From the Executive Summary

• In the 2010-2011 season, approximately 62% of all Broadway tickets were purchased by tourists.
• Sixty-five percent of the audiences were female.  
• The average age of the Broadway theatregoer was 44 years, older than in the past few seasons.
• Eighty-three percent of all tickets were purchased by Caucasian theatregoers.
• Broadway theatregoers were a very well-educated group.  Of theatregoers over 25 years old, 78% had completed college and 39% had earned a graduate degree.
• The average Broadway theatregoer reported attending 5 shows in the previous 12 months.
• Playgoers tended to be more frequent theatregoers than musical attendees.  The typical straight play attendee saw eight shows in the past year; the musical attendee, five.
• Fourty-four percent of respondents said they bought their tickets online.
• Bullet about the female audience deleted. (sic)
• In general, advertisements were not reported to have been influential in making the purchasing decision.
• The average Broadway theatregoer reported attending 5 shows in the previous 12 months. The group of devoted fans who attended 15 or more performances comprised only 6% of the audience, but accounted for 33% of all tickets (4.1 million admissions). 

Source: www.broadwayleague.com

Given all the demographics we know about theatre in the US and westernized countries today, I think it’s safe to make the following conclusion: Theatre is primarily for white people, as both audience members and practitioners.

When I first saw these statistics, I got those old familiar feelings of guilt and anguish, that it’s a “bad thing” that theatre isn’t shared or enjoyed by large numbers of non-whites. I would like it to be – I would like everyone to like and enjoy theatre. I would like more white people to enjoy theatre (those numbers, although large, represent only a small fraction of the population as a whole, maybe 2% according to the NEA research on arts participation). I would like to see audiences grow, witness theatre houses full with a diverse crowd of theatre-goers. Clearly, it ain’t happening.

But then the question came to me – is it so bad to admit that theatre is for white people? White western culture has, for better or worse, risen to a dominant position in this multicultural, heterogeneous society that has evolved in this country, and because of that fact alone it is subject to criticism and the push of upward mobility from cultural forces below (at times rightfully so). But perhaps it’s just worth the few seconds it takes to stop and  consider the idea that white people, like any other culture or race, deserve to have a culture and forms of art that they enjoy and that is reflective of their values and history. Theatre, as it has evolved from the Greeks, seems to be one of those cultural art forms that people of white European descent have enjoyed for a long time (and the majority of them enjoyed it until the advent of mass media). And that, in and of itself, is OK. Isn’t it?

This is not to say that other races or ethnic groups do not have theatre or do not enjoy it. But the particular form of the scripted written work as interpreted by actors in a linear story-telling fashion seems to be one that has interested western Caucasians for a long time, and apparently continues to do so for a certain demographic slice of white people as a whole.

Now am I not arguing that non-whites do not enjoy theatre and participate in it. Of course they do. But statistically speaking, on the whole, non-whites simply do not appear interested in the art form as defined above. No other race or ethnic group charts in double digit percentages either as audience members or practitioners of “legit” theatre. The question that really needs to be asked to probe these numbers more carefully is whether or not these low numbers are the result of institutional discrimination, or simply general disinterest in the art form. I suspect many people will want to believe the former, but the numbers seem to indicate that perhaps the latter is closer to reality. One aspect of this question that needs serious consideration is the economic inequality question, but even that may reveal that whites are more willing to sacrifice economic hardship to see and do theatre.

Perhaps an example will serve to illustrate the point. During the Negro League era of baseball, a sport created by Caucasians, the institution of Major League Baseball clearly discriminated against African-American players. But it was also pretty clear that African-Americans were interested in baseball – enough to form and maintain their own league as a viable business on a national level, and populate it with first-class talent.

By comparison, African-American theatre companies today are few and far between, and the non-white plays that make it to professional theatres in New York and regionally are mostly viewed by the same white patrons who like the art form. I found three different listings of African-American theatres, and none listed more that 100 theatres nationwide. Of the 20 theatres listed on the Theatre Alliance of Buffalo website, 2 (10%) are primarily African-American (Buffalo is 38.6% African-American); one exists in name only, and the other produces rarely. Nor have I seen any indication that African-Americans are dominating the audiences at The Motherfucker with the Hat, nor are Asian-Americans the majority audiences at Chinglish. All this is not by way of criticism, mind you – if the interest isn’t there, then there is nothing really to criticize. To each their own.

