[IMPORTANT UPDATE AT THE END]
Here’s a story for you, and it’s a good one, an uplifting one in this time of constant headlines about this or that art form dying or being in yet another crisis. It’s about a little theater, a small off-off-Broadway space[1] towards the bottom of that Triangle Below Canal, a professional theatre well known for experimental work called The Flea. This little experimental theater nearly went out of business in the wake of 9/11, when Tribeca became a ruined, gray-dusted alien landscape. The Flea was only saved through a mixture of innovative fundraising and striking gold with a hit play called The Guys, a two-hander about a reporter and a firehouse hit hard by the WTC attacks that starred a roster of celebrities, ran for years and helped put the theater back on solid footing.
Now, thirteen years after the theater nearly went out of business, The Flea is thriving. Its resident acting company (called The Bats) numbers around 150 people and produces work constantly. A directing apprenticeship program helps mentor the next generation of directors. The theatre does a variety of programming with a kind of ambition—particularly where cast sizes are concerned—that no one else in town can match on a budget so small as to be almost unimaginable.
It’s a remarkable turnaround, so remarkable that The Flea has managed to raise $18 million to purchase a nearby building and convert it into a new space. The new space will have three state of the art theater spaces available to local companies to rent for cheap[2] and allow The Flea to produce more work. And so far, the plan has received rapturous coverage in the press, helping to raise the profile of The Flea even further[3].
There’s just one little wrinkle in this story, and it’s about The Bats. You know, the resident company of 150 or so early career actors? The ones the Times calls the “beating heart” of the theater? The young, hip, diverse troupe whose work helps ensure the theater is constantly full of young, hip, diverse audiences? Well, they’re unpaid.
*
Is it a problem that The Bats aren’t paid to act? It turns out that answering that question involves answering a whole lot of other sub-questions. Questions like: is acting a job? If it is, is exposure a form of payment, a kind of service in lieu of cash, perhaps? Are there mitigating circumstances that affect any of this? Does it matter that the kind of large scale, ambitious works The Bats often do at The Flea would be impossible if they had to pay their actors? Does it matter that there is the money to build an $18 million new space but seemingly no money to pay artists?
It turns out the answer to those questions change depending on who you talk to, depending on what kind of story you want to tell. The story that tends to get told about the arts leaves out labor issues[4]. If labor—and that no-no topic, pay—are brought up at all, they’re usually in the context of whether or not Broadway performers, musicians and technicians are getting paid too much, despite the fact that, as Terry Teachout discussed in the Wall Street Journal, ballooning marketing costs are largely to blame for increased ticket prices on the Great White Way. Rarely discussed in the conventional story about theater and money is that salaries are so high on Broadway because those high payments make it possible for artists to remain in a system that, except for their brief tenures in the largest theaters, will ask them to do enormous amounts of work, often for little to no money[5].
The story we tell each other about creative work, meanwhile, is that it isn’t really a job, not really, and that you should be grateful for what you can get for it, even if other people are getting paid off of the work that you do. This isn’t limited to theater. David Byrne recently talked about this issue and music in Salon, and Molly Crabapple wrote about it in the visual arts for Vice. Many (if not most) literary magazines don’t pay. Many major websites won’t pay for writing if they can get away with it. Hell, I am currently writing this essay about The Flea not paying its early career actors for a website that doesn’t pay its writers. I don’t always see a problem with this. Here at Hooded Utilitarian, no one, including Noah Berlatsky who works much, much harder on it than I, makes any money off of it. HU is a labor of love (or, for some of you, hate) where we can get together and publish things we’re unlikely to place elsewhere. It’s a site where professionals do some non-professional—but hopefully professional quality— work.
There’s a term for this kind of work—professional grade labor that goes unpaid (and is thus amateur)—and that is “pro-am.” We’ve all witnessed how the internet has created an exploding pro-am writing sector. This has been positive in all sorts of ways. There is more great writing being produced every day, easily available at little to no cost for the reader. And as long as the reader’s costs are the only part of the story you’re interested in, it’s incredible.
I started working as a theatre professional as an actor in my teens. In the twenty years since, I’ve witnessed a similar explosion in the pro-am sector in the dramatic arts. Undergrad and graduate theatre programs have grown in number and size, and the number of paying jobs outside of academia hasn’t kept pace. This dynamic has both depressed wages and fueled vibrant pockets of “independent theatre” in many American cities, as artists have come together to create work for little to no money[6].
Given this reality, perhaps the right question then is… what’s the line? When does something stop being a pro-am labor of love and start being something more problematic?
In the case of The Flea, setting the boundaries of the acceptable is thorny.The Flea exists in a specific context and a specific industry. Early career actors tend to have only a few options available to them, all of them bad. They could self-produce work at great personal cost, even if they convince Uncle Shmuel and Aunt Betsy to kick in some money. They could act in self-produced work, which is something of a crap-shoot, exposure-wise. They could intern at a theater (likely for free), stuff envelopes all day, and if they are very, very lucky get someone to come to a show of theirs from, like, I don’t know, marketing. They could go to graduate school (at, again, great personal cost[7]) and, chances are, end up right back where they were only better trained and in enormous debt. Most perniciously, they could pay to take an “audition workshop” with a casting director (or just as often, a casting director’s assistant) which is really just a pay-to-play audition.
It’s a raw deal, in other words, this life of an early career actor. And it will continue being so for the foreseeable future because—and this should read familiar to any writers out there—the supply of actors so overwhelms the demand for them that the dollar value of their labor has been depressed to, essentially, zero. Given this, what The Flea provides—real exposure, free rehearsal space, frequent opportunities to get up on stage and learn one’s craft through getting work up in front of an audience, a chance to produce work, connections, a real community of fellow artists, and the opportunity to learn various ancillary skills of theater without having to pay a dime—is nothing at which to scoff.
All The Flea asks is that, in exchange for getting to be on stage, The Bats work three hours a week doing tasks around the theatre—more if they’re currently in a show since they’re benefiting more—an exchange that, when you talk to any current Bat seems to make perfect sense. It’s hard to argue that three hours of labor in exchange for the opportunity to be in shows is onerous. Indeed, The Bats love being Bats, and don’t feel particularly exploited.
Unless you view acting in plays as labor. And how is it not labor? The Flea is charging money for people to see The Bats perform[8]. The institution is building itself based on their work. It’s one thing to accept that early career artists must be paid in exposure. It’s another thing entirely to accept that they must be paid in exposure and that they must also pay for the opportunity in sweat equity.
That sweat equity is also problematic in ways not often discussed. Three hours is not a lot of work to ask an individual Bat to do per week. But with 150 Bats, each doing at least three hours of work for free, The Flea is picking up at least 450 hours worth of free labor per week. That’s ten full time employees worth of work. While this is clearly part of what makes The Flea able to do what it does on such a shoestring—and helps explain why, despite moving to a three-performance-space complex, they’re only expanding their paid staff by two—it has the unintended side effect of further depressing wages, setting an uncomfortable precedent for how a professional theater should be run[9].
