How do you solve a problem like Maria?

Maria Miller has apparently declared war against the arts world.  The past couple of weeks have seen key figures in the arts come out and challenge the new Culture Secretary, and after initially putting the barriers up she has now come out fighting against allegations that she – and, by extension, the government – are abandoning the arts in a time of need.  With her Twitter dialogue with Mark Shenton and an editorial in the Evening Standard in recent days – following on from Charlotte Higgins blog for the Guardian accusing her of stonewalling the press and the arts community regarding how engaged she is – it appears Miller has finally decided to make her presence felt, with Culture Minister Ed Vaizey also writing to The Stage to defend government policy.  Maria Miller’s recent language has been confrontational and defensive – but are the arts community being fair by personally targeting her, or does her lack of engagement justify the broadsides?

 

After Jeremy Hunt’s tenure as Culture Secretary, there was little evidence that his pleas to encourage greater philanthropy towards the arts had borne any real results; beyond large-scale cases such as the renaming of the Cottesloe Theatre at the National Theatre in recognition of Lloyd Dorfman’s £10m donation, there seem to be few examples of investment from private giving making up for the shortfall in public subsidy.  Whilst many industries have needed to wean themselves off reliance on public money in the wake of widespread cuts, there seemed to be very little leadership from government and public officials in helping the arts make this transition – and with so many people in different industries trying to compete for this private funding, such a sudden change in mentalities towards asking for this money needed guidance that was not forthcoming.  In an early statement during her tenure, Maria Miller stated that the arts needed to get better at “asking, not just receiving” – but such a statement simplifies the reality of doing so, and seems to misguidedly suggest that getting the money is as easy as just asking the right people.

 

As anyone who has ever tried to fundraise knows, it is not as simple as just looking through The Sunday Times’ Rich List, picking someone out, contacting them and waiting for the money to start rolling in; the right people need to be identified in order to make an appropriate approach, and considerations of possible conflicts with other recipients of support and what the money is used for mean that an initially large pool of potential donors can reduce significantly.  The planning and preparation to make such asks is incredibly time-consuming, particularly if the contacts to make the ask don’t already exist; there has been a visible increase in the size and number of specialised development departments within organisations since the announcement of cuts to RFOs/NPOs over the past few years, and many larger organisations have turned to those from the private sector to help lead these teams and to benefit from their existing contacts.  Even commercial theatre – often so reliant on ‘angel’ investors – has been finding things increasingly difficult; what is often forgotten in the push to promote private investment is that many people’s own finances have been directly affected by the economic downturn, and so we are seeing an inversely proportional relationship between the money available and the number of people asking for it.

 

With all this considered, it seems understandable that the arts community will feel like they are getting a rough deal; when looking for leadership from the government, they have found their lips as tight as their purse-strings.  What seems particularly galling to many is that the positivity generated from the Olympics extended itself to the arts, with Danny Boyle’s opening ceremony being largely well-received and providing a platform for the arts to make their case for continued support; now that the initial celebrations of Britain’s artistic diversity has died down, it seems we are back once again to the usual questions being asked of its ‘value’.  Statements regarding the amount of money the arts generates for the economy have often been disregarded in favour of merely talking about their cost – and arguments have fallen on deaf ears as Maria Miller continued to avoid tough questions and remain invisible up to this point her tenure.

 

I think it’s fair in some respects to defend Miller; she is a dual portfolio holder (also being Minister for Women and Equalities) whereas predecessors such as Jeremy Hunt and Andy Burnham only held one role.  Spreading a minister so thinly across two roles – and particularly two with such broad briefs – is undoubtedly a difficult task, particularly during a time where there are audible murmurs of discontent regarding issues related to both posts.  In many respects, effectively appointing a part-time minister is an indication of how important this current government consider the department.  However, Miller done herself no favours; whilst she may not have previously engaged much with the arts, she seems to be making no effort to do so now she is in post.  Previous Culture Secretaries have very visibly increased their engagement with the arts once taking on the post, but Miller has either not done so or is rather bizarrely trying to hide what she’s done – when interviewed by The Guardian’s Aida Edemariam, a question regarding what she had attended was interrupted by a special advisor stating the question had already been refused, before Miller eventually replied that she had attended The Promise and Benedict Andrews’ Three Sisters (although even then she said it was at the New Vic, rather than the Young Vic).  Having been in post since early September, it is disconcerting that she needs to be prompted to mention things she has seen – and positively terrifying that a question about it would be refused.