The thing about having a passion for something like theatre is that you really, really want to share that passion. It is difficult to accept that statistically many people out there simply don’t share your passion for or interest in theatre. They have other things they enjoy doing more. When we talk about audience development, isn’t that what we are trying to do? Get people who are fundamentally uninterested in our passion to share it with us? Statistically that doesn’t seem to be working so well, particularly among the young. Perhaps the time has come to say that theatre is what it is – an art form for older, well-off, educated white people. Nobody else is truly interested in it at the moment, because the numbers do not indicate any support for the art form beyond this small slice of the American demographic profile.

Discussions like these make people feel uneasy. Heck, I feel uneasy writing about it. I’m not even sure I am doing the right thing writing about it. But statistics, while not necessarily speaking anything one would label “the truth,” do carry a certain reality about them. For theatre, the current reality is that the art form is an art form for and about white people. This reality does not mean that crossover artists don’t exist; August Wilson is one of the most revered playwrights in modern theatre. And, just as many white people enjoy an art form like rap/hip-hop, which has its roots in African-American culture (as does jazz), many non-whites enjoy the art form of theatre. But I don’t think we should spend a lot of time wailing and gnashing our teeth anymore and feeling guilty over the constant barrage of data that indicates that theatre is a culturally Caucasian art form. We should just admit the obvious, say it’s OK, and move on – unless we can absolutely ascertain that these numbers are a result of institution discrimination. What is important is that theatre remain an open “big tent” art form, open and welcoming to all comers of whatever creed or race or nationality. -twl

David Dower, who has been the mojo behind the institute along with Polly Carl, has his explanation here on the New Play Blog. Molly Smith, the AD of Arena Stage, has her say here. The words are encouraging, the conversation polite and gracious, the ideas high-minded – and yet something just seems off in the whole deal. Arena Stage gets to keep the production aspects of the enterprise (AVNPI and its funding), including the playwright residencies, while the research wing now moves to Emerson as The Center for the Theater Commons. Howlround will become the new portal and voice for this institute once the move to Emerson is completed in April.

The only way I think something better can come out of this is if the Center for the Theatre Commons, from its new location at an academic institution, now becomes an advocacy center for encouraging academic theatre departments to produce new plays. Why do I think this is a good direction to go in? Because basically what the Center for the Theater Commons has lost in all this is the ability to get new plays actually staged. They can be a clearinghouse network all they want, and dedicate themselves to providing information about new play production to us all (which is good!), but if they cannot muster the means to help either financially or in terms of putting together playwrights with producers, they lose a lot of influence and effectiveness, it seems to me.

Sooner or later, someone in the theatre industry will come to realize that the best link between university theatres and working regional theatres is through new work development.  To illustrate this, let’s take my institution – SUNY Fredonia. I will be directing a new play this coming spring – High Plains Fandango by Red Shuttleworth. It’s our second collaboration. I have produced other new works in the past, both at the student and non-student level. I control a theatre facility that has a black box seating 180, a mainstage seating 385, and a full-scale School of Music if musicals are what you want to work on. I have a large population of young actors, designers and technicians at the undergraduate level, a full scene and costume shop, and supervisory faculty. I have a production budget that currently sits at $65K (but is subject to box office receipts) as well as access to other funding through the university foundation and grants. I have a track record that shows I am interested in new work. So why, you ask, wouldn’t some regional theatre somewhere, or some institute interesting in getting new works produced, be interested in partnering with me and making use of my resources?

