Day 359…
Michael has another audition to film this morning, so the living room is, again, being converted into a television studio. When filming gets underway, I will get out of his way.
It is a clear and seemingly perfect day outside although after a few warmer days, it’s extremely cold again.
379,000 jobs were added to the economy last month. The unemployment rate is now at about 6.2%.
Weirdly, I don’t think that Michael and I are counted in that number. Because we have not been actively looking for a job since our industry has been put on hold, we are not necessarily being considered part of the unemployed. The unemployment insurance and stimulus payments coming our way are not regular unemployment payments. They aren’t coming from the same funds. Even though Michael is working on and off, his unemployment payments between his gigs are also not regular payments.
A far more telling statistic is that while our unemployment numbers as published are not all that different from where they were last year, we are 9.5 million jobs down from where we were at this same date a year ago. That number is where Michael and I are being counted.
This kind of creative accounting makes things look better than they are. It also allows the members of our entire industry, and what we are all experiencing, to be largely ignored.
New York City has initiated a new permit for outdoor performances called “Open Culture” as a way to try and jumpstart the performance industry.
People can apply to the Mayor’s Street Activity Permit Office to get permission to stage ticketed events at over 100 outdoor locations throughout the five boroughs. To receive one of these permits, the applicants have to prove that they are connected to a bona fide art or cultural institution. “A theater, music venue, comedy club, or similar venue that has regular live performances could qualify,” says the description on the city website. “A residence that hosts performances (e.g., poetry readings) or a film production facility that is used to film shows before a live studio audience would not qualify.”
Yesterday, we all received an email from the Actors’ Equity Association President warning that this program does not meet basic union requirements in regard to either salary or COVID-19 safety measures.
In addition, there is nothing that mandates that performers and other workers receive unemployment insurance. There is nothing that mandates testing or social distancing between performers and the audience or between the performers themselves. There is no requirement for a COVID safety officer.
This is a completely different program than the state program called NY PopsUp.
In the same email to us, AEA’s President says, “Equity staff and your elected leadership have been in ongoing dialogue with state leaders about this (NY PopsUp) program since it was announced in January. As a result of those conversations, we have signed an agreement allowing for Equity members to be paid for NY PopsUp performances with a living wage and health and pension payments. The NY PopsUp team has also incorporated our feedback into their safety plan, improving the safety for everyone associated with the project.”
It took me many years of working to convince my father that working in the theatre was more than just a hobby. It wasn’t that he thought that the work was somehow ‘less than’ it is just that I don’t think he thought that it was actual work at all.
I spent much of my time in High School working on plays and musicals while I was also studying. When I was initially starting out in professional theatre here in New York, I often had to work non-theatre jobs during the day to pay the bills.
The theatres that I was working in were tiny and the jobs only lasted several weeks so, I think, in his head it was a continuation of what I had been doing in school - working by day and doing theatre for fun in my extra time. My theatre work seemed to be on top of my money earning, not money earning in and of itself.
I was finally able to join the union and start qualifying for health insurance about three years after I graduated from College. It wasn’t until three or four years after that that I got a regular job on a long running Broadway musical. While that job certainly paid better. I still don’t necessarily think that the perception of it was as serious employment.
After all, what I help create is called a ‘play’ and not a ‘work’.
The advantage of working on Broadway is that when people ask you what you do, they have often heard of your project. When you tell strangers that you are stage managing a three-character Strindberg play at a small downtown Off-Broadway theatre, the reaction is completely different. You can see people’s eyes glaze over and something between pity and embarrassment creeps into their expressions. “Oh… Hmm…”
The Strindberg play was very much a bona fide job. The performers and stage managers were working under union contracts and we were earning both unemployment and health insurance weeks.
To the greater world, however, working in a small theatre, I think, seems as if we are doing it for love rather than for money. Certainly, we are putting up with low pay and weird working conditions in part for the love of it, but we also have rent to pay and groceries to buy. Just like everyone else.
There are absolutely moments of glamor and flash while working in the theatre. There is nothing like an opening night on Broadway when you are working on a hit. Despite how boring it can be to actually sit through the entire thing, I wouldn’t trade the few times I’ve put on a tux and gone to the Tony Awards for anything. I have traveled all over the country and all over the world and seen some remarkable things.
