Does working for nothing make you an amateur? If you don't get paid, at what point can you call yourself a professional theatre director?
Artists have, of course, always suffered in garrets and, as far as I know, most published poets have day jobs. The creative act of theatre comes with its own particular problem: you can't do it alone. A director cannot work without actors, just as actors cannot perform without an audience. So is it akin to vanity publishing when an actor raises funds and produces a show so that they can star in it? Does the same go for directors?
One piece of advice attributed to Peter Brook suggests that to become a theatre director you must "stand in a room and say 'I am a director' until someone believes you". Another version of that could be "keep working until somebody pays you".
Money is desperately scarce when you start out in the theatre business. According to Equity: "Nearly half of those working in the UK performance industry earned less than £6,000 from the profession in the last year and most spent more time working outside the performance industry than they did within it." This despite the fact that, according to the Arts Council, "in this country, apart from film, theatre performances are the most commonly attended arts events".
Theatre contributes more than £2.5bn a year to the UK's economy but "the performing arts industry is subsidised by its workforce", a comment I suspect every fringe theatremaker would agree with. London has somewhere between 40 and 70 fringe theatre venues (depending on season and site-specific performances) and the vast majority of people producing shows in them are working unpaid or "for the love it". This begs the question, at what point does an opportunity become exploitation? Many theatres advertise posts for "interns", "volunteers", or "work experience", offering a great "showcase" or "networking opportunity". Are they just taking the piss?
Working for free has become so widespread that when, in 2003, London's acclaimed Gate Theatre managed to pay actors and stage managers a "small but regular wage for the first time in 25 years" it was seen as a groundbreaking event. There are too many of us wanting to make theatre and not enough people wanting to watch it; simple economics mean that there will never be enough money to go around.
But are all these theatremakers devaluing themselves by accepting unpaid work, or is it part of a necessary apprenticeship? And if unpaid work becomes the norm will a theatre career become something only the wealthy can consider?
I remember the thrill of my first paid directing job. I felt that I had arrived, that I could finally call myself a professional director because someone was actually going to pay me to direct actors. Never mind that I had to take out a loan to pay my rent. Never mind the fact that my £300 "fee" was gone before we were even halfway through the three-week rehearsal period. I had "gone professional".
A few years on, and my mind has changed considerably. We all need money, but directing someone else's vision on their terms frequently seems to negate the point of being a director. In a world where success is equated with money and we operate in a climate of commercialism - art's greatest threat - it is ever more important that artists refuse to measure success in financial terms. If we only create work that we are paid for, if we always have our eye on the box office, we will lose sight of why we entered this awkward industry in the first place. How we will live I don't know, but seeking validation in a pay cheque is a fool's game.