These problems are only heightened by the new $18 million building. Practices that are forgivable amongst the scrappy are less so amongst the well-appointed, as Upright Citizens Brigade and Amanda Palmer have recently learned. Supporters of The Flea I’ve spoken with will tell you that paying actors and buying a new space are separate conversations, different stories. The Flea is currently spending around $17K a month in rent, and the new space will secure their future. Furthermore, it’s nearly impossible to raise money to pay artists properly and much, much easier to get donations for “brick & mortar” projects[10].
While I agree that the new building is necessary and am happy for The Flea’s good fortune, and happier still that off-off broadway companies will have access to three nice, clean, functional spaces at a low rental cost, this is almost too clever by half, this walling off the payment of labor from conversations about budgets, about donations, about the “public good” part of a nonprofit’s mission. It may be true that the problems of The Flea are the problems of the industry that The Flea is in. But that doesn’t mean The Flea shouldn’t show leadership on issues of labor fairness.
After all, The Flea has retooled The Bats before, to the mutual benefit of both the company and the theater. The work hour requirements for The Bats used to be higher, and the jobs more menial. The Bats used to perform in fewer shows, there used to be fewer of the Bats, and, according to current and former members I spoke to, less of a sense of community. The Flea even once charged actors a fee to audition[11], something they’d never imagine doing today. The Flea also hasn’t precluded rejiggering the program again three years from now when the new building is complete.
There are a number of changes The Flea could make that would still allow them to do ambitious large-cast projects with an excited community of performers while showing leadership on labor issues. The Flea could simply begin paying The Bats when they appear in shows. It needn’t be a large amount of money; even a stipend would send the message that the theater values The Bats and takes their art seriously. Being a Bat is often likened to a kind of practical graduate school, a training-by-doing program. Part of that training could—and should—include teaching The Bats that their art is worthwhile enough to be paid for practicing it.
If The Flea does not want to do that, they could drop the work requirement. Or they could work with the actors’ union to turn The Bats into an Equity Membership Candidacy program, a true apprenticeship[12] that ends with the actors well on their way to Union membership[13].
More drastically, The Flea could drop the 1-2 professional shows from their annual calendar and cease calling themselves a professional theater altogether. This wouldn’t stop them from working with professional artists from time to time, particularly where playwrights and directors are concerned. The model for how The Bats work, a tight knit group of artists who do most of the work around the space including everything from running the concession stand to hanging the lights, is already closer to that of a community theater than it is to anything else. While “community theater” is a term loaded with all sorts of associations, most of them negative, it is where most Americans will go to see (or take part in) large cast, ambitious shows that don’t pay actors.
There will not be any pressure on The Flea (and other, even worse companies) to reform so long as the story we tell about art remains the same. So long as we keep telling each other that exposure is payment, that erecting a new building is the only true sign of success, and that labor issues are irrelevant, so long as we keep writing the same story, glowingly reporting the official line without digging an inch deeper, we’ll be stuck in the same place: Bigger, shinier buildings—or websites sold to AOL—with broke-ass people getting paid less and less to do the creative work that keeps them alive.
UPDATE: Since this article was posted, one of the people I interviewed for it (the one mentioned in the final footnote) e-mailed to say that she neglected to mention during our interview about The Bats and and payment that The Bats receive a nominal stipend during tech rehearsals, since those are what are known as “10 out of 12s” which is to say, 12 hour rehearsals with two one hour meal breaks. This schedule makes it impossible for Bats to make money elsewhere, like temping or waiting tables etc. while in tech. The stipend was introduced last year and is variable, but under $50. This means that, when they appear in shows, the Bats are no longer working for free, which is a positive step.
That said, when The Bats are not working in shows, they are still doing 3 hours a week of uncompensated labor around the space. And I would furthermore argue that less than $50, framed entirely as a way to make up for hourly wages lost elsewhere during tech rehearsals, is still inadequate. It is far less, for example, than the daily subway fare a Union actor is paid in a showcase production. And the larger issues of how we value the people who actually create art in our culture remain. But it is a positive step in the right direction and reinforces my hope and belief that The Flea wants to find ways to do right by their ensemble.
[1] Off-off Broadway refers not to theater location but the kind of Union contract it uses when working with members of Actor’s Equity Association (aka Equity or AEA). Off-off Broadway codes are for New York City theaters under a hundred seats. Off-Broadway is the designation for theaters holding between 100 and 499 souls. Anything larger and you’re in Broadway contract territory.
[2] This is no small thing. Theater space—even a 50 seat shithole—can cost thousands of dollars a week to rent, making the amount of cash young companies have to shell out to produce their work often the largest parts of their budgets.
[3] This is one of the reasons why theaters embark on building campaigns. Often the first season after a new building opens brings more audience members and donors, although I once heard a fundraising consultant say that those new donors and viewers often vanish after that first year or two.
[4] It was highly controversial, for example, when Jason Zinoman made the argument in the New York Times that the Upright Citizens Brigade should start paying at least some of its performers, given that a large and very successful institution had been built off of their labor.
[5] A union actor acting in an off-off Broadway show can make as little as daily subway fare in pay. Union actors working Off-Broadway often make under $500 a week. And that’s when they’re actually working on a show. Things like staged readings don’t always pay. And, of course, there’s the gaps between gig when actors aren’t getting paid at all.
Perhaps this is too much to get into in this space, but this is one of the many reasons why the current theatre system is set up the way it is, with larger “regional” (non-NYC) theaters hiring NYC-based actors. The theaters pay a premium for what is generally considered a more talented labor pool. Actors then make more money on the road both through higher weekly salaries and through subletting their apartments back in New York. It’s a system that screws just about everyone. Working actors pay an enormous premium to have a NYC mailing address. Local actors often won’t even get to audition for shows in their hometowns. And for audiences, to paraphrase monologist Mike Daisey, it’s something akin to going to see your hometown baseball team and finding out they’ve been replaced by a bunch of people who guested on Law & Order a couple of times.
[6] The vast majority of Portland, Oregon’s theatre scene is made up of pro-am companies, for example. It’s worth saying that some indie theater companies take pride in compensating their artists to the best of their abilities.
[7] Nearly all graduate schools for theatre cost roughly one vital organ per year to attend.
[8] As this audition notice (http://www.theflea.org/blog_detail.php?page_type=4&blog_id=238) makes clear, performing is a lot of work in and of itself. In case you don’t feel like clicking over and reading it, this Bats production asks actors to commit to almost two months of six-days-a-week rehearsals plus two months of 5-days-a-week performances, tying up their schedule from January until May. This would, amongst other things, keep them from getting paying acting work for half of the normal theatrical season.
[9] After all, can you really call yourself a professional theater if the majority of the work in your theatre is done on a non-professional basis?
[10] Most of the money for the new building is coming from the City of New York. By comparison , the National Endowment for the Arts is legally barred from giving money directly to artists to support the making of art.
[11] According to an actor who auditioned during this time and joined The Bats a year later, in the wake of 9/11 they charged prospective Bats $25 to audition, saying that they needed to cover the hole in their budget caused by the terrorist attacks.
[12] The Bats are called volunteers, not apprentices or interns. Were the program called an internship, it could be illegal, as by law interns cannot do the work traditionally done by paid employees and more benefit must accrue to the intern than to the company they work for. These laws are on the books to prevent companies from skirting minimum wage laws, something it could be argued The Bats’ weekly work hours requirement clearly does.