Most of the time, however, I, along with all of my fellow industry members am simply working. Sometimes it’s rewarding and sometimes it, frankly, sucks.
Working in the theatre ensures extremely long hours and erratic schedules. We work when everyone else is resting. Nights and weekends mean extra work for us, not time off. We work through weddings, funerals, baptisms and holidays. Sometimes we are very well paid and sometimes not so much.
Yes, we love it. You cannot work as hard as we do and not love what you are doing. But we don’t need anyone’s pity nor should anyone be embarrassed for us. This is the life that we all chose.
Broadway, alone, when it’s functioning, brings in $12.6 billion to the city’s economy on top of ticket sales.
Broadway, alone, provides direct jobs for 12,500 people and indirect jobs for 74,500 more.
When you then add in every single other venue in the city and what they generate, you end up with a sizable chunk of our economy accounted for.
An analysis by the US Bureau of Economics found that arts and culture, pre-pandemic, accounted for 3.2% of our country’s entire Gross Domestic Product. In dollar terms that equals about $504 billion. To put that into some sort of context, the entire US tourism and travel industry only accounts for 2.8% of our GDP.
After this past year, we are all more than ready to be entertained again. We are all starved for it - I’m starved for it.
Despite that, we are not going to do it for free. We are not a charitable organization. This is our work.
Would anyone ask a meat packer or a bus driver or a stockbroker to work for free? Of course not. Those are “real” jobs and people who do them should be paid for them.
Whatever it might look like to outsiders, I, along with all of my colleagues, have spent my entire professional life working real jobs in the arts. Sometimes I’ve been on Broadway or at Lincoln Center and sometimes I’ve been in an empty unfinished loft in the middle of nowhere or even out in a field.
Our industry needs to come back. Whether or not you work in the performing arts, we all need it to return. All of the souls on both sides of the footlights need it, and all of our bank accounts need it too. Our country’s economy cannot recover without it.
Programs like the ones being initiated by NY state and the city are probably a great way to start. That said, all of us who are out of work cannot be called upon to participate in these for free or for vastly reduced wages and without complete and proper health guidelines being followed.
We are trained, skilled and experienced workers at the top of our crafts and deserve nothing less.
What most people don’t see when they tune in to watch Law and Order SVU and see Michael sitting behind his bench for a minute or two is the hours and days and weeks and months and years and decades that he put in to get there. It looks like fun - he gets to hang out with Marishka Hargitay and Raúl Esparza and kibbutz with them between shots. All of them, however, are working just as hard if not harder than anyone else in any other job.
Nothing in the performing arts industry is really coming back until we can beat this virus back to manageable levels. The Biden COVID response team is warning of a possible fourth spike. We aren’t there yet. When I read about idiotic Governors of Republican states lifting mask mandates all I can think of is, oh well, nobody will be touring into there anytime soon.
If the city and state really want us back, then performers and crew members need to be all reclassified as essential workers and be allowed to get vaccinated.
Yes, protocols for audiences need to be figured out, but long before that, protocols for the theatre workers themselves need to be created and put in place.
There is nothing frivolous about the work that we do in arts-related jobs. It is hard and, at times, completely thankless. Despite that, we are happy and committed to doing it with our whole hearts. We will be back, but not before our safety and financial well-beings are ensured.
As somebody wrote on the sidewalk in front of the Martin Beck Theatre in the early days of the pandemic, “You want a live performance? Wear a f&^%ng mask.”
I need to get out of Michael’s way, now, and go out for a walk. What he’s doing is very hard and he doesn’t need me distracting him.
He’s working.
Great post!
Can you get a version of this to the Mayor’s office and whatever agency oversees theater ? NYC isn’t NYC without the theater. Over these last years that I’ve been semiretired, friends have asked why don’t I move away from NYC. My pat response had been, I can’t live without the live first run theater! It’s been a huge hole in my life this year. I can only imagine how you both feel. Is there anything we theater lovers can do to advocate for the measures you write about?