deeply about this theatre and our arts community as we do. That’s why we’re still fighting. We want to see you come back to Intiman. We want to continue to engage and entertain you with vibrant theatre for another 40 years.

Although it sounds dramatic, it’s true: we only have until January 31 to raise these funds. We are actively fundraising towards our one million dollar goal, and must have pledges in by end of January in order to start entering contracts for our season. So, as they say, it’s now or never!

Bold language framing a move that is, well, beige at best. But ok, we’ll see who bites. As you can all tell, I’m interested in the continuing developments.

Oh and by the way, I’ve asked my boyfriend to donate to Theatre Puget Sound this holiday season. He and I have decided that, rather than spend tons of money on gifts that people will barely enjoy, we’ll donate in the name of charity for everyone on our Christmas/Hannukah lists. And that was what I asked for, because I do love and support and take part in local theatre, and I want it to thrive, and Theatre Puget Sound is part of how that happens. Also, there’s lots of great theatres in this town that genuinely need your help to continue their already bold seasons and brilliant productions, and you can find them through Seattle Performs.com.

If you really want to support local artists, go see a small, locally-written, -produced, and -acted show; donate to small theatres; buy subscriptions; or even volunteer. The Intiman isn’t, thus far, offering anything new or vital, which is why I personally am not supporting them. They have mainly been important to the Seattle theatre landscape because they had a staff, and paid their cast and crew a living wage, and it’s important to make that a priority with all good theatres, not just the Intiman. It is important that, in the event that the Intiman does crash and burn early next year, we have theatres that can replace them in the landscape, rather than deepening the divide between massive theatres (like the new Historic Theatre District group) and the small theatres that want so badly to do right by you, the audience, because they can still see you.

But in the meantime, check in later for more highly opinionated updates about Intiman.

I’ve read a couple of articles lately about theatres banding together in various ways. Despite what you may think of the title, I’m not inherently against it. Artsblog’s “E Pluribus Unum” post makes the point that theatres in New York City have banded together, or are looking to band together, to form groups which share rent on space, admin staffs, and even grant money. It’s brilliant, actually, and as the article points out, a great way to survive tough economic times, when money and affordable space are both scarce.

Just over a month ago, Crain’s New York Business (shout-out: their coverage of the business side of the arts—how does it work?—is the best in this crowded city; who’s got the best arts/business journalism in your community?) reported on the Lower Manhattan Arts League (LoMAL): a group of eleven companies across different arts disciplines. All downtown. Shared marketing. Lowered costs through joint purchases of goods and services. And LoMAL takes the prize, achieving the hardest feat in partnering: they applied for grants together, and figured out how they would divide the $$$. Not in theory, for real. They were awarded and shared money they would never have received separately.

A roughly similar arrangement has been occurring more and more in Seattle — A Contemporary Theatre, as well as several smaller theatres including Annex and the brand new West of Lenin space, rent out their space between their own mainstage shows. This means that the space is in constant use, and the primary lease-holding company has income from a variety of sources. In fact, Annex and ACT are both well-known for having something going on all the time.

This isn’t the same as a conglomeration of theatres. Seattle Theatres usually don’t share space on a permanent basis, although Seattle Shakespeare, Theatre Puget Sound (a theatre umbrella organization), Book-It, and the Wooden O all share a building and rent on one main stage.

The big theatre news in Seattle is a downtown corridor that will be called “the historic theatre district.” The theatres which will be in this alliance are A Contemporary Theatre, 5th Avenue Theatre, the Paramount, and Town Hall, and the point of them banding together is not simply to create flashy literature for tourists.

Eventually, the district could apply for grants, work together on energy upgrades, or get city zoning that would place value on the theaters’ historical significance. For example, the city could develop a program to allow theater owners to sell historical preservation “credits” to developers who want to build something in another part of town. Seattle has a similar program to encourage affordable housing, and the county uses a similar program to preserve farmland.

It is an interesting idea, and kind of similar to Artsblog’s article. My qualm is that this recognizes “the 1%” of theatres, which are already successful revenue-generating operations. It’s great that Seattle will have support for it’s arts on a government level, which will essentially leave the theatres in charge of themselves and unique, but will also create an overarching cultural support system. However, it neglects all of the other theatres in this city that add immensely to the city’s culture.