 

On Tuesday 20^th November, a reception was held by Ed Vaizey and Frances Osborne (wife of Chancellor George Osborne) at 11 Downing Street, to ‘celebrate British theatre’; Vaizey spoke of recognising “the importance of what we call the subsidised theatre in supporting the West End”, a statement endorsed to some extent by SOLT President Mark Rubenstein and TMA President Rachel Tackley.  The following day, Newcastle City Council announced that plans were being considered to cut all funding to arts organisations in the city – Newcastle itself being a place praised by Vaizey in 2011 for working to support the arts in the face of widespread cuts.  For all the receptions and public statements being made about support for the arts, the fact of the matter is that actual support is not forthcoming from those overseeing policy – and all the while our community is expected to ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’.  For many, simply the chance to engage in a dialogue with the likes of Miller and Vaizey would make a huge difference; rather than stonewalling arts leaders and dealing in sound-bites, an indication that there is an intention to engage would at least be a step in the right direction towards a more self-sustaining industry.  No such engagement seems to be forthcoming, and for all the interviews and editorials actions speak louder than words – even those as barbed as Maria Miller’s.

Risking Together – Developing work in a regional setting

Working in a regional setting can often be a difficult scenario for artists; with so much focus on London within the arts, it can feel like there is a lack of support and resources for those who are not working in the capital.  But with the arts scenes in these areas being potentially less competitive and saturated, should we be doing more to support the development of regional work?

 

Parabola Arts Centre in Cheltenham recently hosted Risking Together, an event aimed at generating discussion regarding the challenges of developing contemporary work in regional settings.  Having recently moved from London to the South West I attended with a vested interest; there is a discernable difference between the ecology of work being created and discussed in Plymouth and London, and there definitely feels a need for discussion to provoke action in order to encourage the development of work in such settings.  With provocations centred on the development of work, touring from regional bases and finding audiences in regional settings – and with attendees drawn from across the UK – the potential existed for serious debate to be had in order to encourage action which would support artists in these settings.

 

There is undoubtedly a draw to relocating to major cities – and London in particular – when intending to develop networks and to immerse one’s self in a broad spectrum of work; the larger a city, and the greater the investment in its cultural offer, the more there is for an arts community to engage with.  Within regional settings there are a number of cities which do offer a great deal to their regions – from the ever-growing arts scene in Bristol to the new developments such as The Lowry in Salford and Leicester’s Curve Theatre, there are growing resources to those in more far-flung corners of the map.  However, what of rural communities – is enough being invested in these communities to support artists development, or are we seeing a greater focus on the idea of venues becoming hubs to whole regions?  In turn, if venues are talking to and supporting each other less in regional settings, do we run the risk of seeing smaller rural venues and companies going to the wall?

 

Much of the focus of Risking Together was on the idea of risk-taking in a regional context.  As there are often more limited resources in smaller regional settings, there is in some respects a need for artists to take personal (often financial) risks in order to create their work – a risk which often seems greater due to there being less of a support network or safety net should this fail.  However, resources aside we should be encouraging arts communities within these setting to support each other as much as possible in order to aid the development of work – by developing strong arts communities in regional settings a wider ecology of voices can develop, who can offer reciprocal support in the development of work.  Much has been made of the idea of resource-sharing in light of the swathe of recent funding cuts, and this is particularly important in regional settings – with resources and money being even more thinly spread, sharing will not only help artists create work but will also help strengthen the sense of community between these artists.  At present, it seems artists and companies do a good job of avoiding the risk of seeing others as ‘competition’ when creating work and applying for funding; we should strive to ensure things remain this way, or else we run the risk of not supporting artists throughout their development as we instead focus on immediate results and valuing the arts on a set of specific criteria.