[13] There are almost no professional actors in the non-profit system who aren’t members of Actors Equity Association. You cannot be a member of AEA and be part of The Bats. One Bat I spoke to loved being a Bat so much (and was getting regular acting work that she cared about) that she declined joining the Union so she could stay in the group.
The visual arts equivalent of “pro-am” occurs when artists are asked to donate artworks to non-profit institutions (artists spaces, museums, etc.) for fund-raising auctions. The problems are that artist is usually paid nothing (and can’t even deduct the fair market value of the work from their taxes, only the cost of materials), and that art sold in charity auctions often goes for less than market price, potentially depressing the price for an artist’s work. (Some artists I know have particular contempt for collectors who, seeking bargains, only buy from charity auctions. And I have personally found some great bargains at these auctions which have permitted me to buy artworks that I would never have been able to otherwise afford.) But these auctions and the artists who donate work for them are a major part of the economic ecology of the art world. The spaces they support are highly important to artists, and they want to do what they can to support them. And artists are not usually in the position to write big checks–so they donate art.
This is a critical issue. The Flea may operate on a ‘shoestring’, but this is in fact a wealthy organization run by wealthy people. If they care about the credibility of the field (and the future of it), they should pay their young actors, even if it is a nominal sum. The idea that these young people are both unpaid and providing free labor is very disturbing. Given everything these actors are asked to provide (their hard work on and off stage, their seasonal time commitment, their willingness to put-off union affiliation, etc.) it seems downright immoral. A fancy building built on the backs of the under-paid worker- where have we heard that before?
Do people ever try to fundraise on issues of pay? The Bats seem visible enough and central enough to the theater that it seems like you could go to donors and ask for funds to pay them. You could even rename the Bats, like they were a sports stadium. (US Cellular performers.)
Briefly, Noah, no they do not. Not in *theatre*. In academia, orchestras, opera and ballet, there are endowed chairs and sponsored performers. This has not caught on in theatre. Or, clearly, in literature, but most of that world is commercial rather than non-profit. There’s a couple of reasons for this. Money tends to follow NEA grants and the NEA is now legally prohibited from funding artists to make art. Donors really like having something permanent with their names on it, etc. and so forth. But I also think it’s because as a culture we do not value the people who make the things we use or the art that gives us such delight.
This reminds me of a couple of stories. First one – James Marsters, who played Spike on Buffy was a theater actor in Seattle. He wasn’t making much money but worked with an older actor who Marsters admired very much. He was talking with the guy, who had appeared in many shows over the years, and the older actor said that he hoped to make enough money at the production both were performing to get his car fixed. So when Marters decided to try his luck in LA, he was prepared to play guy number two on ALF if it payed.
Second story. This one might be just a legend. Michael Caine wasn’t at the Oscars to pick up the award for his work on “Hannah and Her Sisters” because he was in the Bahamas filming Jaws XXVMMII. When asked “what did you do that movie for” his reply was “for a million dollars.”
That struck me as a very good response. As someone said, being a starving artist when you’re single can be kind of romantic. Being a starving artist when you have a family to support is selfish. As someone said the second word is “show business” is business. For centuries artists were supported by patrons. Many of the great works of the Renaissance were actually political pieces meant to show how great the Borgias were. Money may be an evil, but it’s a necessary one.
I’m consistently baffled by the lack of union ambition in young actors of my acquaintance. By no means are AEA, SSD or SAG-AFTRA perfect, but the first step towards creating more paying jobs is removing some quality from the free acting/directing pools that simply are not shrinking, but quickly growing from a group of young actors/writers/directors/designers to a quorum of talented, trained and able artists of all ages in all cities. Paying landlords and not artists is the most depressing aspect of existing in what is a terribly difficult industry.
The Flea now appear to have the power and resources to change the landscape of NYC theater by paying actors. How revolutionary, beautiful and symbolic! But they don’t do it. This is Scrooge-y. Being a starving artist is not romantic. It is terror. It always has been. I must be missing something here. There’s got to be some real reason? (Meanwhile I go into over-draft protection so my actors don’t feel like rubes.)
Preach, Isaac Butler!!! Years ago when I was a young lady on the verge of finishing acting school, I had a teacher who told us flat out not to audition for The Bats because they make the actors scrub the toilets. All young actors know they’ll have to work for free to fill their resumes, but that work should only include acting. Because you can’t put toilet scrubbing on your acting resume. It’s exploitation, plain and simple.
I worked in theater administration at Olympia Dukakis’ off-off-Broadway theater back in 1989. I was paid, but the salary was shockingly tiny. There was a joke about anyone in the Arts having to take a vow of poverty. There was also a range of well-off business folks on the board of trustees and lots of money earmarked for expansions, etc. If all of the employees had received reasonable salaries, the theater would have gone under. In fact, financial constraints drove it under anyway. But what does it mean that artistic institutions need to exploit labor just to exist?
Oh my. Such a sense of dejavu. I remember having many of these conversations when I was starting my theatre career as an actor in Seattle. My first full time paying acting job was for PONCHO Theatre, now Seattle Children’s Theatre. And yes, we were often asked to help clean the theatre, put up posters, and stuff envelopes. But first of all, we were paid to act. Most of us had second or third jobs because what we were paid was not enough to live on, but I remember after the first year of our CETA funded company’s season when our salaries were increased from $75 a week to $125, I felt I could finally quit my waitress job! We performd in a small theatree on the grounds of the Woodland Park Zoo, and it was not the best venue, and eventually the company was forced to leave. But I am proud and grateful that the administrative and artistic staff and the board decided that people were more important that a building at that time. It appears to me that although SCT has beautiful state of the art “digs” now, 35 years later, there is still the care and consideration of the artists first. Perhaps it is because Linda Hartzell, the Artistic Director, was herself a member of the stripling company in the ’70’s. But in reading this post, it makes me sad to think that not all organizations have come as far.
Noah’s idea about renaming the bats is hilarious, and depressingly true.
There’s a weird parallel here with how college sports programs don’t pay their athletes. The entertainment-industrial complex at work…
On the other hand, I’m not sure acting should always be compartmentalized away from the context that makes it possible– the upkeep of the theater. Is a theater better off with separated professional actors and professional janitors? Or is there something strangely wise about creating a monastery-ish art institution?
Theaters, museums, stadiums are highly artificial structures that require a lot of maintenance from invisible laborers– is the showcased artistry always the most significant thing about them? Can both systems– professional and pro-am, exist as options, without one side parasitizing or weakening the other? I think that’s a major fear. Things also get very tricky in that other people are profiting off of that much unpaid labor.
This article made me mad. I’m an actor and director. Lately, I’ve taken to producing my own work —- and I ALWAYS pay my actors and staff at least a little something to show my respect and faith in their professionalism. I’m a member of three labor unions (AEA, SAG-AFTRA, IATSE) and the union point of view suffuses my work in the arts. Work Union, Live Better.
Alex Carney you are awesome. Just thinking about the Flea squirming out of paying actors based on some dumb principle (i.e.: cheapness) they concocted makes me mad too. I will combat it by not seeing plays there— which is a great weapon we artists have…
It’s worth noting that while the Flea may be wealthy in terms of assets, it is not a large organization in terms of annual budget. If you look at their financials in 2009-2011 (the only years available, found on Guidestar.com), their annual budget was in the $1-1.5 million range. They had income of $4mil one year, presumably related to their capital campaign. In 2011, the salary of the Artistic Director/Board President/Founder, Jim Simpson, was $25,000 and in the two years prior it was $0. The compensation packages of the other staff is not readily available, but the leader of the organization certainly isn’t being paid extravagantly at the expense of the artists.
