Showing posts with label acting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label acting. Show all posts

Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Can actors earn a living from theatre? (And is ‘money’ a dirty word?)


Convener: Andrew Piper

Participants: Emily Hodgson, Sian Rees, Adam Milford, Aliki (?), and others who joined later

Summary of discussion, conclusions and/or recommendations:

The short answer to this question was: no. An actor on Equity minimum working on a year’s contract in the West End (among the best of the Equity minimum rates) will earn significantly less than the average London wage. Most actors do not work on 12 month contracts, but are contracted on a production-by-production basis for a few weeks or months at a time. This means that doing other work – either related (tv, voiceover, corporate training) or unrelated (temp jobs, bar work, box office/ushering) – was essential. Significantly, this is still true as the actor gets older and more experienced.

When working on a non-creative job our sense of ourselves as artists (or even jobbing actors) fades very quickly. We felt that it was important to have creative projects of our own during these periods – not just developing & maintaining skills - but that when most of our energies were taken up with trying to find temp work to pay the bills, these were hard to maintain. In addition, as actors we have to make ourselves available for paid acting work, and this will almost always compromise the commitment we can make to personal projects.

Unpaid theatre work makes this task even harder. Sometimes this is about feeding the soul, or increasing our exposure to the industry, but committing to these projects is always a gamble as often they turn out to be neither artistically satisfying nor a successful showcase. This is especially frustrating on projects when the actors are the only ones not getting any money. Some of the actors said that they no longer worked for no money, out of principal; they would work for low wages when they recognized the artistic worth and the low budgets, but never for no money at all.

Often we are urged to create our own work, which some do very successfully, but others hated having to turn themselves into entrepreneurs when that was neither their skill nor their interest. Also, while one-person plays are very portable, one of the things we love about acting (and which makes us better actors) is working with other actors.

Acting isn’t a luxury or a hobby for us – it’s what we need to do. Just because we enjoy it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get paid!

Most of the actors in the group said that they hankered for ensemble companies – longer contracts to cover multiple productions - perhaps including some development work for new writing. This would give us:
  • a greater degree of financial security
  • the chance to develop longer-term artistic relationships
  • a chance to develop as artists
  • a more-deeply engrained sense of ourselves as valued collaborators rather than disposable commodities, hired & let go several times a year. (or not hired at all!)

We noted the high drop-out rate of actors from the profession. One statistic mentioned (unverified) was 50% after 5 years, 75% after 10. While this could be seen in some ways as necessary, Darwinian wastage, the reasons for this wastage often have nothing to do with an actor’s talent for doing good work. How can the industry do more to support talented artists who perhaps lack the self-promotion skills that many, less talented artists may have in spades? Do you want an industry where the primary skillset of the artists is self-promotion?

As actors we often accept the low-status position that the industry tends to keep us in: don’t call us, we’ll call you. We contemplated whether it is healthy to be constantly trying to ingratiate ourselves with the gatekeepers to good, paid work. (And the gatekeepers are getting ever more restrictive in who they will even consider for audition). For our own mental and artistic health, some of us felt that we needed to focus more on being the kind of artist we want to be and let that attract others to us. But this is not easy for an actor, who needs to be part of a company in order to practice his/her art.

We discussed recent news articles about the dominance of public school and/or Oxbridge educated actors, and while we acknowledged that there were advantages they had which were not available to us – wealthy parents to subsidise their living arrangements, ready-made networks of influential family and friends – there was something we could aim to emulate, which was their confidence and sense of entitlement. (Note we use the word ‘entitlement’ not to foster resentment that we do not have the career we want, but to express a sense that we absolutely belong, that we approach directors with a confidence that we can be great in that part, but that if he/she does not want to cast us then that does not diminish our ‘star quality’ and we will find another home for it). Bitterness and resentment at inequality will not help us either as artists or as actors wanting work.

“This is me. You may like it. You may not. But this is me.”

Convener’s coda:
The fact that we are all agreed that earning a living from theatre alone is impossible – primarily because the wages are not enough to sustain between short-term contracts – has significant implications for any theatre-makers who use actors in their work. If actors are low-status commodities to pick up when needed and put down as soon as a project ends then they cannot develop as artists, and theatremakers will struggle to find people with the skills to bring their work to life. We need to find ways of developing longer-term relationships (and, where possible, contracts) that means that creative talents can be nurtured and developed, at the same time as earning a living.

Why do more people* not do Ta-Ke-Ti-Na? (* particularly/including actors and performers)

Convener(s): Gerard Bell

Participants: Theron Schmidt, Morven, Rosemary Lee, Danny Scheinmann, Alex and others.
 
Summary of discussion, conclusions and/or recommendations:

The obvious answer is because not many people know about it?
This introduced it further.

We talked about it, we did some exercises, played some games and talked some more.