 

There is an increasing trend for venues to offer space for companies to present works-in-progress at scratch nights, which can be a vital element in supporting the development of new work.  In regional settings this can be hugely vital in allowing work to reach its full potential; where performance spaces may be limited, it reduces the pressure on artists to present work as ‘finished’ pieces, and allows them the opportunity to try ideas out in a more public setting and to gauge whether or not they can be further developed or abandoned.  Work should be allowed to grow naturally in the time it needs, rather than putting pressure on artists to present work within an expected time-frame – if we impose time restrictions on work which is already being developed within a number of other perceived restrictions, then we risk stifling the creative risk-taking which many artists need in order to develop their practice.  With many regions also seeing a lack of critics in attendance – particularly from national outlets, whose regional presence is ever-dwindling – this also helps open a critical dialogue around their work which may be less present with full performances.  The need to open the critical dialogue with audiences, artists and critics is vital for the development of work at any stage, regardless of the setting; creating an environment where audiences are encouraged to become a part of this feels to me like an important concept which regional venues and companies should seek to expand upon.

 

Whilst focusing on regional work, we should also consider how the regions are connected to each other; we need to avoid insularity when creating work, particularly when thinking about possible touring.  Regional communities will often have their own existing audiences, and venues should be willing to share their knowledge of these audiences to companies wishing to tour to them; when visiting an area you have no personal knowledge or experience of, it is vital that those with this knowledge are willing to share.  Artists touring often do so a great financial risk to themselves, particularly in the early stages of their careers – the more we can reduce the risk to them through supporting them, the more inclined they may be to tour.  If we encourage and support touring, then we help increase the ecology of work being created until artists can become self-sustaining – and who can then in turn support other artists who wish to develop and tour work.  In addition, we should also seek to find ways in which different regions can become more connected; although there are obvious physical barriers between opposite corners of the British Isles, we are more connected than ever through the internet to the extent that we can increase dialogue between regions.  Initiatives such as House in the South and Black Country Touring in the West Midlands exist to support both artists and venues within their regions with touring and receiving work, and provide templates for successful models of work which could be rolled out across the UK; their support can free up artists to spend more time creating work and less time at a desk, which can be liberating to artists with limited time and resources.

 

A key element to supporting the development of contemporary regional work is the need for open channels of communication between artists, venues and stakeholders; there needs to be the potential for established and perceived notions of how things are done to be challenged, and we need to support those who wish to take risks where there are potential benefits.  As we increase dialogue between all parties we create a sense that work is being encouraged to develop and flourish – which will help create much stronger regional networks, and will in turn provide artists with more resources to help them create work which excites and challenges those who engage with it.

You Me Bum Bum Train – a bum deal for performers?

Upon its return to the London scene as part of the London 2012 festival, You Me Bum Bum Train has again found itself being questioned about its reliance on large numbers of unpaid volunteers.  According to The Guardian, Equity is considering taking legal action against the company on the grounds that cast and crew are unpaid for a show which charges £20 a ticket.  But is the situation as black-and-white as it appears?

I’ll open by stating that – with regards to my own practice as a producer – I feel wholly uncomfortable asking anyone to work for free.  Although I may be frequently working on the Fringe level where money is tight, I’m always keen to ensure everyone is paid something – although it may not necessarily be feasible to offer Equity rates, I feel the gesture of paying a fee acts as a recognition of the time and talent offered by those involved in a production, and allows both parties to enter into an agreement which validates a professional relationship.  In the early days of my producing career I have been engaged in projects where offering pay has not been possible – but I was always keen to ensure that something was offered so that appreciation was shown for those involved – particularly important for building long-term relationships with artists, looking forward to a time where they could be paid a rate reflective of their worth.  Also, most importantly – and perhaps most foolishly considering my frequent financial woes – I always prioritise paying other creatives over myself; the onus is on me as a producer to raise the funds necessary to stage a production, and thus there is incentive to put my pay as one of the final budget lines in order to push myself to raise the maximum funds possible.