Compare to, say, the New York Theatre Workshop (income: $4-7 mil, artistic director compensation: $140,000) or Signature ($4-8 mil, AD: $240,000, Managing director: $140,000). The Flea is a small theatre, and its compensation for leadership as a percentage of income is less than half of that paid to other off-Broadway theatres.
That’s not to say that I agree with not paying actors, but in this context, we should remember that this company appears to be operating more closely to a community theatre business model than the more established New York Off-Broadway theatres.
I would guess not many actors from low-income backgrounds can take part in this program, and that’s too bad for the future of theater, which needs to bring in as many new people as it can to stay alive. Doesn’t this just further the stereotype that theater is only for rich people?
Out of curiosity, do the volunteers on the creative side retain any creative ownership of the productions?
I ask because the comic book arts have had their own version of Bats for more than 50 years. The overwhelming majority of these folks are on the fan-publications side of the equation, which is apparently the rough equivalent to off-Broadway productions in theater arts.
I’ve been doing “pro-am” work for about 40 years now, and I’ve been OK with that as long as I retained the copyright on the artwork or writing I produced.
In 1975, I had a bit of a run-in with one fan publisher, when he saw fit to mask off the copyright indicator I had put on two unpaid covers I drew for him. He relented after I complained, and never again messed with the copyright symbols on other covers I submitted that were published.
A few fan publications became quite profitable utilizing Bats work — in particular “The Buyer’s Guide for Comic Fandom” (TBG). I did quite a bit of work for them over the years — all unpaid — and while I’m sure most other contributors were unpaid as well, I found out in the late 1970s that a few very select folks were being paid a nominal amount. Alan Hanley, for example, told me circa 1978 he was receiving $5 a page for his comic book story pages.
TBG became such a profitable operation that when publisher Alan Light sold it to Krause Publications in 1983, he was paid so much, he essentially retired at about the ripe young age of 30. TBG, of course, was re-christened “Comics Buyer’s Guide” and continued on as a slick national publication for nearly three more decades.
But TBG was built on the shoulders of its Bats — and the same thing could happen in the case of the Flea. But unlike me, the Bats have no copyright claim — just a resume bullet.
This problem stems from two reasons: 1) artists continue to work for free; 2) funders and consultants press arts organizations to buy facilities. Funders will donate money for buildings but not salaries. We need to do a much better job of educating our boards and funders about our needs.
Hey James,
Again, that’s why I actually think the thing the most logical thing for The Flea to do is to ditch the “professional” aspects of the theater. I know no one at the Flea makes much money and their operating budget is small. My issue is less one of the admin staff personally enriching themselves than it is an institution being built off of free labor AND the larger effects it has on wages in the sector. (Similarly, if you read Zinoman’s piece about UCB linked above, the folks who run UCB don’t take a salary at all.)
I think I’ve mentioned it before, but fwiw — I actually don’t have ads on this site because I feel like if I’m asking everyone else to volunteer, then my work should be unpaid as well. Even if you’re not making much money, if other’s are donating time and effort for free, you start to get into the question of why you’re profiting off their work and they aren’t.
Nicole — You’re right, but in the case of comics fans, or off-broadway, without those alternatives, most creative types would have NO creative outlet. Everyone can’t work on Broadway or work for a major comic book company, and everyone needs an outlet where they can hone their skills. In the comics biz, scores of fanzine/small press contributors eventually worked their way into professional, paying gigs. Of course, that fact is taken advantage of all the time.
Wow, I always manage to pay my actors something – even when I was unemployed. And I certainly never expected them to do shitwork on top of acting.
Meanwhile the Flea Theater Board of Directors seems to be full of wealthy people. And somehow they feel justified in making actors clean toilets for them. Life is sweet for the 1%, ain’t it?
@Nancy: Though the board is volunteering their time and effort to fund the theatre. Cleaning the toilets is no more FOR the board than it is FOR the staff and artists.
James: the board is volunteering their time and effort to get the cache of being associated with the arts. Did you read the resumes of the board? Here, take a look:
http://www.theflea.org/page.php?page_type=1&page_id=7
Most of them could personally pay for a cleaning staff to come in twice a week out of their pocket change.
This web site claims that Sigourney Weaver is worth $40M.
http://www.celebritynetworth.com/richest-celebrities/actors/sigourney-weaver-net-worth/
There are plenty of economists, lawyers and bigwigs at banks and other giant corporations.
What do you estimate the average net worth of the Flea Board of Directors might be? There are a few artsy types on the board which might drag it down a little, but I’m going to estimate $10M.
They could afford to pay at least minimum wage to the Bats. But it’s just soooo easy to exploit a bunch of kids, why wouldn’t they?
Wow, there’s no way to correct typos through this interface? What century is this?
You probably have no frame of reference for how fabulously well the 1% are doing. I’ll let Krugman explain:
One side reaction: the movie showed the Hamptons, with the caption “two hours from Manhattan.” Only for the little people, guys. Almost 20 years ago — when Wall Street paychecks were small by modern standards — I asked some investment bankers whether getting out to their Hamptons places was a hard drive; there was a silence, then someone said, “It’s only half an hour by helicopter.” In a way, the point is that even Ferguson (director/producer of “Inside Job”) doesn’t quite grasp just how big the gaps in life experience have grown.
http://krugman.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/12/06/inside-job/
And one more thing, while I’m here – I saw “The Guys” and it may have made money for the Flea, but I thought it was pedestrian and not very dramatic at all considering the subject.
“Wow, there’s no way to correct typos through this interface? What century is this?”
It’s part of our amateurish charm. (or so I tell myself.)
The saddest part of this practice to me, is the amount of very talented people driven away from the arts. I was a costume designer in Chicago, straight of college I received a prestigious internship for a year and then moved to Chicago where I and many friends from college were all working hard for many storefront (Chicago’s equivallent of off-off Broadway) including a small company founded by alum from our school. We were all working hard for little-to-no pay.
Now we’re all in our thirties and of the approximately 30 former members of our company, only two still regularly work in theatre (and of those two, one has am excellent day job as a computer programmer and the other has very wealthy parents and a husband with an incredible paying job) the rest of us had to give it up. Getting paid next to nothing and working 60 hours a week on top of a crappy day job, just gets old as you leave your twenties behind. I myself quite after I designed a show for a company that wanted me to make 45 costumes on my own (they have no shop) for a stipend of $500. At first i was excited, that was the highest I’d yet been paid by a theatre, until i finished and they told me during tech that i also had to come do the laundry and i started thinking about the amount of time I’d spent seeing and now i was expected to do more work so i did the math. The amount of time i put in to that show came out to $ 1.25 an hour. That’s when I decided to leave theatre. I still do custom work for friends and recommendations. But I’m a physical therapist now, my husband was a sound designer, he now works for the State.