I am not alone, of course. There are probably 2,000+ other institutions in this country in the same, or even better, positions. A great majority of our work is just the re-staging of plays already done. This is pretty much a waste of time and energy, in that it does not train the next generation of theatre artists on how to create theatre, merely how to re-produce it. I have no idea what the statistics are, but I am willing to bet that academic institutions in this country control the most actual physical theatre space (consider that the statistics I ripped off about my complex exist in a rural area where the population of the entire county is only 134,905). What would be so terribly difficult or hard about donating even as little as 15% of that space and energy to producing new works? Why won’t academic departments and working theatres collaborate on this?

The reason, I believe, is the “iron curtain” mentality. Both sides, naturally, have their vested self-interests and issues. Academic theatre, for the most part, seems to see itself as a training ground for actors, but in reality they serve mostly as “museum theatres” designed to keep up the appearance of producing the classics and “great art.” Working theatres see themselves as “professsional” entities and probably do not want to run the risk of working with students and faculty, whom they view as “non-professionals.” I am guessing that these are the (very broad and very generalized) reasons, but even if I am wrong about that, I certainly am not wrong about the notion that there is little collaboration between the two entities, especially in regard to new work.

So even though I remain puzzled about this split, I would encourage Mr. Dower and Ms. Carl to consider the idea of turning their new Center into more that an internet presence that just gathers information. While ArtsEmerson is not, strictly speaking, the academic theatre unit of Emerson College, but rather an arts presenting organization, the possibility exists that, using the information they gather, they could become a center where generative theatre artists and academic theatre departments can meet and generate more productions of new work. Perhaps we can do something about tearing down that iron curtain.

As an aside – a great place to get this started might be the National Association of Schools of Theatre annual meeting in late March 2012. Their program includes a final session about new plays. Here is the description

New Plays: Roles for Regional Theatres and Educational Institutions 

New plays contribute to the vitality and growth of theatre. Over the years a number of regional theatres have developed in-depth expertise in nurturing and producing new plays. Representatives from several of these theatres in the region will present their perspectives on new play development. Content will range from nuts-and-bolts to artistry and will be a foundation for group discussion about new play development in theatre schools and departments, either alone or in conjunction with a regional company. The goal is to move from what has been done, to what we have learned, to what possibilities seem present, to specifics for moving ahead. Naturally, most of these questions and issues have an administrative dimension. The session is intended in part to assist administrators as they consider the size and scope of potential or expanded engagement with new play development in their home situation, and then the various means for facilitating such engagement with the resources at their disposal. Another important topic is how regional theatres and institutions can assist each other in the new play arena. This session is intended to be highly interactive.

Sounds like the time is ripe.  -twl

For the sake of context, I thought I would start by stating the reasons I joined AEA when I had the chance for full disclosure. My opportunity came in 2006, at the conclusion of my year-long residency with the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton VA. The ASC was a great theatre to work for. It produces high-energy Shakespeare utilizing “original practices,” and has a touring arm as well as a resident company. Contracts are for one year, and some actors do get re-hired year after year. The Resident Company hires a mix of union and non-union actors, while the touring company is non-union. It was by pure luck, however, that when I arrived to begin my year, the theatre offered Equity Membership Candidacy points to the touring company members. I did not know this when I originally signed on. Since the contract was a 50-week contract, by the end of the tour I had the requisite 50 points to join AEA.

You have five years to convert the points to full AEA membership, but I decided to join right away. I had two reasons for doing so. The first had to do with my age, and looking at a lifetime of being an actor in the American theatre. There I was, after working for 33 years in the theatre as a non-union actor, being offered the opportunity to join the union. I found myself unable to resist the “prestige” of being able to say I was a member of AEA. It is damn near impossible to deny the feeling that you have somehow “arrived” as an actor when you have that card. When I got my card, one of the first things I did was travel to New York City, walk into the Equity building in midtown Manhattan, flash my card, and entered into the main lobby of AEA. I read all the casting notices posted, used the bathroom, saw some auditions taking place in one of the two audition rooms, sat reading for awhile, and then left. I still felt like an outsider, since I wasn’t really pursuing an active full-time acting career, but just the simple fact that they let me in was the verification I needed to be sure it all wasn’t a dream.