Taking my own views regarding the paying of artists into consideration, I can’t help but take issue with You Me Bum Bum Train – a company who not only have enjoyed numerous sell-out runs at prices far beyond what is charged for my own work, but who have also received funding beyond the levels which I have ever received (at least £40k in 2010).  Morally-speaking, I’d feel hugely uncomfortable asking people to be the core of a production without being paid knowing how much money was coming in to stage it; I’m aware that there are huge costs to meet regarding the physical production of the show, but if they don’t have the full amount of money available then should they scale back their ideas – or simply not do the show until they are able to with the right money?  Being generous I could understand to some extent the reliance on volunteers in the production’s early outings, but to still be using so many at this stage suggests that no effort has been made to make the production self-sustaining – I would at least hope that plans would have been in place to allow participants to be paid once the show was ‘making’ money.  If the company had perhaps drawn up a recoupment schedule (as with most West End shows), then they may have been able to get an idea of how long it may take the show to make its money back, and then to plan a fairer distribution of funds throughout the company.

And it doesn’t all come down to money.  With regards to the number of performers involved, I have a number of friends trying to forge a career as actors who have taken part in YMBBT, as having the credit for such a successful show seems like a good thing to have on one’s CV; however, with so many people taking part, is the credit devalued?  Friends have told me that, upon taking part, they have felt like their work has not been truly appreciated, which has been hugely disappointing to them and demoralising – not offering what they wanted and, in some respects, actually putting them off the idea of being involved in something similar again.  With such huge reliance on volunteers across the production – beyond just performers – the responsibility becomes increasingly on those volunteers to support and motivate each other; consider this alongside the notion that volunteers can quit whenever they please, and there is a great amount of risk in the artistic team being so removed should this relationship fail.

All this being said, though – I am aware that I am looking at this from a particular perspective.  For every friend who has shared with me a negative anecdote, I have heard through others of people who have massively enjoyed the experience.  And, in light of the numerous positive reviews the show has received, it seems somewhat idealistic of me to suggest that the show shouldn’t have taken place without the proper funds.  I come at this issue very much from an outsider’s perspective – relying on second-hand accounts and my own feelings about the working model of the company to shape my opinions regarding whether or not I believe they are being exploitative of others.  And, if I am to take such a strong stance against YMBBT, then should I not also take a similar stance against events such as Secret Cinema and even the London 2012 Olympics opening ceremony?  These are also events which rely on volunteers to go ahead, whilst charging the public to attend.

There is also a lot to be said for the fact that YMBBT has challenged the notion of audience in a way rarely seen at this scale.  Rather than be bound by the traditional performer/audience dichotomy, YMBBT effectively fuses the two together – people can take part in the production as a means of seeing it, and through that role they then perform for an audience of one who has paid for a ticket.  In some respects, YMBBT is the ultimate audience participation event – offering its audience the opportunity to be part of a huge spectacle which would keep them very much at arm’s length.  This in itself provides excellent opportunities for audience development – the word spreads about the production much more effectively than if only performed by ‘professional’ actors, and both the demand for tickets and the reputation of the production increases.  With the show only being performed to an ‘audience’ of one, YMBBT is constantly referred to as a ‘hot ticket’.

This then brings us back to our original issue – if the show is in such demand and is enjoying such great success, then why are people not being paid to take part?  Ultimately, our problems lies with the company’s lack of transparency; when questioned about this issue the argument always is made that the production costs are great for a show of this scale, but as yet these figures do not appear to have been published – whilst this is the case, people will continue to ask the questions about where the money is going.  I doubt anyone believes that Morgan Lloyd and Kate Bond are pocketing the profits and sitting on piles of cash in their mansions, and it is obvious that staging such a production is going to cost a lot of money – but I truly believe it would be in their best interests to explain how the books are being balanced.  At present, the effects of cuts to arts funding are beginning to be seen and thus greater attention is being paid to how money is spent by the industry; whilst the numbers don’t appear to add up to people, then YMBBT will continue to be under close scrutiny and will face animosity from other sections of the industry.