It makes me sad, I’m sure if you looked at the stats of so-called “pro-am” artists, you would find a significant drop in each age starting around 29, when having your electricity cut off at least once a year starts getting old
Yes, Jim Simpson makes $25,000/year, but as mentioned in an above comment, his wife is worth $40 million. I’m guessing most of the Bats don’t have that kind of wealth supplementing their careers.
Every generation tackles this topic at numerous conferences and in discussions like this one. Issues and options are reviewed, ideas shared, and every org or group adopts what works just enough for them to be able to get something on stage, but obviously no one answer exists. Take cold comfort from the fact that ours is not the only industry whose skills are undervalued and greater good is misaligned.
Nancy,
It’s easy to blame the ills of this industry on the 1%, isn’t it?
If it weren’t for well-to-do benefactors, we’d have many fewer options and many fewer performances. They already stake so much of the US Arts industry, I find it crass to suggest that they should be responsible for more.
What happened to the industry? The electronic screen in your living room. That’s why we can’t get audiences for smaller productions. Like it or not, choosing to be an artist is choosing to live a life of passion, rather than comfort.
And THANK YOU to all those that donate their time, talent, or dollars to make our world richer with art.
LOL! Have you ever seen “Chinatown” Michael? There’s a section you should watch:
***
GITTES
How much are you worth?
CROSS
(shrugs, then)
I have no idea. How much do you want?
GITTES
I want to know what you’re worth — over ten million?
CROSS
Oh, my, yes.
GITTES
Then why are you doing it? How much better can you eat? What can you buy
that you can’t already afford?
CROSS
(a long moment, then:)
The future, Mr. Gittes — the future…
***
Over the past 30 years the US economy has had vast increases in productivity. Which would have gone to the 99% who then could maybe afford to produce plays, etc.
But that productivity was sucked up by the 1% like a gigantic sponge.
And now the rest of us must grovel before them, asking for their hand-outs to keep the arts going.
Most of the people on the board of The Flea have much more money than they can ever use, and the bulk of it will go to their heirs, who haven’t done a damn thing to earn it.
Meanwhile, they want the future.
Look at David Koch – how dare we criticize him for destroying the environment and the safety net, when he gave us a lovely building for ballet called the David H. Koch Theater?
But the problem for Koch and his class is that sometimes the peons will complain, in public, about the exploitation of the workers. And while many of the 1% can ignore it, there are enough members of the 1% who are concerned that if word of the exploitation got out it might make them look bad, for posterity, if not right now.
And so our complaining about their actions might actually be enough to guilt trip some of them into doing the right thing.
But they can always count on Libertarian toadies to defend them, because Libertarians worship the concentration of wealth – and they don’t give a goddam how it’s made or how it’s disposed of. Libertarians tell us to shut up and be glad that the wealthy have decided to give us art – and if we aren’t grateful enough they’ll just take their art money away and give it to better-behaved peons somewhere else.
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Compare the Canadian approach to grants with the NEA. The NEA funds non-profit organizations. The Canadian program for grants to make records funds artists. Funding organizations reinforces the absurd stereotypes that it takes arts business leaders to generate art, and that artists don’t have the business acumen or organizational skills to complete projects.
The NEA used to give individual artists grants, but because it gave some grants to sexually open performance artists (the “NEA four”) and Jesse Helms noticed, the NEA changed its policies. This was part of the so-called “culture wars” of the 90s. The policy was not changed because anybody thought artists were lacking the business acumen that institutions have.
As for trustees and board members (two words for the same thing), the structure of a 501(c)3 non-profit requires that you have a board of directors of trustees. This is for any non-profit, no matter how large or small. Typically, board members are required to pony up some cash. For example, I was on a board where every board member was expected to contribute at least $1000 per year. Often board members are required to do some work for the organization. This can be professional work (if a board member is a lawyer or an accountant, for example) or just being an usher. I cleaned out storerooms for the non-profit for which I was a board member. (Not all board members are part of the 1%, in other words.) Board members are expected to be rainmakers, too. You’re supposed to hit up your friends and colleagues to give money to the non-profit.
I was on the board of a small dance company. The director was the leader of the company. She ran the thing, we helped. And we got plenty of grants from large grant-making organizations, including the Houston Art Alliance, which is the City of Houston’s municipal grant-making organization. We never got an NEA grant while I was a board member, though.
The point is, with small arts non-profits, they usually are run by artists. So if the NEA gives a grant to them, it’s not a grant to an individual artist, but it’s pretty close! It’s when institutions get bigger that they bring in professional management.
BUT there is no reason an art institution has to be a 501(3)c in the first place. There are really good tax advantages to being a non-profit, but I know several small arts institutions locally that have no legal status at all or are legally “for profit” enterprises.
As far as I can tell the FLEA is essentially breaking the law unless all of the actors are knowingly volunteering there time as actors and not being paid at all. THe problem with the FLEA upgrading to paying the BATS anything would mean paying all of them at least minimum wage b/c according to NYS all actors have to be paid as employees. There is no middle ground – which is why THE FLEA is unable to make the jump easily – as we all know taking on part time employees is a much different situation than just hiring 1099 independent contractors.
NEW YORK STATE DEPARTMENT OF LABOR
GOV. W. AVERELL HARRIMAN STATE OFFICE BUILDING CAMPUS ALBANY, N.Y. 12240
GUIDELINES FOR DETERMINING WORKER STATUS: PERFORMING ARTISTS
The following are guidelines used by the Unemployment Insurance Division, the Division of Labor Standards and the Division of Safety and Health to establish whether the relationship between a performing artist and the party engaging the services is an employment relationship or that of an independent contractor.
Independent contractors are excluded from coverage under the Unemployment Insurance Law and are not afforded the protections provided by Labor Standards and Safety and Health requirements . These are persons who are actually in business for themselves and hold themselves available to the general public to perform services. A person is an independent contractor only when free from control and direction in the performance of services. All factors concerning the relationship between the two parties must be taken into consideration to determine if the party contracting for the services exercises, or has the right to exercise supervision, direction or control over the performer. No one single factor is controlling, nor do all factors need to be present to establish the nature of the relationship.
For the purposes of these guidelines, the term “performer” will include, but is not limited to, services performed by a musician, singer, comedian, disc jockey, magician, karaoke player or dancer. These guidelines address performers’ relationships with establishments, band or orchestra leaders, theatrical and film productions or symphony organizations and agencies. Refer to the section that applies to your type of organization.
Section 511.1(b)(1-a) of the Unemployment Insurance Law includes in the definition of employment the services of performing artists at certain establishments unless there is a written contract stipulating them to be employees of someone else. However, the courts and the Unemployment Insurance Appeal Board have held that the statute creates a presumption of employment which can be rebutted. Through application of common law tests of supervision, direction and control, an employer may rebut the presumption of employment and demonstrate that it was not the entity engaging the services, or that the relationship with the performer was that of an independent contractor.
Employers may request a formal determination of the status of individuals or groups performing services for unemployment insurance purposes by writing to the Liability and Determination Section and furnishing complete details of the relationship. An employer who assumes an individual performs services as an independent contractor and does not report and pay taxes based upon the assumption, may find they are subject to a retroactive assessment, interest, or increased tax rates, if it is later determined through an audit, benefit claim or some other review, that there was an employment relationship. Therefore, it is to the employer’s advantage to request a determination when the status of performers is in question.
