I’ve made my feelings clear on this issue in the past when looking at the example of You Me Bum Bum Train; taking advantage of actors/performers by asking them to perform for free is something I don’t agree with when evidence suggests others are getting paid and making money from their work.  In situations such as that of YMBBT, I’m a strong advocate of open-book accounting – allowing everyone involved to see where the money is going, in order to ensure transparency and reassure everyone that there are no parties being treated as ‘favoured nations’ within the company.  As theatre and the performing arts can often operate on an uneven playing field – where opportunities can only afford to be taken up by those who can afford to work for no pay, be it in a performance or as an internship – we run the risk of primarily supporting those who can afford to participate, rather than those who most deserve to.

However, we shouldn’t over-simplify the debate.  There are benefits to being involved in work far beyond the financial ones – collaborating with others, developing one’s craft/skills, expanding networks and building a portfolio of work can make a huge difference with regards to the future opportunities available to someone, and we shouldn’t deprive people of these advantages by merely focusing on a sole issue.  The ruling reached last week does not simply state that every performer should be paid the National Minimum Wage – there is a differentiation made between being simply treated as an employee and being a collaborator.  If performers are contributing to the process of developing a piece of work, the relationship is different; they are invested in the piece as a whole, and have a level of ownership a simple ‘employee’ does not.

Equity, whilst campaigning against no-pay agreements, acknowledge this difference; they respect that many of their members may choose to engage in low-pay/no-pay projects for various reasons, and that many members support the work of the Fringe in this way.  Their interest is in ensuring members are not exploited, which is absolutely correct and wholly admirable – many of us who work in the arts will know of situations where people have felt exploited, and will undoubtedly stand with Equity against this.  Improbable recently hosted a Devoted and Disgruntled event looking at bullying within the arts, and the turnout and feedback suggests that as an industry we are keen to stand against bullying, exploitation and inequality.

The terminology used regarding a performer’s role in a piece seems to make a huge difference in the eyes of the legal system regarding their employment status and, subsequently, what they are entitled to; whilst YMBBT engages performers as volunteers (allowing them flexible commitment with no penalties), the production recently ruled upon advertised as a profit-share whilst – in the eyes of the judge, at least – offering an insufficient degree of collaboration, effectively leading to performers being treated as employees.  Should this ruling have the type of impact many suspect it will, clarity over terminology in agreements may well be the biggest area of change – with such a precedent seemingly being set, producers and companies may well ensure the terms under which an actor is employed are clearer in order to protect themselves from future grievances and to allow themselves to continue to work without being forced to pay NMW to all performers.

Ultimately the financial realities are that, if all Fringe productions were require to pay actors the National Minimum Wage, the quantity of work being produced would be greatly reduced.  This would then lead to a Catch 22 situation; whilst more work would pay this wage, there would be fewer opportunities to work.  The costs of producing work on the Fringe seem to be ever-increasing, with hire fees and rents going up and ticket prices subsequently increasing to try and help companies and venues recoup the cost of staging a production; to factor in increased wages would raise costs even further, to an unsustainable level for the Fringe.  And what of musical theatre on the Fringe?  This scene in itself is already much smaller than, say, the new writing scene; if a show with a large cast suddenly is required to pay everyone the NMW, then how will companies like the Union Theatre and Upstairs at the Gatehouse be able to produce high-quality work at a sustainable level?  Where will actors wishing to work in this field be able to find opportunities to do so?

Pippa Bailey’s recent blog on Fringe economics (largely related to Edinburgh, but appropriate across the industry) paints a bleak picture regarding the near-unsustainable financial level at which the scene already operates; whilst this can be partly attributed to a scene reaching saturation point, it is also reflective of a degree of exploitation on behalf of numerous parties wishing to profit from the hard work of companies and individuals wishing to create work.  It’s sad to say that a large number of people working on the Fringe are losing out financially, beyond just actors – and I myself have worked on projects where I have not been paid and even have lost my own personal investments, all the while ensuring actors are paid and treated fairly.  To me, this is the most important thing to work towards; whilst the NMW model is economically unsustainable, working towards a fairer system is an important responsibility of those producing on the Fringe – and by producing quality work, the non-financial benefits I mentioned previously can be more widely recouped.

It is in no-one’s interests within the industry to ‘kill off’ the fringe, which to me is the biggest indicator that the scene will survive; however, in order to do so efficiently we need to all work together to make a more collaborative, supportive scene.  Transparency, honesty and respect will go a long way towards achieving this.

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.

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.

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’)

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.

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.

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.

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.