For example, this alliance represents a shift from the town’s original theatrical area to the downtown corridor. Several of Seattle’s oldest theatres are currently in the Seattle Center — Seattle Rep, Seattle Shakes/Wooden O, the Intiman (or at least it’s space), Seattle Children’s Theatre, Book-It, Seattle Opera and Pacific Northwest Ballet in McCaw Hall, Center Stage Theatre and Theatre Puget Sound which manages it … it is an interesting shift from the biggest traditional gathering space in the city, to a downtown which is, frankly, underwhelming and falling apart (aside from the theatres in this alliance). It’s also a shift to the current biggest theatres in the town, away from an area that, with the Intiman’s potential demise, seems less appealing.

Most importantly to me, the accord neglects small theatres. Nothing is mentioned about including Freehold Studios, Macha Monkey, and Open Circle Theatre, which all share a space on 2nd Ave in Belltown. They’re close enough to downtown to be one of the stops on the roster. What about Comedy Underground in Pike Place Market? It’s one of the handful of hugely popular improv theatres in the city, and it’s in a classic downtown location. What about including studio spaces in Pioneer Square, despite the fact that several of the buildings which used to house theatre companies and artist lofts (like Satori Group) are being torn down to build the replacement Viaduct. Where’s the support for the incredible old buildings and cheap rent in that area? And finally, what about a Capital Hill Theatre alliance? There’s simply tons of theatres and artists that use those theatres on the Hill, although with Freehold now in Belltown, Balagan working closely with ACT, and ArtAttack missing in action, there’s not as much there now. But there’s Washington Ensemble Theatre, Annex, the Odd Duck Studio, Velocity Dance Center, and Theater Schmeater, to name a few off the top of my head. Theatre in the northern part of Seattle seems to be reviving as well, with West of Lenin coming back on the grid, and the Ballard Underground hosting Ghost Light Theatricals as well as itinerant companies that rent. What about an alliance there?

It’s something for these groups to consider, I think. There’s benefits to an alliance, as the large downtown theatres will show us, and there’s no reason that the 99% of theatres in the city shouldn’t get the attention and grant monies they deserve.

I’ve spent much of my holiday reading about the Occupy movement, which I have been woefully uneducated about – partly because of being busy, partly because of underreporting from trusted sources. I also tend to read a lot about theatre while I’m on vacations, just generally, so when B. Michael Peterson posted “On artists making a living and artistic directors that could make a difference but don’t”, I was at full attention.

The basic premise is obvious from the title – theatre artists should make a living but don’t, and it seems to be because of large theatre’s swollen administrative staffs. Now, I am one of the accused/mourned theatre artists who has gone into administrative work at a large theatre company to pay my bills. I’m lucky in a lot of respects – the theatre I work for has a balanced budget, I get paid enough to survive and pay down my credit card at the same time, and I work about 3/4 time in the office, which gives me time to work on other projects in the evening and on weekends, AND have a small amount of downtime at home between events. I’m paid hourly instead of salaried, so any hours I work beyond part-time are paid for (not at time-and-a-half, but still, it’s paid, so I get slightly less pressure to work obscene hours without more than my contracted salary). It could be a lot worse.

It could also be a lot better. How do we make it better? Where does the money come from to make it better? What model works better?

The comments got pretty illuminating.

As an Artistic Director myself, I’d venture to suggest that the solution lies somewhere in the middle. Theatres NEED an administrative staff to function (although I am taking the 3:1 quote with a grain of salt). But why can’t those positions be filled BY actors? We’re growing our company by attempting to offer full-time positions to our actors. We find that they’re more invested in the product. For example, yes, cold calling for donations is annoying. But, if your show is going to benefit directly from the work you’re doing, wouldn’t you be more motivated?
“Steve”

Here in the Berkshires of Massachusetts, one of our “big four” companies, Shakespeare & Company, indeed does operate on the basis of actor-administrators. It’s an idea that works pretty well, though when an actor is also the person who prepares the ads, or does other tasks, they often have to be set aside when in rehearsal and performance.

Yet their model does seem to work pretty well.