The Department of Labor is implementing these guidelines with an effective date of January 1, 1998. Therefore, employers may discontinue reporting individuals for unemployment insurance purposes where the application of the guidelines results in a status of independent contractor as of the first quarter of 1998. Please note the prospective nature of the implementation. As a result, the Unemployment Insurance Division will not issue redeterminations and refunds for previously reported individuals.
IA 318.17 (2/98)
Employers with questions regarding the interpretation or application of the “indicators” outlined in the guidelines in relation to an unemployment insurance matter may contact the Liability and Determination Section at (518) 457-5807. Employers with questions in relation to a Division of Labor Standards issue should call (518) 457-4321. Division of Safety and Health issues may be referred to (518) 457-1212.
THEATRICAL AND FILM PRODUCTIONS AND SYMPHONY ORGANIZATIONS
INDICATORS OF INDEPENDENCE
In most film and theatrical production cases, performers would not be determined to be independent contractors.
The indicators a performer is an independent contractor when performing services for a Symphony Organization are:
1. The performer or featured performer negotiates the rate of pay.
2. The performer retains the right to exercise artistic control over the performance.
3. The performer negotiates or controls the conditions of the engagement, e.g. stage set up, security, transportation, food, beverage, etc.
4. The featured performer provides services under a single engagement arrangement. INDICATORS OF EMPLOYMENT
The strong indicators a performer is an employee when performing services for a theatrical or film production, or symphony organization are:
1. The performer is paid at a rate established solely by the production company or organization.
2. The production company or organization makes standard withholdings from the performer’s pay, e.g. income tax, social security, etc.
3. The performer is covered under the production company or organization’s Worker’s Compensation policy.
4. The production company or organization retains artistic control of the performance.
5. The performer is paid to attend, or is required to attend rehearsals.
Other indicators a performer is an employee when performing services for a theatrical or film production, or symphony organization are:
6. The production company or organization provides substitutes or replacements if the performer is unable to provide services.
??-5-
7. Attire is dictated by the production company or organization.
8. The production company or organization establishes breaks.
9. The performer is provided with music or other materials for the performance.
Thank you for this insightful article. I am continually baffled by the ability of artistic institutions (and universities) to raise millions of dollars for buildings, educational outreach programs, you name it – but for actually paying their artists? Never.
I see that there are eleven ‘staff’ members at The Flea. Do they get paid? Do writers and directors get paid? I’m a big fan of the Sally Potter principle which she used in The Gold Diggers: everyone gets paid the same (low) daily rate, regardless of function; and I use it in my own projects all the time. Wouldn’t work for The Flea’s writers, but might for everyone else– ‘staff’, actors, directors etc.
“enough to guilt trip some of them into doing the right thing”
I think we need to find ways to persuade benefactors that there is something better than evading guilt as a reward for sharing their wealth with performing artists. What is in it for them? When we figure out what motivates them (inclusion? power? recognition?) and offer it to them in exchange for donations, we’re closer to getting what we want to actually happen.
Nancy,
I let your comment lie for a while, but I do think it needs a response. If you rely on donor-funding to do what you love then you will always be beholden to that donor. And yes, if you are not sufficiently grateful, they will give their money to more worthy peons.
The single best way to break that cycle is to make profitable productions. Put on plays that people WANT to see. Price tickets to cover expenses. Run a theater like a business.
But of course, that means you’ll have to “sell out” and will never make “real art” again. Tough luck. Get a grip. If you want to produce some obscura from Tennessee Williams, then buck up and find a backer who will give you the funding. And ask nicely. Show them that you appreciate that they’re willing to waste money on your dreams. And you can start by dropping the arrogance that artists are better human beings than the people who believe in them and support them.
I never said anything about “selling out” or “real art.” You just invented that out of thin air – part of the process of manufacturing a strawman, I suppose.
Go back and read what I said. Part of the reason that there is this donor economy is because the top 1% are so incredibly wealthy at the expense of the bottom 99%. There would be more money to go around for the peons to put on their own plays if the economic inequality was not so extreme.
But since that’s not going to end any time soon, the very least we can do is let the 1% know that along with the cachet of being an arts donor – and I do think they do it for the cachet, and not just because they’re such huge altruists – comes some responsibility to the people at the bottom.
Just a little bit. But even that’s too much for the Libertarians, so concerned that any wealthy person might be discomfited for a moment.
A Chicago actor here. I believe strongly that if a theatre can afford to hire full-time staff, to hire a costume designer, director, and pay a house manager, they should be obligated to pay actors something. If there is not enough left over, then that theatre should not be putting on shows. period. Obviously there are some exceptions (community theatre, limited run showcase with minimal rehearsals) but if you are trying to make a profit as a theatre, have your show reviewed, require at least a four week rehearsal and more than a four week run, than I think there is absolutely no excuse for not paying your actors.
In Chicago, actors are in most cases, the last people to be paid. Even if they are paid, it is a nominal fee and I can assure you much less than anyone else who is getting paid at the theater. I think that’s abusive. I have been in shows where I was paid a 100-200 stipend that subsequently sold out in the run and was not offered any more compensation. The last show I was in, the theatre was making more than 2500 dollars per show and I was making the equivalent of around $8 per show. Often I am lucky if I can get more than 2 comps for a show. With the amount of friends and family who usually come to see me in a show, the theatre will make a profit of around $200 for me just being in the show. If you are not paying your actors, you are not only benefiting from the time and energy they give to a project, you are also gaining financially from them since friends, people they know will pay to see the show more often than not.
An actor should be paid at least the price of one full admission. Anything below IMO is unprofessional.
I think this needs to be talked about more.
Having a Motherload Festival “Award Winning” high school academic background in a student run ensemble theatre program, gives me some perspective, but not much, to this specific case. One: being it’s the only art form I have been “award winning” in (which provides actually zero perspective, but I only get to bring it up in these rare moments). Two: I joined it my senior year. All my friends were “drama freaks” and I was the visual artist (comics geek, with some band geek cred). Beyond history and High Jump, I had no other academic or extra curricular prospects. To be honest, I came from a very smart, driven family, but beyond Comics and Rock ‘n Roll (both being a stretch at the time) I don’t know what I was going to do. So after my first performance, when some of my talented “drama freak” friends expressed over the top enthusiasm for my performance, mentioning something about talent. I said, “yeah well, it would be nice if it was in something that I could make a living at.”
One said, “well this is it.”
Yeah, even then I knew I was screwed. Also, if that’s the case, then I have nothing to loose in doing Art my way.
Flash forward and I have two career paths (slightly intermingled) which share much resemblance to the above story. Which I knew nothing about before reading. Thank you for your unpaid efforts. Best informed communication I read today! These two areas are not Theater and Writing (thankfully…being dyslexic…well there is writing…but not on your level…or a normal level). It’s Comics (OH’ YEAH COMICS…so yeah writing!) and Art Education (so…yeah writing!).
By the way my day job is in Medicine…an unintended path paved by nepotism…which I am actually good at and sacred to loose…which will happen.