Simply (hopefully) Ta Ke Ti Na is a practice of polyrhythm, where you are encouraged to vocalize one rhythmic pattern (syllabically), while you feet move to another and your hands to another all at the same time. The leader (a great and modest expert) leads the circle and with a chant to be imitated helps the circle in the rhythm and throws them off it.
If this sounds bizarre it is impossible to do, it is the greatest fun, and reassembles the mind. It is like meditation while being active.
Part of the purpose is that you can’t do it but sometimes you can.

I recommend as an activity to anyone, Simon McBurney recommends it to performs as essential to the act of being onstage, so it is interesting, maybe, that it is hard to persuade actors to do it.

Look on the website www.gotingo.co.uk for more blurb, and for contacts, or to add your name to the mailing list.

Or ask me.

Cheers and ta!

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

“I’m sure I could write something better than this crap” Actors as Playwrights


Convener: Andrew Piper (e-mail via Improbable) - if anyone wants to talk to me about writing plays and share their experiences of what works for them and what they find difficult then please drop me a line!

Summary of discussion, conclusions and/or recommendations:

I called this session because I’m trying to write my first play. I’ve been working as an actor for about 10 years, and have acted in student, fringe & non-professional theatre for 20 years before that. In the last few years I’ve performed a number of scripts – new writing & published work – that I thought were so bad that I was certain I could write something better.

I’ve started. And it’s harder than I thought

(I apologize for the fact that I was often caught up in the discussion and didn’t make as many notes as I should!)


  1. Actor (one participant was a director) who writes plays, not a playwright who acts (or directs). Acting is still the thing that I care most about and that most strongly defines me, but writing feels like an important part of me that’s been neglected.
    1. Background brings an awareness of dialogue (what is ‘speakable’ and what feels contrived or unrealistic) and theatricality (how theatrical devices work) that other writers may have to develop in other ways.
  2. Getting writing
    1. One person (a writer) wrote every single day; another (a director) just when he felt like writing, but if he felt the urge he’d make space to do it, whatever else he was doing at the time.
    2. If you don’t sit down and write, do you really need to write?
    3. A glass or two of wine can help silence the critic and just get you to write! (Stephen King wrote Kujo off his face on coke & booze, and has no recollection of having written it – not recommending this approach!)
  3. What are you afraid of?
    1. Not doing the subject justice
                                               i.     Don’t expect your first play to be your masterpiece
    1. That no-one will like it
    2. That it will never be produced (except in some zone 6 fringe venue)
    3. That it will be bad/boring
    4. That the first (bad) draft is a waste of time
                                               i.     Trust that is isn’t. You can’t write the second draft without it. (Not just a semantic truth!) All the thoughts and processes you go through in the first draft will feed through and make the 2nd draft stronger with better foundations.
    1. That actually the whole exercise may be a waste of time
    2. Getting paid for it feels important too.
  1. Relish the crap
    1. Allow the first draft to be terrible
    2. Write in clichés to start with (have someone check the 2nd draft to make sure none have found their way in to that!)
    3. Take away the censor. Allow yourself to be boring, blasphemous or obscene. Discover your inner Tourrette’s child. Be as inappropriate as you want, because no one else will see your first draft. (Writing these notes, I realize that’s part of the problem: if no one will see it then why am I writing it? I want approval for everything, even the first draft, but I won’t get that if it’s bad)
    4. If you do want someone to read the first draft then get them to talk dispassionately about the specifics of what works and what doesn’t. Generalised praise or criticism is not helpful.
  2. Make the first draft art-less
    1. Let the characters say exactly what they want
    2. Expose the motives; write the subtext out in the open
    3. Richard Curtis’s Hamlet reduces the whole play down to a few pages by just letting the characters say exactly what they mean, as concisely as possibly.
  3. … but give yourself some structure
    1. Write a scene at a time: a scene is where someone tries to get what they want, and by the end of the scene something has changed.
    2. Let the first draft be your way to discover the structure


Books & films that got mentioned:
So you want to be a playwright? By Tim Fountain
On Writing by Stephen King
Hamlet by Richard Curtis
Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip TV series by Aaron Sorkin
Breaking Bad (another TV series)

Interesting unrelated fact I learned today: Martin Scorsese wanted to be a priest; so did Stalin.

Can Acting Make You Mentally Unwell


Convener: Tom Wright

Participants: David Cottis, Alyn Gwyndaf, Alexis Terry, Hugh Hayes, Lucy Bradshaw, Victoria Dyson and some bumblebees.

Summary of discussion, conclusions and/or recommendations:

When I was an assistant director I accompanied an actress playing a rape victim to meet a rape counselor. Once she’d answered our questions she asked us, ‘How do you recreate this experience imaginatively every night and not have it affect you?’ We were both stumped – we’d never heard anyone ask that question before.

While it was agreed that acting could have lots of positive effects, can make you ‘mentally well’ that there were, as there are in any job, occupational risks. There were three main areas of interest: the life of an actor, the training and actually making a show.

It was noted that our society’s attitude to mental health is immensely unhelpful; don’t talk about it, because you won’t get offered work, etc.