The second reason I took the card is that, as an academic, membership in Equity gives you additional standing and credibility. Many academic theatre programs boast of their faculty as being “professionals” because they have union membership, and so I thought I would take the AEA membership to boost the credibility of my own pre-professional BFA program. Equity membership probably carries more subliminal weight in the academic world than an MFA. There’s a sort of an unspoken “penis envy” mentality about union membership in academia. So I decided to swallow the Viagara pill of professionalism and gain a little more “street cred” as an acting teacher.

Two things to note about these reasons: neither is financial, and both are about perceptions. They are personal, and speak more to how AEA membership is perceived by others and, by extension, yourself. To be quite blunt about it, I took the card because it changed the perception of how I view myself and how I perceive others view me. I believe I have enough self-awareness to realize I am no better nor no worse an actor (or teacher) than I was before I took the card, nor am I any more or less “professional” in my approach to my work. Like most people who get a card, I was lucky – in the right place at the right time through no particular skill of my own. Having spent 33 years of being “unlucky,” I decided to pounce on this one bit of fortune in my career. That’s all I got.

Since then I have found one reason for taking the card that I feel is legitimate, and that is access to information. The ability to gain the information AEA has and then pass that information on to my students is helpful. I place my copies of Equity News in the student lounge where they can read it. I can see via the Callboard where auditions are happening and what shows are particularly popular at the moment. I can show them a breakdown. I can, in short, give them a look into what AEA can offer. This is the primary reason I keep my membership.

Financially, however, one has to question the value of Equity. All the numbers from its own report indicate that you cannot make a living strictly as an Equity actor. You must have some other form of income, whether it’s from the traditional “day job,” or a collection of other work such as commercials, TV or movie extra, voiceovers, etc. So the question becomes this; can you make as much money as a non-union actor as a union actor? Basically, all you have to do as a non-union actor is beat the median annual earnings of $7,382 for an AEA member and you’ve done that. The caveat is that you will probably have to work more weeks to do so, unless you can average $434/wk for 17 weeks. So fundamentally, I would say the answer is generally “yes” with one exception – getting a Broadway production contract. One former student of mine had a principal contract in Phantom for a few years, and it worked out OK for him. Even a production chorus contract can be doable. “Run of the play” contracts that are open-ended are of course more financially rewarding than limited engagements, but eventually most shows do close. So at that level, sure, perhaps AEA pays, as there is no other non-union equivalent.

But at every other level it’s questionable.  I will use myself as an example. When I arrived back in Buffalo in the fall of 2006 as an Equity actor, things clearly changed for me. There are no Equity theatres in Buffalo with the demise of Studio Arena Theatre (not that it ever hired local actors anyway, union or not), and so the theatres in Buffalo hire AEA members under a Special Agreement contract called the Buffalo-Rochester Agreement (BRA). AEA has been completely unable to turn any of the remaining Buffalo theatres into an Equity contract theatre at any level. While theatres do hire AEA members, they can hire no more than three in any one show, otherwise they also have to hire an AEA stage manager. Given that there is a large pool of good actors in the city who are non-union, the trend of course is to hire non-union people.

In my case, I have to balance what I make as a union actor against what I might be able to make as a non-union actor. I know of at least two clear instances where I was not hired because I was in the union, so I extrapolate from that and make the assumption that there were other opportunities I have missed for the same reason. It becomes a matter of quantity. Since I have made $300/wk as a non-union actor in the past, I will use that as a figure for comparison.

The BRA is tiered, so at the top tier the most I can earn as a union actor is $476/wk. The low in that scale is $165. One 7-week AEA contract at the top tier yields $3332 (numbers are gross, of course). At $300/wk non-union you end up with $2100. At $250/wk you end up with $1750. Given these numbers, if I were to maintain a 2:1 ratio of shows (2 non-union shows for every one union show), I would make more as a non-union actor. 2 non-union contracts @$300/wk would yield $4200, and @$250/wk would yield $3500. And of course, there are no union dues taken out of a non-union contract. At 2.2%, that comes to about $73 out of the $3332, making the salary $3259 before taxes. Over 5 years, such a ratio would yield $16,295 in earnings from union work (after dues, before taxes), $21,000 @$300/wk, and $17,500 @$250/wk. Could I maintain a 2:1 ration of shows? If I actively pursued it I think so. Could I negotiate more than $300/wk? In some cases, probably. In short, by the numbers, for me in the city of Buffalo, union membership clearly does not pay. And even if you make the argument that I am working twice as much to make this pay, well – don’t actors want to work? More work means more experience and more exposure, leading to more work. In either case, I want to be working as many weeks as I can. Being a non-union actor gives me that opportunity to work more often.