Anyway, Education as it pertains to our little theatre stories example:
Teaching is like most professions, good teachers started teaching before it was official. Along the way they learn their subjects, professional expertise ect…oh wait…most don’t…most just go strait into teaching…but that is what I did…was teaching unofficially, learned my subject, earned professional expertise and then I PAID to learn how to teach and continue to learn how to teach and about my subject. Learning and growing professionally as a teacher and in your field is essential and if you are a good teacher, it’s a fun habit you have had for a long time. PAYING for it sucks. Especially if you already paid for education in your subject of choice, which I had (more on that when I talk about Comics).
Now every “profession” has this experience. Some folk, have parents that pay, or donated funds for being awesome or because there have been obstacles through out history in the path others who resemble you…so now you get a leg up (which I am fine with, generally). Most folks, including people in these other two groups need to work and go into debt to afford living and learning. Some professions have systems in place that reward these investments. The Medical Industries economics are all kinds of messed up, but most any Dr. who can rain in the ego and economic expectations (and take a business class) can make up their high expenses.
Teaching is not as destitute as the Unions want you to think, but there are some comparative realities. I was working in a medical practice full time, taking classes at night, was a landlord, a new father and a “cartoonist,” with a full time working wife (medical professional by day, Jeweler by night). To finish my program and get my teachers license (I had taught in every environment out side of this requirement as College Professor to a Teacher in a Correctional System), I had to be a “Student Teacher,” an unpaid Intern. I had to PAY to do this. I was forbid to work during this time; a semester. So my wife filled in for my work load at our office (getting paid the same), she picked up my slack with parenting, increased her stress, stress went up in our marriage and my stress went up, as I tried to learn more about being a teacher. Which seems counter intuitive, because if asked, I would teach my students to avoid this opportunity.
Once you have paid and come close to ruining your life in the pursuit of a passion for helping others learn from your mistakes and their own, you discover….there is no place for you in education. Unless you are willing to leave any stability and start at $7000 a year and/or play high school social games forever, waiting for others to die, so you can get a seat at the table. If you do, you can win big, become complacent and loose your purpose and effectiveness as an educator. Or you can become bitter and walk away…not sure if I have another choice at this point. I am considering starting a school. Since I care for public education, but public education doesn’t care for me (and yes, I qualify for the check list they are looking for…no recruitment letter).
Now Comics:
They say, and it’s true, you pick up a drawing and writing implement and something to make marks on. You have something to say and show, you put that in a sequence and you are a Cartoonist. Much like theatre and teaching…you can start anytime. Talent is a fine thing to have, curiosity, work ethic, a point of view, a critical eye is better. Lots of people have made it far with these methods. Far more have not. Now a days, you can go to school. It’s a racket, just like any of the above institutional descriptions. You pay, no guaranties, but with your own drive you can make it worth it. I may be the first person to have overdone this approach. I got my BFA in Sequential Art from SCAD in 2000. I worked 30-35 hours a week, was 21 when I started in early 1997, never took a quarter off, helped re-usher in student organizations and government, was an unpaid Rising Star Assistant, was second student leader in charge of all clubs on campus, was founding member of the second sequential art club….bla bla bla…got mugged, almost flunked out (to many activities, work hours)…then I asked James Sturm for a letter of recommendation. Sturm, who had a solid college background and had done the traditional college route of working on the student paper as a cartoonist advised me to not go back to school and in the same breath said…”I’ll write your letter.”
I took this to mean, “real” cartoonist, just pick up a brush and do it. You are wasting time and a “LOT” (Doctor Education LOT) of money. Plus, you are never going to be a Crumb or a Kirby.
Thing is, I also had that teacher thing; I had been a camp consoler, was a Rising Star Assistant, played the teacher with friends and at most jobs. I also knew…no one (like me anyway) actually
makes money in Comics, but it seemed all these Professors had it made…I needed a graduate degree to become a professor. Comics schools were a new hot industry…a new racket. So, go back to the SF Bay and get an Art Teacher degree or learn more about making comics and still end up a teacher?
So, as the tec bubble crashed, after a summer of freelance illustration, game design and architectural drafting I was back to my Savannah schedule, including almost failing out (second time turned me into an A student) but in the very small SEQART Grad program. James and I had a rocky year (I think we are cool now…we both ended up in VT, he started CCS and I taught Comics Cartooning at Burlington College and in Corrections…before that Teaching and Med story above), but by summer 2003 I had my thesis written and self published comic done to go an MFA. First person, maybe ever to have both a BFA & MFA in Comics (I wasn’t the last…sorry to say).
Now, I went to school with some well deserved success stories. Fine folks, fine cartoonists. You find out quick, 5% of you will make it into the market, get support from the professors that is needed for that. 15% of you are hard working (sort of) and will someday make something you can hold your head up for (I think that’s me). 80%…well the other 20% wonder why you are there…the answer is to subsidies the institution (which is ripping everyone off) and your Professors (who are like any teacher pool…rotating seats of one terrible, mostly good depending on the student and a few high quality professionals). So they are there to subsidize the other 20% of students success. Luckily at SCAD most of these 80% students are subsidized by their parents.
So off you go, into comics, either for free or with massive student loans. Like almost all arts educations you have a low chance of success and success will most likely be over finite period of time. While you make your investment back? Nope. Will you find glory? Nope-Fleeting. Will you make a body of work you like and are not saddened by? 20% chance. Can the industry support you? Nope, because comics are the bottom of the arts totem pole…no matter how many times they make a billion on Jack Kirby movie without compensating his family appropriately. If you stick with it, will it keep the tradition of unaffordable health care needs, legal IP battles and loss of a home?…if you are lucky.
So why do we do it? I have done commissioned work and gone unpaid. I have taught classes for less then the expense to get there and provide materials. I make comics and give them away for free. And I actually get the business, have professional standards, have a mortgage, child, student loans…It’s because I love the process of creating. I love effecting positive change in students lives. I have a story to tell. A lesson to pass on. I love making a mistake and problem solving my way out of it. I love learning something new. I like surprises. I love comics and the classroom. I am a teacher. I am a cartoonist. It’s what I do.
In defining what work is, I consider, physical and mental acts, done at a level deserving the title professional to qualify. Yes, we would be doing it anyway. We would be problem solving with knowledge, honed skills and physical work ethics without pay. But we deserve corms action for service provided. And we deserve it far sooner then it comes. If we had it sooner, we would produce and evolve at a more efficient rate. We would be able to help drive the economy more effectively and eliminate the likelihood of being a burden on society. Exploiting us early sets in motion our potential for failure, not success, by demising our potential and truncating our careers. By fortifying our path to failure. Something one professor, Mark Kneece, once guarantied. Nostalgia for the boot straps, addicts and bitter Artists paths makes for great character stories, but terrible economic policy and inhuman ethical practices. But Art is not about community relations, reflection of a societies culture, innovation in industry, preservation of democracy, efficient communication in market sales, evolution of mental health truth to power or a harmony of form and function. Art is just a free exploration of popular beauty. Right?!
A few follow ups:
I know! How could I have more to say? Had I not exhausted all the uninteresting angles?
@Nancy & @Noah: Your welcome for my buckets of “amateurish charm.”
As to Unions: As a provisional part of the team, I quickly developed a distaste for Teacher Unions. This was after happily growing up with a union propaganda. The level of help for new teachers finding work is distressing in the face of circling the wagons around failing teachers. I understand the argument for this dynamic and it IS wishful thinking, that people just do the right thing. It’s like asking the 1% to do the right thing. I do see a potential slight difference between this and unionized arts workers. Education is there to protect the intelligence and socialization of the people in a democracy and economy…oh wait…my bad. No difference at all.
