The Business of Show Business - Revisited
Jul. 6th, 2019 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mrdreamjeansThere's no business like show business
if you tell me it's so.
Traveling through the country is so thrilling,
Standing out in front on opening nights
Smiling as you watch the benches filling
And see your billing up there in lights.
Pursuing a career as an actor is about more than the gig. Yes, you’re always trying to fill your creative soul, striving to be cast in a show, but other considerations come into play when you’ve beaten the staggering odds and been offered a contract.
I got into theater by accident. I didn’t study to be an actor in musicals. In fact, I didn’t sing till I was a freshman in college and then it was in a male glee club; but two years later, I was performing in my first professional gig, “Texas!” at Palo Duro Canyon, one of two performers selected from 500 folks auditioning in Dallas. From that moment, I was hooked, determined to pursue the dream revealed to me. (I earned my degree in History, pretended I was heading to law school; but, in my heart, I knew law school was not gonna happen.)
My dream was never about celebrity, it was about creative opportunities, the process. It's been about the joy of singing ... the show families ... the actors, designers, stage managers, musicians, dressers, hair and make-up folks and crew that come together to put on a show. You become very close when you take a show on the road. I adored it all! In order to survive and enjoy longevity in the theatre, you must be pragmatic ... flexible ... a congenial co-worker and, let's face it, a bit lucky. In professional theatre, success can be as much about business decisions as it is about creative opportunities. One fills the bank account; one fills the soul.
This year Actors Equity, the stage performers’ union, is 112 years old. I’ve been a proud member of the union for 39 of those 112 years. The 70 plus contracts I’ve worked under in my time as an Equity actor protected me from producer abuses, guaranteed a decent wage, provided me with health care benefits and a nice pension. Never underestimate the power of collective bargaining!
There’s nothing more exciting than hearing the words, “You’re hired” ... or ... “I want you to be in my show”. But, along with those words, comes responsibility. In addition to the creative opportunity, you have to negotiate the business side of business. How much will I make? Will I work enough weeks to be covered by health insurance? (In the 80’s, it took three weeks of work under a union contract for a year’s medical coverage; today, it’s 22 weeks and those weeks have to fall in the right quarters for any insurance coverage at all.)
Is the gig a strategic move? A step up? Is it mainly a way to cover the bills? A chance to share the stage with your friends or idols? Increase your skills? Enhance your reputation? As you mature, taking a contract can often be more of a business decision than an artistic one.
In 1993, I was touring in “Evita”. With a week off, I chose to vacation in Toronto. My first night there, I went two-steppin’ and met a guy named Steve Quinn. It turned out Quinn was a company manager for the sitting production of “The Phantom of the Opera”. We hit it off. To my amazement, he arranged an audition for me, a stranger, two days later. He also secured a ticket so I could see the splendid Canadian production, the first and last time I sat in the audience for the show. I was thrilled!
I successfully auditioned (couldn't let Steve down) and received a job offer. The offer was to join the Toronto company as male swing/ Piangi cover for $1000 Canadian a week. However, I would not get an extra stipend for going on as Piangi and would not have healthcare or weeks toward unemployment once the contract in Canada ended and I returned to the States.
I turned to my "Evita" cast mate and friend Lauren Thompson for advice. She said, "Neil, ask yourself the following questions ...1.) Is it a career move? ... will you be working with folks who can advance your career? 2.) "Is it more money than you're currently making?" 3.) "Is it a role you want to play?" Ultimately, I turned down the job and remained with the National Tour of "Evita". When "Evita ended a year+ later, “The Phantom of the Opera” national tour was holding auditions in Houston; I sang for the casting folks and a few weeks later was flown to NYC to audition for Hal Prince at The Majestic Theater. The stars aligned and I spent the next four years of my life in "Phantom" on tour.
It turned out the Toronto audition and job offer was a warm up; that positive experience gave me confidence I was right for the show; I had Piangi’s aria prepared. Ultimately, I knew the answer to all of Lauren's questions from the previous year was a resounding 'yes'. It was the correct artistic move, a good business decision and more money. Now, 25 years later, when I receive my pension each month, I thank Andrew Lloyd Webber. Between "Evita" and Phantom, I worked more than enough weeks to have a guaranteed pension.
When people ask about my current job (part time for my State Farm agent), I say with certainty, I appreciate the job; but, it's a job. I LOVE my career. and my career is theater. It’s not been a sprint, but a marathon, a rollicking adventure where I’m continually prepping for a new race. It’s not just about identifying opportunities to perform anymore, it’s also about opportunities that pay the bills, have the promise of a bit of a run and enhance the remaining years of my life. I continue to make pragmatic decisions about work with a honed understanding that comes from experience. It’s just not theater, it's also show biz ... and I'm not done yet.
if you tell me it's so.
Traveling through the country is so thrilling,
Standing out in front on opening nights
Smiling as you watch the benches filling
And see your billing up there in lights.
Pursuing a career as an actor is about more than the gig. Yes, you’re always trying to fill your creative soul, striving to be cast in a show, but other considerations come into play when you’ve beaten the staggering odds and been offered a contract.
I got into theater by accident. I didn’t study to be an actor in musicals. In fact, I didn’t sing till I was a freshman in college and then it was in a male glee club; but two years later, I was performing in my first professional gig, “Texas!” at Palo Duro Canyon, one of two performers selected from 500 folks auditioning in Dallas. From that moment, I was hooked, determined to pursue the dream revealed to me. (I earned my degree in History, pretended I was heading to law school; but, in my heart, I knew law school was not gonna happen.)