And I once worked (for four years!) with a theatre company where artists and administrators divided the proceeds that were left after the bills were paid. $50-120 week didn’t go very far. Yet I never was happier.
“Larry Murray” http://berkshireonstage.com/

Yay Berkshire! This is a model that’s occurred to me independently of this article because of the influence on West Coast culture of the co-op farm movement. Co-ops are kind of awesome entities, although I admit that I don’t know too much about them as a business structure, and what sort of laws surround them. But the idea of the workers owning a private business, like shareholders — fabulous.

Here’s a few more:

- The forces that Occupy Wall Street is rallying against may be the very forces that are making theatre people feel so sad and powerless. These forces may well have built some kind of stubborn and at best partially visible glass ceiling above the reform you are quite rightly advocating for.
- I really miss Berlin’s repertory theatre companies. That feeling of walking through the doors and getting an overpowering feeling of entering a distinct theatrical world. That sense that it’s a truly unique COMPANY with such rich experiences to offer for such affordable prices, and there’s a different one every night.
- An old friend and colleague ran a large repertory theatre for a while – his work there was the weakest I’d seen him do, in large measure because he was forced to work with actors he’d inherited who had long-term contracts. When he quit and went freelance and was given a broader choice of performers, his work was as good as it had been before.
- Most of the artists in my US non-profit ensemble company that closed have gone on to enjoy amazing success as freelancers, both financial and artistic
- I would love to see new companies come along with new sustainable financial structures that support strong artistic work
- there must be some models out there of companies who are doing or are trying to do what Diane is envisaging. If not then we’ve REALLY got a problem.
“Kit Baker” http://kitbaker.blogspot.com/

“We want to tell ourselves that it is not possible to do more for artists but this is simply not true.” This is not an economic statement. It is emotional. Perhaps “cultural economics” involves a different kind of math than the kind we use at my theater. But the fact is that I have worked with and talked with some of the most esteemed arts administrators and arts consultants in America. And the non-profit theater in America isn’t wasteful or bloated. There isn’t largesse being spent idly on administrative positions. If there were, then you could make an ECONOMIC argument about moving the money that is wasted to different spots. But like so many who are critical of the nonprofits (which you apparently study in some kind of bizarre vacuum – who would study American non-profits in the Netherlands? Why not complain about Dutch theater?) you fail to grasp that the American theater by and large is doing enormously MORE with less! For example, at random I just picked the Vineyard. Their website says they have 16 staffers. They are doing 3 shows (and a Lab) this year. Those 3 shows, let’s guess, have an average of 4 actors each. They have 4 designers (forget their assistants) each, a director, plus a musical that has three specialty staff at least (forget musicians)…. by my back of the envelope, they have 30 artists working there this year. Probably after the lab etc. it’s many more. So let’s go back – let’s say we want them to put 4 of those artists on full time salary. Okay – with what money? You have basically accused them of favoring administrative staff over artists. But what you are inherently saying is the theater should subsidize the artist when they aren’t working. Because that’s the only explanation. And who do they fire to get the funds? Not one of their two development staffers. Not their ONLY educational staffer, that program is crucial to long term growth and probably a revenue stream. Their literary associate? That seems pretty keenly tied to their ability to make work… Your argument is so ignorant and simplistic, I am shocked that people like Ron have even given you a hearing. You can’t say, theaters should do more, without suggesting either new revenue or things to cut. It isn’t an argument because it doesn’t explain why it is “simply not true.” If it is so simple, why does no one use that model? Because it’s inefficient, and wasteful, and we have to be lean to survive. Saying, “You should employ artists” or “you should pay artists more” is the easy part. Anyone can say that. We should cure cancer and explore the galaxy, too. Amateurism is boring, especially from academics. If you want to totally redo the economics of producing non=profit theater, then explain that plan. We’re all ears.
“Carl Forsman”

This statement is very true, actually. As mentioned before, I pay for things with my check from working as an administrator in a large theatre in Seattle. As an administrator, I get a health savings plan (not health insurance, but which is better is a separate debate), paid time off, paid sick leave, and paid bereavement. We get a nice lunch once a year for the entire staff donated from one of our largest donors, who is a very kind and humble human being. I also get comp tickets to the shows. I don’t get much more than that, like lunch on the company dollar. We have old computers that need to be updated. We have to be careful about what we buy for the office as far as supplies, and we have to meticulously track most expenses. There is a company credit card for these things, but to get it to buy more pens, I practically have to find the Golden Fleece to get the gods’ favor. We have the occasional company party, and while they’re becoming slightly more common because of some new marketing staff, they’re rare and there’s a budget for them.