I’ve previously discussed on this blog the case of The Cock Tavern, and the apparent unfair distribution of funds from La Bohème; the biggest problem they encountered over the issue was of their own making, namely their appalling approach to public relations.  Thus far, the company have yet to reveal any actual accounts relating to the production, instead mentioning how much it would cost to pay everyone Equity rates and saying how expensive the show is to stage.  Unfortunately, such an approach is going to do little to satisfy those asking the questions, and instead leaves them open to criticism should any information leak out of context – a budget has already been leaked online (in the form of a Google Doc) which suggests that a number of people are being pad whilst cast are not.  With this not being a complete budget (and with the amounts of pay blanked out) it is impossible to put the spending in context of the whole production’s costs – but it is enough information for the company’s critics to use against them.

I shall always be idealistic about the idea of paying all people involved in a production, and as such I shall continue to have an issue with YMBBT – but I am also willing to allow the company right of reply and to be open-minded enough to accept that there are some reasons which may offset the unpaid nature of the work against the benefits it brings, both to participants and to the arts through its innovation and successes.  Unfortunately, I fear that Morgan Lloyd and Kate Bond will continue to be unmoved by these requests – and so I hope they are accepting of the criticism they will receive because of this stance.

For further reading on this issue, then I’d advise you to check out the following blog posts:

Marcus Romer (concerning the moral concerns of using unpaid performers)

Matt Trueman (further exploring the idea of unpaid performers being an ‘audience’)

Falling Headlong – and how we can make theatre trailers work

Headlong recently released the trailer for their upcoming season; a glitzy, sharp looking affair which is in many people’s eyes a piece of art in itself.  However, within all the fanfare regarding its high production values has been a sense that the trailer has been embraced as some type of cause celebré as far as theatre’s relationship with social media is concerned.  Is this fair on Headlong, and does this undermine what they are trying to achieve?

Published on YouTube, Headlong’s trailer runs at a little under five minutes and aims to give us a sense of each upcoming production in their new season; from the sharp-suited self-harmer representing American Psycho: The Musical to the recreation of the Tiananmen Square protests with a model tank for Chimerica, we are given brief glimpses of what to expect each production whilst not giving too much away – tantalising us with the desire to know more.  As with the best movie trailers, we are left wanting to know more about the production(s) without feeling like we’ve seen the ‘best bits’.

Despite suggestions to the contrary, theatre trailers are not something new; they’ve been in existence for some time, in various different forms.  As everyday use of social media has provided a greater sense of connectivity, theatre companies and venues have tried to embrace this and have produced trailers at various scales, and in various forms.  The vast majority of West End and Broadway shows have some form of electronic press kit (EPK) available online, including a glitzy YouTube trailer featuring extracts from the production and – if the show has already opened – talking heads of audience members saying how much they enjoyed the show; even Fringe productions with a small marketing budget can put together a trailer quickly and easily which can be uploaded to YouTube to help increase the reach of their production.  Beyond the content, there is also a need to deliver the trailer in a way which allows people to learn more about your work; Chris Unitt has posted a great blog on how Headlong have failed to do this, which is well worth a read.

However, part of the reason their trailer stands apart from others is that it can be viewed as a piece of art in its own right, which in itself is not a new concept for theatre trailers but is an area where Headlong have been able to progress the form further; the production values and the obvious time, money and expertise which have gone into the trailer help set it apart from its contemporaries within the subsidised world.  The production values seem almost equal to those of the EPKs for commercial productions, whilst retaining the apparent artistic integrity which many feel that world lacks; the level of thought and detail which has gone into the trailer should protect the company from any accusations of ‘selling-out’.  Crucially, audiences will tend to associate the quality of the trailer with the quality of the final product – hence the strong positive reactions to Headlong’s trailer.

Theatrical trailers should, in reality, be subject to the same considerations we make of movie trailers; they have the same modus operandi of trying to sell something to an audience, and equally they should serve to tease the audience into wanting to see the final product rather than giving too much away.  One accusation levelled at trailers for big-budget films is that, all-too-frequently, the ‘best bits’ and big set-plays are revealed in the trailers – the trailer for The Cabin in the Woods was recently accused of revealing a key plot twist, making it a ‘spoiler’ for the film itself and potentially putting people off seeing the full film.  Should a theatrical trailer reveal too much about the show’s content, then that may also serve to put people off – not only because they may feel like they have seen enough already, but also because theatre has a tendency to be poorly represented when filmed.  As theatre relies less on overloading the senses than cinema does, the audio/visual aspects of a production will undoubtedly translate less well to film – and without being in the context of the space a show is performed in, the design will most likely have much less of an impact on an audience.