One of the focus points of Scott’s blog is the Old Vic New Voices 24 Hour Plays, which she states is “a showcase, where selected young directors, producers, writers and actors get to strut their stuff on the famous stage”. Although I can understand to some extent why she may focus on the idea of it being a showcase, having taken part in the process myself I feel this does not truly reflect the purpose of the event; as Diana Damian points out in the comments section of the Guardian blog, the Old Vic New Voices version of the 24 Hour Plays places great emphasis on the process – it’s a chance for those involved to test their skills in a high-pressure environment, and to learn from working closely with their peers about creating a piece of work from scratch. Those in attendance as industry guests understand the concept and process, and are aware that the final pieces cannot fully represent the skills of those involved in the evening – but it can give glimpses of people’s ability or potential, and being selected in itself is a reflection that the participants stood out above other potential candidates for any number of reasons. Even if one were to look at the event as simply a showcase, the participants clearly must have some talent to ensure they don’t fail in delivering work with some positive points – although the audience will largely be made up of sympathetic friends and family, there is still a responsibility to entertain those who have bought a ticket.

Moving on, the article itself doesn’t seem to know what it’s really critiquing – is it performances created over a short time period, durational performances or late-night events? They’re clearly all very different things – for example, the Bush Theatre’s Sixty-Six Books has been a long time in the making, with the production having been developed over a long period and writers being commissioned to create something over a period of time considerably longer than 24 hours. The scope and ambition of such a project is something I feel should be commended for a Fringe theatre, and the volume of the King James Bible creates the issue of either abridging the books or finding a way to present all works over a longer period of time; offering the durational performance provided a solution to this issue without compromising the content, and offered an alternative form of complete engagement than asking people to commit to returning across a number of performances on different days.  The length of the performance itself may have been too much for many to last, but being aware of the length of performance at least also gave audiences the chance to steel themselves in preparation to be in it for the long haul; although Michael Billington may not have seen the full production (no doubt due to the pressures of filing deadlines), the accounts of those such as WhatsOnStage’s Honour Bayes who did endure offer a much more comprehensive account of the production – as opposed to making mention of their level of endurance as if some kind of badge of honour, which only serves to make such events feel like the ‘gimmick’ Scott accuses them of being in her blog.  Subsequently it seems that perception is everything – a complicity is requested by such pieces (as with the Nursery Festival’s improvathon, which Scott refers to later in her blog) to embrace the nature of the performance without undermining its strength and purpose as a dramatic work.

With regards to performance times, later slots may lead to different audience responses than the traditional 7:30pm slot, but audience reactions will vary for any number of reasons far beyond a time slot – what makes a midnight audience any lesser than a midweek matinee one, or one largely populated by school/college groups?  And what of festivals, with their varying time slots – should we look at them differently as they have a more committed audience, ignoring those who may be from the local community or non-regular theatre attendees who are dipping their toes into the waters? I feel the argument about performance times is far less pertinent in the context of Scott’s blog than the debate regarding performance length; there are already far too many caveats and variables involved in performance times and audience make-up which make it difficult to draw any conclusions from the examples Scott draws upon and undermines her argument against performances such as the Midnight Matinees at Shakespeare’s Globe and Tristan Bates Theatre.  Scott proclaims her suspicion is that there is not “the same level of performance and alertness from the audience” in events such as this, and that Midnight Matinees attract a younger audience, but this is all mere speculation and fails to make a strong case either way; assumptions and statements such as these are reductive and look foolhardy without any evidence to back them up.

Scott concludes her blog by suggesting that works such as those she refers to seem “a waste of everyone’s time” if done badly or pointlessly – but is that so?  Surely the experience of creating work which fails provides those involved with the opportunity to learn from the experience, with a view to improving things should there be a next time?  Moving away from the traditionally-accepted forms of theatre-making will always entail an element of risk as it challenges people’s perceptions and expectations, and challenging convention helps artists and the form itself to move forwards; dismissing such efforts as wasting people’s time either misses the point or suggests that the currently accepted format of theatre (six weeks rehearsals, 7:30pm start time, home before midnight) is without flaws – which is definitely not the case.  If people wish to continue to push things forward by working in such ways, then they have my support.

As with all big jobs, the long-list which arises from public discussion has been heavily scrutinised as much for who isn’t on it as who is; The Guardian have been running a poll of possible candidates, and the lack of women being suggested has once again raised concerns that the long-standing hegemonic perception of white males dominating such posts is far from a fallacy.  Although there are suggestions that the white male isn’t as prevalent as he once was – see the Donmar appointing Josie Rourke, the Bush appointing Madani Younis and Roxana Silbert taking over the Birmingham REP for examples – the so-called ‘big’ jobs seem to be a closed shop in some respects; perhaps due to what companies are looking for, or maybe due to people not applying as they don’t consider themselves to be in with a shot of getting the jobs.