I’m going to contrast this with my significant other’s experience at a small but growing software company in Bellevue. They’re currently in a small transitional office, but they’re in the process of having a nice, new large office renovated for them to move into. The staff of 100-ish employees are fed a nice lunch once a week, AND every birthday in the company is celebrated with a meal. There’s a big holiday party which actually DOES NOT also function as a fundraiser with donors and board members- it’s just a fun thing to do. After selling their software to a large company, the employees who worked the hardest on the customization got iPads as a thank-you. He works full-time, sometimes more than 40 hrs a week, but not much, and he has health benefits including dental and vision (very rare), and paid time off. He can occasionally work from home. The company owners will randomly buy meals or drinks for the staff outside of the once-a-week lunch (like recently, the day after Thanksgiving, the 10 people not on vacation were taken out to a nice breakfast).

The large and highly-valued cultural institution that I work for could never, ever treat its employees this way without amassing serious debt. Shows would have to be cut. Fundraisers arranged hastily and thrown. It would be bad. And if we tried to throw a fundraiser to so that admin staff could be fed on the company dime once a week, the public would be furious.

Moving on …

Reading your post and response to Carl reminded me of my experience reading OUTRAGEOUS FORTUNE – and something Zelda F told us co-founders of Epic Theatre Ensemble ten years ago. I’m paraphrasing but it was essentially this: “when we started the regional movement, somewhere along the way the playwright fell off the truck and we never turned around to pick them back up.” I think as the economics and cultural dynamics of the regional theater evolved with various larger theatres disbanding or diminishing their rep/resident companies it does seem like even more artists are tumbling from the truck… And in the process the image of the artist as someone outside of the institution, outside of the community, is more and more perpetuated: not just by the public or by funders, but even by the artists themselves. Writers and actors emerge from training programs thinking their talent and craft is simply and minimally a portable commodity – something that lives in treetops to be pulled down to earth on a lucky occasion – and they have forgotten they can be part of the soil, be the primary community builders, the bridges between diverse populations and perspectives. Too many metaphors there, but you get the drift.
“Zak Berkman”

This is also interesting. I’ve read something before on Theatre Ideas about how artists are not migrant workers, and yet they seem to be treated that way. This definitely ties in with some of the Occupy values – values about local talent jive with the need for jobs in this country, instead of out-sourcing. The need for a rep company works with oil costs – as the cost of transportation rises, so does the cost of importing actors rather than investing in your local talent. There’s definitely a 1% of large theatres out there, who have staffs able to focus on applying for grants, while small theatres flounder because they don’t have the man-power to focus on writing grants, answering the phones, reading scripts, and directing or acting in the shows. That’s asking a lot, even if your staff is decently salaried (I mean, that’s a 14-hr day, all told!)

The real reason actors are paid so little is that 1) they are interchangeable and there’s far more supply than demand. Yes each Actor is unique in their own way. But if someone gets sick there’s an understudy, or you bring in a replacement. 2) The real reason is that many actors will work for less money is for a chance to be seen. Why? Because we all hope to become stars. And stars get lots of money and become famous. And many actors view off broadway and broadway as a stepping stone towards work on TV and Film — where they could become famous.
“Alex”

An interesting comment because it reminds me a lot of when the union movement got started in the mid-19th century, and how it is being broken down today. There’s pressure on many people to stay well over a reasonable number of hours to work, because so many people can potentially take their place (“scabs” in union terminology). It’s undermining both on a professional and personal level because you’re basically constantly told that you aren’t good enough, even if you have the job/role. Why have loyalty to a company that can so easily replace you, and has that threat built into the contract, and management’s treatment of your skills?