As can be seen above, to suggest Headlong are venturing into uncharted territory by creating a trailer and promoting it through social media is a fool’s errand; where they have stepped away from the pack is in the production values.  In terms of the ‘message’ of the trailer, how we measure its success and failure is reaching an audience is a far more pertinent question.

With Headlong Artistic Director Rupert Goold taking lead on the trailer, it also ensures that considered artistic decisions are made regarding its content which pay full respect to the individual works of each writer involved with the productions; as the person who oversees the whole creative vision of the company, Goold has an understanding of what their work is trying to achieve and ensures this is a motivating factor in a trailer – rather than falling into the trap of finding the most controversial, provocative or safe ideas across the whole spectrum of work which boils things down to an oversimplified idea.  Although for the technical aspects it may be understandable for a theatre company to look to work with a director specialising in film, having someone with a key dramaturgical understanding of the work is crucial to accurately representing the work.  Audiences who see a trailer which doesn’t reflect the final product will feel defrauded, and alienating audiences in this way serves only to undermine the importance of a trailer – prioritising short-term audience ‘capture’ over long-term development.

The biggest concern with regards to the reaction to this trailer is the insinuation that Headlong are obsessed with trying to reach ‘the Facebook generation’.  Without having said anything of the sort themselves, the company have in effect been accused of being obsessed with the demographic both largely representative of social media users and which theatres wish to bring through their doors – those aged 18-25 with disposable income and who will hopefully form long-term relationships with theatre.  For various reasons, subsidised theatre seems to have failed to truly connect with that generation in a way which ensures continued engagement and attendance, and the pressure from various quarters to succeed seems only to undermine any attempts to do so – see the fall-out from the abandoning of A Night Less Ordinary scheme as evidence of this; in the meantime, commercial theatre seems to have enjoyed much greater success, with the likes of Wicked amassing huge numbers of Facebook fans through clever use of online content.  It may well be that Headlong’s high production values in their trailer helps them to connect with this audience, but it would be unfair to put pressure on them to succeed which they haven’t invited; as with a company’s theatrical work, they should be allowed to be innovative without being burdened with unrealistically high expectations or the pressures of an expectant industry.

Whether or not Headlong’s trailer reaches large numbers of people through social media remains to be seen; however, it is not the be-all and end-all with regards to what they are trying to achieve.  Being realistic about the potential of a theatrical trailer in reaching an audience is vital to both improving the form and understanding how best to reach even further, but without necessarily having to rely on one company to lead the way.

Nurturing the blogging community (A response to Jake Orr)

A couple of weeks ago Jake Orr at A Younger Theatre asked why the UK theatre blogging community have fallen so silent – and referred to my own blog when pointing out the lack of consistency in posting.  It’s only fair that I offer up my own personal reasons for a lack of consistency – some of which I imagine also apply to other blog writers.

Firstly, I should point out that blogging is at present merely something I do alongside my primary line of work – that of a theatre producer.  I choose to write for pleasure rather than profit, and the act of writing blogs is something I feel can help to support my other practices by engaging in critical dialogue with various points of culture and potentially stimulating debate and thought around the work I engage with; there are huge benefits to me in writing which are not to do with financial gain.  However, this also means that writing continuously is not financially sustainable for me; I have to focus on my other work to remain solvent, and the more time I spend earning money the less I have to write.

Time becomes a huge issue for me at various points; at the very point Jake wrote his blog, I was about to set off on a tour across the British Isles and – even though I was keen to write a response quickly – I didn’t have any real free time to spend on anything outside my producing work.  Since the turn of the new year, I have found myself increasingly busy with producing work which has been fantastic – but which has also meant I haven’t had a great deal of time to spend on blogging.  In itself this isn’t necessarily a problem, as sometimes writing about certain topics and issues comes easily due to my passion for them – but quite often the time needed to really flesh out a blog or ideas isn’t available to me.  As with anyone with a perfectionist streak to them, I’m not keen on putting something out I’m not particularly happy with; I have plenty of blogs which I have started and not published for that very reason.