LIFE OF AN ACTOR

Does the profession attract some people who are more mentally vulnerable? It was suggested that a lack of childhood love might draw some people to a profession that makes you the centre of attention. We don’t know of any research into this.

Actors are often in a subservient position; waiting for someone to offer them a job, and then when in work, aiming to please the director. This can lead to a lack of agency, the feeling of having control or influence in your life. A study showed that lower ranking civil service members died younger and had more stress-related conditions than high ranking staff; being low status is bad for your health.

We talked about the way that the belief of Talent Will Out can leave you depressed when life doesn’t work out the way you wanted; it’s your fault not bad luck (see Death of a Salesman.)

This lack of agency might also cause actors to take on projects for which they are psychologically unsuitable (i.e. someone who has experienced a trauma takes a role in which they will need to enact that trauma), or to be reticent to make directors aware of any psychological problems they are experiencing

Positive steps include the idea of life-long training, taking responsibility for constantly attending classes and workshops. Also taking a more lead role in creating your own work.

There is also a conflation of professional and personal worth. ‘I didn’t get the role – I’m crap/worthless.’ Directors can help with this by providing clear feedback, as to why they were unsuitable for the role.

Another negative myth actors might buy into is the ‘Tortured Artists,’ – if I’m not suffering it’s not working. If we can collectively challenge this idea, and be really clear that there’s nothing wrong with leaving your character’s emotions behind at the end of a day and having a healthy life outside rehearsals/performing, that might help.

TRAINING

Drama school encourages actors to dig deep, but sometimes without offering proper support. On the other hand, one actor reported feeling very supported when the training brought up difficult things for her, and enabled her to work with and through them.

Training talks a lot about ‘Warm Up, ‘Entering Your Character’, ‘Emotional Access’, but much less about ‘Cool Down,’ ‘Stepping Away from Your Character’ and ‘Emotional Release/Resilience.

THE PROCESS

It was noted that the physical risks of acting are taken very seriously, warm ups, physios, knee pads. What psychological support do people need to be offered?

Actors (and rehearsals) work in different ways. Actors who develop a role from the inside out might be more emotionally vulnerable than those who are interested only in the external and what the audience sees.

The process of working on a show in general has an impact; ending a production can trigger a down, following the adrenalin high of performance. It was suggested that this could be addressed by acknowledging this collectively at the end of a run so that the actors don’t feel that they are alone/abnormal for having these feelings.

Performing a show can cause a lot of bleed between the character’s emotions and your own; this is not necessarily a bad thing – actors who perform being in love, falling in love, for example. Sometimes the expression/release of emotion can be cathartic/exhilarating. Problems occur when traumatic emotions are carried off the stage. Actors can contribute this by a gung-ho attitude to going deeper and deeper into emotions and carrying them around, ‘It makes me a better artist.’

Current closing rituals are focused on frivolity/alcohol consumption. If that works then great! Some suggested different rituals, like a simple five-minute meditation on your own body and the space around you, to ground you before leaving the theatre. Mark Rylance jumps up and down saying his own name, to get himself back into his own body.

In rehearsals, some report distress when rehearsing a scene and the day lefts with them stuck in the middle of a trauma.

In trauma therapy, there is the concept of Post-Traumatic Distress being stuck imaginatively/in your memory in the moment just before the trauma. Lots of therapies rehearse the traumatic moment, which can just make things worse. Possibly rehearsals can do the same thing? However, the latest idea in trauma work is that by playing through to the moment beyond, taking the story of the trauma through to, if not, ‘They lived happily after,’ at least, ‘They lived and other stuff happened,’ it can help heal the trauma. Similarly if a director takes responsibility for closing the work at the end of the day, allowing a scene to run to it’s end, or leading a cool down, it can help actors not to get ‘stuck’ in the traumatic moment of a scene.

We talked about stage fright and how this can lead to actors getting completely blocked/drying. All of Stanislavski’s work deals with his attempts to overcome this tendency in himself.

We talked about the director’s responsibility; that many go ‘This is Not Therapy,’ despite leading exercises to bring up deeply buried emotions in the actor. Part of creating a safe process might involve enabling actors to come forward when they are struggling. One director was quoted who sees his job as asking the actors each day, ‘How are you?’ so that they have the space to feedback if difficulties are occurring.

Trusting that a director will support you no matter what is apparently helpful. On the other hand directors need to resist the arrogance of assuming they can act as therapists!

If an actor taps into something and loses control in a rehearsal, it was suggested that acknowledging this and allowing that person to go through it is better than going, ‘Right, tea break, let’s pretend this isn’t happening,’ as this can stigmatize that actor’s emotions.

Further reading/research included Frank Block, a choreographer who trained as an existential therapists and lecturers on creating a safe space for performers, and Nicky Flax, a director who’s very interested in these issues.

It was a fascinating discussion, if I missed off any important points please let me know! Also please get in touch if you have anything to add especially research or technique