Overall, what I pulled from this is that we could be easily using our artistic team in other capacities, both to cut costs and so theatres can treat artists as humans rather than commodities. I think we’re underestimating theatre artists here. Think of it this way: artists have to sell themselves as a product all the time. If you’re freelance, you have to constantly look for paying work, and develop your own projects if for no other reason to have a portfolio. You have to have outreach and marketing skills, you have to be reasonably organized, you have to have a good phone voice, you have to have a good enough grasp on grammar and spelling for email correspondence as well as your resume, you have to have a certain amount of charisma for auditions and interviews, you have to be able to at least balance your own checkbook. If you are a freelancer, you probably have figured out how to use a word processor and Excel for all kinds of magical things, and you probably have crazy ninja skills with some kind of calendar program. You are your own administrative office. I know plenty of freelancers who have most of these skills in at least a moderate, entry-level way. Why can this not translate to artist-administrators? I feel like a lot of theatre companies, of all sizes, are afraid of the artists owning and running the theatre for some reason, like they’re so delicate and otherworldly that asking them to file things alphabetically or run the box office when they’re not in a show might break their creativity so bad it will never come back.

I am, however, gratified by many of these comments that people are thinking about this problem, and in some cases solving it by giving their artists a salary and making them earn it by participating in the organization in other ways. This isn’t a point to exploit artists’ time, however. I’m not suggesting we use salary and benefits as bribery for slave labor. But I do think that if an artist is truly invested in all aspects of the theatre, using all his/her talentes to keep it afloat, and we can all manage to find a healthy time balance for how much we all work at this career, then artists will be engaged in and excited about the community they work in. Less desperate, healthier, happier, and more able to express their creativity because they’re taking better care of themselves. They know their time is valued, and they know why, and that sense of agency will translate into their work.

Finally, an awesome blog to check out: Collective Arts Think Tank

This Thursday, before I shove “traditional” food into my gaping first-world face in celebration of a bunch of religious zealots attempting to eradicate indigenous cultures, I am thankful for many things. One of those things is populism in theatre reviews:

A person can write rewarding plays about well-fed people fretting over first-world problems that are rich, funny, and peel scabs off the human soul. Chekhov is an old example. Edward Albee is a more recent example. The Method Gun by the Rude Mechanicals (about silly, angst-ridden actors in New York) is a new one. Sylvia is not.

It’s not that I’m an indignant radical who clutches his déclassé pearls in horror at the faintest whiff of bourgeois bullshit—I like my champagne and oysters as much as the next enemy of the people. It’s that these kinds of plays cheapen our humanity and narrow our moral, intellectual, and artistic bandwidth with their superficiality and pettiness.

Thank you, Brendan Kiley, for not only hitting the nail on the head (this is why theatre seems to be dying, after all), but for brightening my otherwise white-guilt-ridden, credit-card-maxing horror show of a holiday.

The Intiman has made more clear their previously vague plans to reopen, and personally, I am less than inspired. Other critics seem to be torn:

Misha Berson straight-up tells the facts

Bond Huberman of Seattle Mag is pessimistic

Brendan Kiley at the Slog actually sounds optimistic

Marcie Sillman at Crosscut.com is worried about the feelings of former patrons, as well as local artists

All the points made in these articles so far are good — the Intiman is listening to the public, they’re not spending money they don’t have anymore (paving the way for good fiscal behavior of other theatres), lots of great local artists are involved (including several members and former members of Washington Ensemble Theatre, as well as Cornish College of the Arts), their line-up is reminiscent of their original mission statement, and if the Intiman doesn’t raise the money with this sneaky Kickstarter-esque festival-I-mean-fundraiser, then they will close, and they only have 20% of the money they need.

So I don’t know. I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s a “festival” of only 4 plays, and while it’s good in some ways that the Intiman is partnering with Cornish, it’s also a way of getting cheap support and labor for their productions. But, that means they’re focusing on using the income from the festival to go toward their next real season, and internships are part of a theatre artist’s existence. Yes, some of the plays in the line-up hark back to the old school mission statement, but there are local, original artists creating shows for the festival, including Marya Sea Kaminski and Dan Savage. On the other other hand, the line-up strikes me as a ploy on multiple levels – not only is it aiming at the previous, probably-disgruntled audience, it’s aiming at a whole brand new audience who will probably want to see more of this cabaret-style work. Which would basically be fine, except that this lineup of local titans brings their own fan-base to their work, so the Intiman is trying to poach off their hard work marketing themselves.