Even if there is time available to me, that’s not to say there’s going to be something I care strongly enough about to write about.  Again referring back to the concept of writing for pleasure, I’m under no pressure or obligations to write to a certain frequency or about certain issues – although in my mind I have an idea of how consistent I would like to be with my writing, I do not have anyone breathing down my neck to ensure I’m delivering ‘on deadline’.  At a point where I’m still honing my writing style, I feel my energies are better focused on quality rather than quantity; I’d rather post an in-depth 2000-word blog entry every three weeks, rather than post a 200-word one every week which only scratches the surface of the issue I’m addressing.  It may well be that, in time, I’m able to encapsulate ideas in a briefer form than I do currently – but I’m under no obligation to do so at this time.

From reading other blogs, in some ways I feel other writers have a greater impact by writing less frequently; rather than diluting their output, they write when they feel moved to do so and that passion is clear within their writing.  As linked to in Jake’s original article, the entries by Dan Rebellato and Dan Bye clearly come from the heart and are fuelled by a sense that these are issues which need to be raised – should they have come during a spell of consistent writing, then perhaps their impact would have been less effective?

With regards to content, it’s perhaps interesting to consider the writing coming from those who self-identify as artists first and foremost; the initial starting point of their writing comes from a place directly invested in the art, and informed by practice.  Of course, there are plenty of examples of writers who identify themselves more clearly as theatre writers or critics – but perhaps their positioning on the outside of theatre-making processes provides them with a different perspective which means their writing is read in a different way?  Perception of the writer’s background could have as much to do with this as the content of their writing; I’m aware that I certainly read articles and blogs differently if I’m aware the writer is a theatre maker, as I almost subconsciously connect their writing to what I know of their work and processes.  In this regard, it is interesting to learn that theatre writers are beginning to spend time in rehearsal rooms – such as Maddy Costa working with Chris Goode and Jake Orr with Dirty Market Theatre – which may help to break down barriers between the two fields, and hopefully will help to create more open dialogue and a greater diversity in theatre writing.  By writing more about process, it may help to encourage artists to write about their process and to add to the community already in existence.

Beyond content, there is also the question of style.  I personally find long-form writing such as that of Chris Goode’s blog and Exuent Magazine’s essays to be fascinating and engaging, as I feel it allows a greater analysis of issues to form and for ideas to not be condensed; however, these writings seem to exist in places where the word-count limitations of many popular platforms (such as The Guardian’s Theatre Blog) do not restrict.  As anyone with any experience of academic study will tell you, writing to a word count is always a challenge and often compromises the quality and clarity of the message you are trying to convey; a writer may find themselves having to cut out things of value to make a piece fit, or may need to flesh out work with filler material which lessens the impact of the stronger content.  Being able to write to a word count without compromising quality is a skill which needs to be developed and honed over time, and in some respects this is something I hope to achieve – but only through first being able to write in the form and style which I choose to, and allowing my work to develop naturally.  If I’m being required to write to a consistent time-line, then I may be less inclined to write at all.

To me, the blogging community I exist within is something I believe relies on self-perpetuation; by writing about things we provoke others to respond, which in turn inspires them to write again and add to the ecology of voices around the art we create.  As with all forms of creative output, there is inevitably a need to experiment and invigorate the medium  – and provided there are people out there willing to try new things both in theatre making and theatre writing, then hopefully there will be a consistency and diversity in the blogging and writing community to recognise that.

Producing Equality

Originally written for ArtsProfessional

I’ve recently been swamped with work for a new company I’m working with as producer.  The reasons for the company existing and the sense of excitement and community within the company are invigorating, but in many respects I’d rather the company didn’t need to exist; the fact that it does suggests there are serious issues of inequality within the theatre industry which have yet to be properly addressed.