@Michael & @Nancy: As I just said, there is a role for the Arts in the economy and democracy and unionized labor and the 1% are failing here. If you spend time paying attention to popular culture, criticism, consumption habits, economics, communication, world affairs, politics ect…a pattern emerges. This of course is not news to you. Even if you are glass half full like I am, you eventually see the forest from the trees. You see the trend. And it’s not very comforting. I am big on individualism, personal responsibility, understanding your flaws, turning them into innovative strength through discovery of strengths and limiting judgment of others (so please don’t read what I say about any group or trend…or really any individual as an inditement of the totality of an individuals contribution).
Sorry, the point; I am not alone in seeing or sensing a systemic erosion of quality (quality is not singular…it is diverse, but balances form and function). We live in a society that has created a potent information delivery system which sells us the equivalent of Crack or Meth in the form culture & information so we can remain addicted to a house of cards. It’s as if we followed the lie to the edge of the Pacific and then realized, we could spin the lie and they will come to lap it up. Generation after generation. We now have a reality that through a human processing plant of modern watered down slavery practices, gentrification, assimilation, politics of fear and mass consumption of bland culture & nourishment we have amassed a consumer culture. We accept this with the illusion of value in money and wealth. Not considering how those who have their hands on power and wealth were brought up in this system and are more likely then not to have eroded problem solving skills, ethics, historical perspectives and interests beyond their own status. The system has sold us all this psychopathic perspective in an environment when diversification of ideas, problem solving, critical thought, out of the box innovations and cultural diversity are novelties referred to, but not truly valued. I often find these ideals, working in reality, in the most unlikely of places; a barista, a farm hand, a failing college student, a kid in a playground. Sometimes I hear it from higher up the rung. However, those who use it as propaganda, to sleep at night and tax deductions are often the ones we accept as the good ones. It is distressing as an medical professional, artists and teacher to see the direct links with limitations in diversity, inefficiency in education and art economics and the staggering scope of issues we face as a nation and the world. If we had a system that valued and economized Art and the education of understanding what it is communicating to us, how it is used to manipulate us, how to use it as individuals to further our voices and personal prospects, we would have keys to problem solving our economics, our democracy, our psyches, and our planet. Our culture, could benefit, but that is the last of my societal concerns. We need less talk about running things like a business…that is how we facilitated equally flawed people who make nothing possess the majority of the resources. We need less talk that sounds like circling wagons to protect the unproductive…that is how we the people become implicit in our own demise at the hands of inequitable wealth distribution. We need more informed nuance and experimental problem solving. We need more diversification of ideas and practices. We need new work ethics.
Thank goodness you all speak up here.
It’s not impossible to get paid VERY well in the arts. You just have to be a pro, BE GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO, and look for the proper opportunities. You can actually get paid a lot of money. For very little work. But flocking to a place like the Flea where everybody wants a piece doesn’t work. You have to go where other opportunities are.
I founded and run a small professional theatre company in Fort Worth, TX. We work under an SPT 3 AEA contract, which requires that we give 2 AEA contracts per production. It is our policy to pay all actors, whether they are AEA or non-union, the same. This is not because we are rolling in money. Our annual budget is $650,000. There are many months I don’t get paid and even have to kick in a little money to meet payroll. We feel that it is the quality of our artists that has given us the reputation we have for doing great work. We want the buzz in the industry to be that our company is a great place to work because artists and staff are treated with the utmost respect. How can we ask our donors to honor what we do as artists if we don’t do it ourselves? I am concerned that the arts are becoming something that only the wealthy can afford to make and to consume.
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When a company relies heavily on a company membership for volunteer work then the artistic control is in the hands of the volunteers even if the actors are the volunteers.
The only ones who seem to have a problem with it are actors who value how much they get paid over who has artistic control.
If you want to hold out for pay and not take any artistic control of your own career then don’t join a membership company and only show up at auditions that meet your minimum salary requirements.
As a journeyman artist of several mediums, I’ve seen this formula play out over and over, whether with pay-for-play band situations, photographers and journalists being offered “exposure” in lieu of money; authors told to give their books away to gain readership and, yes, actors, our millions of actors, put to work for no (negligible) pay, but rather “the thrill of the creative process” and that always-dangled carrot of exposure. Sure, it’s voluntary, but isn’t it also possible it’s becomes a case of Stockholm Syndrome?
Here in LA, the Actors Equity is pushing for what would essentially be “minimum wage,” and it’s many of the actors themselves who are pushing back against it. So fearful of losing the theaters with their opportunities to act, to produce, to be exposed, they’d rather continue their servitude than wrangle for financial fairness.
When you’re young, eager, and absolutely certain that next showcase will catapult you to stardom, it’s easy to argue that a few hundred hours of non-paid labor is justifiable. Certainly the theaters and producers count on that! But when you’ve been around the block a few times, skilled, experienced, and at the top of your game, that continued dismissal of your professional status rankles.
I’ve heard all the arguments, I’ve been on both/all sides of the divide; I understand the communal urge, but, sorry… it’s time for actors to be categorizes as a non-negotiable “cost of doing business.” If a theater charges for tickets, pays its non-performing staff, pays rent, and is spending millions (I don’t care where they got them!) to build a facility for these non-paid actors to work in, on productions that people pay to see, putting money in the pockets of… someone, then THOSE ACTORS DESERVE TO BE PAID. Period. Not stipends. Not pittances. Paid. Like the professionals they are.
Anything else is a form of creative enslavement and it needs to stop.
Jon S, I run a small modern dance company in Chicago. Dancers are often the last to get paid as well. (The only folks I know who work for free more often are improv. actors)
I think your rule of paying at least the cost of one full admission is fantastic, and the best way to set a minimum. I pay every dancer (apprentice, guest artist, whatever) the same amount for each show they do (no tiering of payment). The only difference is that for FREE community events they get paid $20 a show (I don’t get paid at all), then for festivals (I usually don’t make anything for these, either, but sometimes I get $50) they get $30, and for regular concerts (in which I collect box office) they get $40. If they perform twice in one day they get paid twice.
This is a pathetic amount of money. It’s all I can do right now. Two or three full company members (seniority based, usually) get paid $10 a rehearsal to help cover their costs and acknowledge the time they spend in rehearsal. I try to bring in snacks sometimes, and try to help my dancers get subbing and teaching gigs when I can.
I HATE that I pay tech crew and the venue so much compared to the people actually dancing in my works. I hate that musicians can always demand payment (around me, at least) and not have issues getting it. Sometimes I make a tiny profit….sometimes I break even….and sometimes I’m busting my own bank account to pay my performers (however small the amount is). But that’s the deal! If I want a dance company I need to pay the people who make it happen.
I’m still paying to rent rehearsal space, and incurring other costs too, but that’s just life for the Artistic Director of a tiny and new company. Grant funding isn’t always easy to come by, but we do fundraise to pay the dancers (generally with success).
I know so many dancers dancing for free….even for company with $50,000 budgets. Why pay your indentured servants when you can get a bigger and fancier projection system? It all drives me nuts.