Not that any of this is new to the world. And frankly, I don’t know what else they’d do that could make me, personally, happy with them again, other than putting on a full season. And and, I don’t have a good way for them to raise the money for that other than what they’re doing. And and and, they’re taking the public’s concerns seriously. And FINALLY, this is a pretty good preview of what they have in store.

So I’m neutral on the whole situation. Will I go see the festival-I-mean-fundraiser? I haven’t decided. Do I support the direction they’re taking? Sort of, but I worry that they can’t keep it up. And, like just about everyone, I don’t see the “We have $200,000 so far but we need at least $1 million” as very encouraging. At this point, maybe it’s better to find other theatre companies to take over the space.

This article, 7 Reasons Why Theatre Makes Our Lives Better, is from TheatreWashington.org is really old news now, but I finally got around to reading it this morning. I don’t agree with all of them, of course, but two specifically were right up my alley. So, naturally, I thought I’d repost them.

Second, theatre is a sophisticated expression of a basic human need — one might call it an instinct — to mimic, to project stories onto ourselves and others, and to create meaning through narrative and metaphor.. We see this instinct expressed in children when they act out real or imagined characters and events. We have evidence of theatre-like rituals in some of the oldest human societies, long before the foundations of Western theatre in Ancient Greece. So theatre matters, in essence, because we can’t help it. It’s part of what makes us human.

…

Fourth, theatre models for us a kind of public discourse that lies at the heart of democratic life, and builds our skills for listening to different sides of a conversation or argument, and empathizing with the struggles of our fellow human beings whatever their views may be. When we watch a play, we learn what happens when conflicts don’t get resolved, and what happens when they do. We develop our faculty for imagining the outcomes of various choices we might make in our personal lives and our political lives. It’s not surprising that, in repressive societies, theatre has often been aligned with the movement toward openness and freedom. In South Africa theatre played a role in the struggle against apartheid; in Czechoslovakia, a playwright became the leader of a new democracy. If our own representatives and senators in Washington went to the theatre more often, I suspect we’d all be better off.

The other reasons — theatre does no harm, brings people together, adds to education and literacy, contributes to the economy and revitalizes neighborhoods, and influences the way we think and feel — are all important, but many things in our culture do this too. The fact that mimesis is a basic human need is reflected in the arts in general, but in particular in theatre (I’ve been involved in theatre from a young age and have always had leanings in this direction). Also, the part about discourse is particularly important, as theatre is usually associated with “higher art” and therefore reflects more complicated discourse most of the time (but not always, and not always from the venues you’d expect).

Food for thought indeed.

Lots of theatre news lately, apparently. Seattle Times featured a short piece about the future of the Intiman’s space, and how they are considering using it as the Intiman itself rebuilds.

According to Deborah Daoust, director of communications for city-run Seattle Center, the center is now eyeing a summer residency for the Intiman and considering other anchor tenants that might manage and occupy the theater on an extended basis as well.
…
Cornish College of the Arts has expressed some interest in a longer-term tenancy in the theater, Daoust and Cornish officials confirmed. Daoust said conversations between the two organizations have been preliminary, and no decisions have been made by Seattle Center about which group or groups will run the space on an ongoing basis.

“We’re very much still in process and everything is still fluid,” said Daoust. “We might do a public process where we seek proposals for future tenants of the space, but nothing’s been set.”

I’m glad that there are plans in the works for the space, in general. Part of the pain of losing theatre companies is, frankly, losing venues for performance. When a company can no longer afford their venue, not only do they rarely come back for a true season, the venue falls into disrepair since no one is actively working on upkeep. It’s tougher to rent the venue to itinerant companies, because there isn’t a specific contact person to go through.

Now, the Intiman’s space is unique because the Seattle Center actually owns it, so it was unlikely to go to waste. But it is heartening to hear that the Center is not only planning to keep using the space, but to keep using it as theatre space.

What I would love to see, since this is a unique opportunity, is sliding scale rental pricing, so smaller theatre companies can host in a bigger venue. It also might be a good opportunity to kick-start the Seattle Fringe Festival once again, with a 400+ seat venue available most of next year.