Agent 160 Theatre Company came to be due to the lack of opportunities for female playwrights to see their work produced; Sphinx Theatre’s ‘Vamps, Vixens and Feminists’ conference in 2009 revealed that just 17% plays professionally produced in British theatre were by female writers.  Quite why the number is so low is open to interpretation and could be affected by a number of different factors; however, there has clearly been a real lack of addressing this and trying to encourage change in perceptions.  Writers’ work should be judged and produced on its own merits, and in keeping with artistic policies of companies and venues; if anyone is guilty of adding additional, unwritten caveats regarding gender then this is a damning indictment of their supposed professionalism.

I personally find it absurd that gender should play any part in an artist’s professional development.  Within my work I have met and worked with some exceptionally talented and hard-working female artists across various disciplines, but at no point have I felt their gender has had any effect on how myself or my peers treat them or their work; should this be happening at any level then it disappoints me greatly, and as a male it worries me that my own professionalism may be called into question due to the actions of others purely on a gender basis.  There is undoubtedly a sense that the patriarchal system is alive and well in the upper reaches, and that may affect opportunities as people climb the ladder – but sincerely hope time will see the make-up of those in the upper-echelons will change to be more representative of the industry and society as a whole.

For now, though, companies such as Agent 160 will do what we can to help promote the work of those who deserve to be seen.  As we prepare to launch, there is definitely a sense that people recognise what we are doing is sadly necessary.

2012 – It’s Not All Doom and Gloom

So, welcome to 2012 – if you believe the fear-mongers, it’s the year the arts in Britain will come to an end.  Perhaps the Mayan prophecy was just misinterpreted, and instead of the actual end of days we’re looking at an arts apocalypse?

Well, if you ask me it’s not all doom and gloom.  Yes, there are things happening this year which will bring about their own set of negative repercussions – be it the impact of funding cuts really beginning to take hold or the Olympics supposedly seeing West End theatres struggling to fill seats – but this should not be the time for introspection and negativity; instead the arts need to respond in a positive way and show the world just how important they are to this country.

This isn’t the first time in recent history that the arts have seen funding slashed and support harder to come by, but we as a community shouldn’t be burdened with an over-reliance on securing money and resources to create work.  The growing pop-up and DIY movements show there are large numbers of artists who are determined to work together to ensure that exciting and experimental work continues to be made – and as such work is made, others can be encouraged to follow.  As with any community in times of crisis, we can either pull together or pull away from each other – one path can lead to reward, and the other to ruin.

Witnessing the continuing growth of companies such as Forest Fringe, venues such as Stoke Newington International Airport and communities such as the burgeoning arts scene in Bristol should fill us of all passionate about the arts with hope; they continue to face any challenges with a sense of purpose and a determination to ensure both participants and audiences can continue to benefit from their work.  Creating wider networks helps share ideas and provides inspiration to keep working – the power of the internet and events such as Improbable’s Devoted and Disgruntled and Pilot Theatre’s Shift Happens mean we continue to be connected to one another and do not have to be restricted to geographical boundaries when it comes to collaborating.

With regards to the Olympic conundrum, I feel this presents a perfect opportunity for regional theatre to thrive.  The theatre industry can be notoriously London-centric, and should theatres go dark and see a potential downturn in attendance figures in the capital then regional theatre can fill the gap in provisions – contrary to popular belief, the theatre-going public will not all disappear this summer.  If people are willing to travel to London to see a show, then why shouldn’t they be encouraged to travel elsewhere?  Here is an opportunity for regional theatre to stand up and show people just what fantastic work it is creating, and I sincerely hope it takes up the challenge.

And there’s nothing to say that the West End is going to suffer.  The bright lights and big shows will continue to be a draw to tourists, and shows such as Matilda, One Man, Two Guvnors and Clybourne Park have proved that audiences will see new shows in the West End; there is no need to assume that only the Phantoms and Wickeds of the world will bring people in.  The barrier of high ticket prices still continues to discourage many from attending – which, to producers’ defence, may be a by-product of high rent costs – but perhaps short-term reductions will be rewarded with fuller houses, and subsequently higher income rather than losses?

So, let’s not get dragged down by the nay-sayers and harbingers of doom this year – let us all stand up for what we believe in and continue to be proud to be a part of the arts in 2012.  In this Olympic year, let’s pick up the torch and run with it.