My dream was never about celebrity, it was about creative opportunities, the process. It's been about the joy of singing ... the show families ... the actors, designers, stage managers, musicians, dressers, hair and make-up folks and crew that come together to put on a show. You become very close when you take a show on the road. I adored it all! In order to survive and enjoy longevity in the theatre, you must be pragmatic ... flexible ... a congenial co-worker and, let's face it, a bit lucky. In professional theatre, success can be as much about business decisions as it is about creative opportunities. One fills the bank account; one fills the soul.
This year Actors Equity, the stage performers’ union, is 112 years old. I’ve been a proud member of the union for 39 of those 112 years. The 70 plus contracts I’ve worked under in my time as an Equity actor protected me from producer abuses, guaranteed a decent wage, provided me with health care benefits and a nice pension. Never underestimate the power of collective bargaining!
There’s nothing more exciting than hearing the words, “You’re hired” ... or ... “I want you to be in my show”. But, along with those words, comes responsibility. In addition to the creative opportunity, you have to negotiate the business side of business. How much will I make? Will I work enough weeks to be covered by health insurance? (In the 80’s, it took three weeks of work under a union contract for a year’s medical coverage; today, it’s 22 weeks and those weeks have to fall in the right quarters for any insurance coverage at all.)
Is the gig a strategic move? A step up? Is it mainly a way to cover the bills? A chance to share the stage with your friends or idols? Increase your skills? Enhance your reputation? As you mature, taking a contract can often be more of a business decision than an artistic one.
In 1993, I was touring in “Evita”. With a week off, I chose to vacation in Toronto. My first night there, I went two-steppin’ and met a guy named Steve Quinn. It turned out Quinn was a company manager for the sitting production of “The Phantom of the Opera”. We hit it off. To my amazement, he arranged an audition for me, a stranger, two days later. He also secured a ticket so I could see the splendid Canadian production, the first and last time I sat in the audience for the show. I was thrilled!
I successfully auditioned (couldn't let Steve down) and received a job offer. The offer was to join the Toronto company as male swing/ Piangi cover for $1000 Canadian a week. However, I would not get an extra stipend for going on as Piangi and would not have healthcare or weeks toward unemployment once the contract in Canada ended and I returned to the States.
I turned to my "Evita" cast mate and friend Lauren Thompson for advice. She said, "Neil, ask yourself the following questions ...1.) Is it a career move? ... will you be working with folks who can advance your career? 2.) "Is it more money than you're currently making?" 3.) "Is it a role you want to play?" Ultimately, I turned down the job and remained with the National Tour of "Evita". When "Evita ended a year+ later, “The Phantom of the Opera” national tour was holding auditions in Houston; I sang for the casting folks and a few weeks later was flown to NYC to audition for Hal Prince at The Majestic Theater. The stars aligned and I spent the next four years of my life in "Phantom" on tour.
It turned out the Toronto audition and job offer was a warm up; that positive experience gave me confidence I was right for the show; I had Piangi’s aria prepared. Ultimately, I knew the answer to all of Lauren's questions from the previous year was a resounding 'yes'. It was the correct artistic move, a good business decision and more money. Now, 25 years later, when I receive my pension each month, I thank Andrew Lloyd Webber. Between "Evita" and Phantom, I worked more than enough weeks to have a guaranteed pension.
When people ask about my current job (part time for my State Farm agent), I say with certainty, I appreciate the job; but, it's a job. I LOVE my career. and my career is theater. It’s not been a sprint, but a marathon, a rollicking adventure where I’m continually prepping for a new race. It’s not just about identifying opportunities to perform anymore, it’s also about opportunities that pay the bills, have the promise of a bit of a run and enhance the remaining years of my life. I continue to make pragmatic decisions about work with a honed understanding that comes from experience. It’s just not theater, it's also show biz ... and I'm not done yet.
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no subject
Date: 2019-07-07 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-08 04:48 am (UTC)It came to light the producer was hiring young non-union talent for $400/week and promising them their Equity Card at the end of the Summer (Equity Membership Candidates). Instead, he was cashing their pay checks, giving them $40/week + housing and telling them to keep their mouths shut or no card! In my case, I was living in the basement of the theater on an iron bed and there was raw sewage evident, more equity violations.
We had a very strong Equity Deputy and she brought in a union business rep from NY; the confidential discussions of our meetings were leaked to the producer by moles in the company. He fired the actors in all three companies (60+actors) after the second show (except the moles who we shunned). He asked a couple of us to play one week of "Annie". (I was FDR.) He privately asked me to stay and work non-union to play Daddy Warbucks (a role I really wanted to play).
I declined to work without a union contract and so was let go, too. It was a huge scandal and a big hit to the reputations of the historic theaters. The producer lost his star packages and was banned from producing for more than 10 years. Our firing went to arbitration; each of us won $500, a fraction of what we would have earned, but welcome when on unemployment in NYC. The union stood up for us! It was traumatic at the time; I've always been grateful and proud to be a member of the union. I still am, 39 years and counting.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-11 04:14 pm (UTC)I too was a union member, SIEU, from my days working in clinic. It’s been almost 30 years. You’ve reminded me just how critical union supports are for the worker, who’s otherwise powerless, and just why the powerful in DC have permitted the gutting if I unions across this country.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-12 01:55 am (UTC)