However, another barrier may be the perception that such posts are almost always going to directors.  It seems ingrained that directors are the people to run buildings, but is unfairly suggesting that candidates from other disciplines need not apply?  What is to say a writer couldn’t do as good a job of running a company?  Put simply, directing a production and running a building are two very different things – although parallels can be drawn between the two roles, with Executive Directors, General Managers and Producers now taking on the vast majority of the day-to-day responsibilities of company management, does the role of an Artistic Director focus more now on an artistic/creative policy which could be delivered by candidates from a wider field?  Mark Ravenhill has been promoting his case for the RSC job in a slightly tongue-in-cheek manner on Twitter by aiming to hijack the Guardian poll – and although maybe the complexities of this particular job wouldn’t see him considered, I feel the lack of writers running established companies needs further scrutiny.

There are plenty of examples of writers successfully running large companies, and in turn providing a much clearer sense of artistic identity to a company through being loyal to a particular vision.  Perhaps the most obvious example comes in the shape of Alan Ayckbourn and the Stephen Joseph Theatre – the appointment of one of Britain’s most eminent contemporary playwrights as their permanent Artistic Director (moving away from their previous annual appointments following the death of Stephen Joseph) proved to be a masterstroke by the company, allowing them to premiere a number of Ayckbourn works which in turn drew audiences to Scarborough from much further afield than may previously have considered conceivable.  Furthermore, the presence of Ayckbourn has also led to the National Student Drama Festival calling Scarborough its home since 1990 – bringing emerging artists, students, professionals and academics to the town and leading to increased investment in the local economy.

Other examples perhaps lend more credence to the concept of an Artistic Director as an auteur – during David Farr’s career as an Artistic Director, his time at the Lyric Hammersmith in particular saw the work produced have a particularly strong visual aesthetic; the production of Kafka’s Metamorphosis (which he adapted and directed) is a clear example of this.  Chris Goode’s work with Camden People’s Theatre helped raise the profile of the venue and established a clear sense of the work they were interested in producing and programming, which in turn provided the support of other companies and venues which helped to support Goode’s own professional development.  Even further afield, the appointment of Britain’s Kwame Kwei-Armah at Baltimore’s Centrestage shows that big companies can recognise the potential of those from a writing background to help shape a company’s identity – Kwei-Armah has already announced plans for 50% of the company’s work to be new commissions.

It is perhaps a misnomer to refer to the above examples as simply ‘writers’, when they all have also established themselves at least to some extent as successful directors; however, their background in writing can begin to pave the way for those solely identified as writers to begin to apply for these jobs.  In order to open the application process more, perhaps the role of the Artistic Director needs to be redefined or even ‘reclaimed’ – focusing on its importance as a creative leader of an organisation and the person who drives its artistic agenda, rather than the person who directs most of its shows.  As mentioned previously, company structures now also offer support in the business elements which may put off some candidates – so candidates from more diverse professional backgrounds should be encouraged to apply to ensure an increased likelihood in appointing the ‘best person for the job’.

The example of the RSC is perhaps a slightly different case to those suggested above due to the focus on Shakespeare’s canon of work; in that respect at least, perhaps the company is best led by a director who can programme and present the work in a way which appeals to a contemporary audience.  That being said, with the company commissioning an increasing amount of new writing there is also a need for someone to have a good handle on how to package this work alongside the classical canon; the two shouldn’t be mutually exclusive, as there is an expectation of a certain quality of any work under the RSC banner.  Roxana Silbert has played a large role in leading the RSC’s programme of new writing since her appointment as Associate Director – largely influenced by her history of supporting new work at Paines Plough and the Traverse Theatre – but it is important that this work doesn’t sit outside the main programme of work, thus depriving it of the profile and support it should deserve; the RSC’s website states that the company was founded on a belief that “new writing was as important an element as Shakespeare”, but it stills fails to draw the same profile and audiences as the work from the classical canon.

It is reassuring to see a number of recent Artistic Director appointments coming from a pool of directors who truly understand and champion the cause of new writing – Steve Marmion at Soho Theatre and Orla O’Loughlin at the Traverse Theatre being some examples; perhaps in time perceptions of the role of an Artistic Director may change and writers themselves will feel confident to follow in their footsteps and throw their hats into the ring, drawing on their craft and understanding of the new writing scene to breathe fresh life into companies in need of a change.