But what about someplace like Chicago? I was pretty surprised to find out that Chicago is in one way a worse city that Buffalo as far as paying non-union actors is concern. My son is working in Chicago as a non-AEA actor, and according to him, apparently there is an incredibly wide income gap between union and non-union actors. In Chicago it appears that non-union actors working in non-union theatres are more likely paid a flat fee that a weekly wage (smaller theatres in Buffalo do the same). The Chicago Area Theatre contract (CAT) has a 6-tier scale running from $200-721/wk. The CAT Tier 4 rate is $477/wk, one dollar more than the top tier for the BRA. I do not really have any information in terms of what non-union actors can make as a “top rate” in Chicago, but apparently it is not much. So one assumes that if you are AEA in Chicago, you are probably shooting to earn that Tier 4 salary at a minimum. And interestingly enough, your real competition is actors from outside Chicago. So one would assume that you can earn more money as an AEA member in Chicago than as non-union, but your competition is far greater, since you are competing not at a local level, but at a national level. If you are a local Chicago actor, are you better off getting a $1500 flat fee for a 7-week show than $1400 as AEA on a $200/week contract before dues, the bottom tier? Which kind of work will you get more of? I don’t have enough information to answer that question precisely, but it may be that if you are a well-regarded local union actor and can get regular work, you should be better off in the long run as a union member. And of course, the usual caveat applies – don’t quit your day job.

As an interesting comparison, my son had made two regional commercials for a restaurant chain called On The Border. He is now a member of SAG because of it. In total, the work in those two commercials earned him enough money to hit his goal of having $10K savings in the bank in one year. AEA has absolutely no ability to do that for any stage actor who isn’t already a major star and can negotiate a salary far above AEA minimums. So which union would you rather get into first?

Other cities? I can’t say, but if you’re in another city, here are some numbers to help you try to make sense of your situation. These are average AEA earnings per work week in other cities and for other contracts (these are averages, not contract minimums):

• Off Broadway NYC – $661
• NYC Letter of Agreement – $340
• Mini-NYC – $$320
• New England – $368
• Disney World – $774
• Orlando – $224
• New Orleans – $243
• Chicago – $572
• Hollywood – $619
• San Francisco Bay Area – $500
• Modified Bay Area – $195
• Small Professional Theatre (SPT, generally <100 seats) – $393 East/$395 Central/$371 West
• Letter of Agreement (LOA) – $523 East/$565 Central/$459 West
• LORT Repertory – $653 East/$0 Central/$$1,161 West
• LORT Non-rep – $843 East/$848 Central/$886 West
• Special Agreements (such as BRA or Pittsburgh) – $497 East/$729 Central/$309 West
• Theatre for Young Audiences – $515 East/$445 Central/$460 West
• Guest Artist – $497 East/$595 Central/$484 West
• Special Appearance – $302 East/$266 Central/$271 West

(Source – EQUITYNEWS, December 2011, p. 16)

Conclusions? I would offer the following:

• AEA is in most aspects a vanity union, and is more about perception than purpose. Being able to say “I belong to Equity” conjures up dreams of getting on Broadway and every myth that goes along with those dreams. It offers the promise of access, but cannot truly deliver on that promise for all its members. AEA has done a great job of publicly spinning itself as a great union achieving great things for its members and as portraying itself as having “the best of the best” as its members (exclusivity), and to some extent that is true and cannot be denied. But on the whole, neither the numbers nor the general quality of American Theatre taken as a whole bears this out. Generally speaking, its members are vastly underpaid when compared to total theatrical gross revenues, and there is plenty of high-quality non-union theatre to be seen in this country.
• AEA offers no financial security at all, merely regulates some working conditions and minimum salaries at some theatres. These minimums are not enough on average to take care of daily expenses of most people. This union even restricts access to health care to its members by requiring a minimum number of weeks worked before you can get health insurance through the union (and you have to keep getting those same numer of weeks each year otherwise you lose health care). The only situation in which AEA clearly pays is to get a production contract in a long-running Broadway show.
• AEA is essentially a union of part-time independent contractors. Again, don’t quit your day job.
• My students are constantly asking me when is the right time to join AEA. If pressed to give a straight-up answer, I would have to say only when you are offered a Broadway or National Tour Production contract. Or you plan to make a career at Disneyworld. Being an AEA member means you can only work under an AEA contract, and in a lot of instances, from a financial as well as career perspective, you may be losing opportunities that can cost you money or the chance at a quality artistic experience.

As for me, I remain conflicted about my own membership. Since I have a pretty good day job, the finances do not overly concern me. For the time being I will probably retain membership because it does my department more good than it does me personally, and my current responsibilities at Fredonia preclude my looking for extensive work in Buffalo for the moment. I imagine I will have to re-think that position when I retire, so I am also preserving my membership for that moment. Will I remain a local Buffalo actor, or will I test myself at NYC auditions at the regional level? Or will I give up the theatre game altogether?  Time will tell. -twl

So it seemed like the perfect day to sit down and attempt to analyze the latest Theatrical Season Report from Actors’ Equity Association. As far as I can tell, the report is not yet available online, so I cannot link you to it. It appeared in print in the latest edition of Equity News (Dec. 2011), and covers the 2010-11 theatrical season. AEA’s fiscal year runs from April 1-March 31 of any given year. So I am assuming these statistics run across the same time period. The report is compiled and written by Mr. Steven DiPaola, Assistant Executive Director for Finance and Administration at AEA. In general, I think he does a pretty good job of calling the shots as he sees them. He is not overly enthusiastic when presenting positive numbers, nor is he overly negative when reporting bad news. Of course, he does try to put the numbers in the best possible light, but I give him credit for not being overly rah-rah about them.

Here are the statistical highlights:

• AEA reported 42,549 members as of April 1, 2011. This figure includes stage managers who are AEA members. There is no breakdown between how many stage managers there are vrs. how many actors there are in AEA, so keep that in mind as you read other statistics. Since about 16% of all work weeks are generated by Stage Manager weeks, you would be on fairly safe grounds statistically if you reduced every number presented here by 15% to determine what the number would be for actors only. So it’s feasible to assume that only 36,167 members of AEA are actors.
• AEA reports a total of 290,410 member work weeks. A work week is defined as one member working one week on an AEA contract of any sort. This makes the average number of work weeks for every member of AEA 6.82 work weeks (Total members/total work weeks). However, only 17,089 members reported having at least one work week, so Equity reports the average weeks worked as 17 (16.993). Only 41.7% of members saw at least one work week in the past year. The remainder had no work at all, for a yearly unemployment rate of all members of slightly under 60%. Of the members who had earnings, 40% made between $1-5,000, 29% made $5000-15,000, 10% made $15-25,000, and 11% made $25-50,000. In other words, 90% of all AEA members made $50,000 or less. 4% made $50-75,000, and 7% made over $75K (total of 101% probably due to averaging upwards).
• The average weekly total was 5,585 work weeks, which represents 13.6% of members. So in any given week about 5,531 members were working.
• The total seasonal earnings for all AEA members was $334,559,463. The median member earnings in that time was $7,382. Interestingly, although total seasonal earnings were up slightly (one-tenth of 1%) from last year, median earnings decreased by 1% from last year – from $7,475 in 09-10 to $7,382 in 10-11.
• There are three regions in AEA: Eastern, Central and Western. The Eastern region dominates in all categories. This region accounts for 64.7% of total work weeks, 65.8% of weekly work weeks, and 73.9% of seasonal earnings. That is somewhat in line with the percentage of members who live in the Eastern region – 63%.
• NYLACHI accounts for 25,430 members. That’s 59% of the total membership. Close to 39% of all AEA members live in NYC. The raw numbers are 16,521 in NYC; 7,476 in LA; 1,433 in Chicago. Regionally, the Eastern region has 26,792 members (63%); Central has 3,982 (9.4%); and Western has 11,775 (27.7%).
• The Production Contract, the one that governs Broadway and tours, accounted for 54.8% of all earnings in 10-11 against 25.3% of all work weeks generated. That’s $183,184,564. The so-called “Point of Organization” heading of that contract, which governs those shows “sitting” in a Broadway house, accounted for 39.9% of total seasonal earnings ($133,388,028) against 17.3% work weeks. The LORT contracts accounted for 15.7% of all earnings but 20.7% of all work weeks, Developing Theatre contracts (LOA, SPT) 4.8% earnings/15.9% work weeks, and Stock contracts 2.3% earnings/2.9% work weeks. The Disney Contract generates 3.77% of all earnings ($12,597,371) against 5.6% of all work weeks. You’ll work more in the regions and developing theatres but get paid far less.
• The average earning per work week of a production contract was $2,492. Assuming that, as an AEA member, you could work 50 weeks at that average, you could make $124,600 per year. The average salary per week at a LORT theatre was $877. That comes out to $43,850 per year.
• Finally, gender and ethnic breakdowns. AEA is statistically even in terms of gender: 50.1% male to 49.9% female. There is, however, no breakdown in terms of how genders compare on an earnings basis. Fully 20% of all AEA members (9,027) did not identify an ethnicity or race. AEA is dominated by Caucasians – 84.6% (30,639). African-Americans come in at 7.3% (2,658), Hispanics at 2.9% (1,033), mixed race at 2.8% (1,031), Asian American at 2.3% (820), and American Indian at 0.1% (38).

Can any conclusions or inferences be made from these numbers? I suppose so.

• As an AEA member, you have only a 40% chance of getting any work at all in a given year. This statistic, however, is a bit misleading, because it does not account for those members who are not actively looking for work. Many people who are retired, discouraged, or otherwise have taken themselves out of the market are not accounted for, even though they keep their Equity membership up. Once you’re a member, Equity dues, at about $120 per year, are fairly easy to keep up, thus allowing people not seriously looking for work to maintain appearances (and Equity to maintain higher membership statistics). Perhaps one should be required to attend at least one Equity audition to be considered a “member in good standing” if one doesn’t work in a given year. That would make the percentages a little more accurate.
• If you’re AEA, you’re probably white.
• You cannot make a living solely as an Equity actor. You must have other sources of income. All Equity actors should be considered part-time workers/independent contractors in the current economy.
• To make AEA membership pay at all, you need to live on the East coast, preferably in NYC, and you need to score a production contract. Everything else is pretty much peanuts when you take into account expenses.
• Interestingly enough, Chicago, which is thought of as a hot theatre town in most circles, is not so hot for AEA members. It only generated 7,438 work weeks, an average of 5.2 work weeks per member (1,433 in the Chicago area). Average earnings per work week in the Chicago area were $572. That’s $2,974.40 annually for the average member under the Chicago Area Theatre contract. And of course, you have to ask yourself how many of the actors working under the CAT contract are actually residents of Chicago.
• The report tracks some trends over a ten-year period. Perhaps the most interesting of these trends is that, despite the fact that LORT theatres are supposedly dying, they have generated a consistent amount of work weeks over the ten-year period, neither markedly growing nor shrinking. In the 1990-91 season, LORT theatres generated 58,369 work weeks total. In 10-11, that number was 59,982.
• Finally, when we talk about this question of paying artists a living wage and all that, we should take this concept into account. I cannot recall that I have ever seen what percentage of the total revenue of a Broadway show goes to AEA members. So I have created this potential scenario to try to get some sort of ballpark idea of what this could be about. This particular scenario is not factual, but uses some facts and figures to arrive at a hypothetical conclusion. Here are the assumptions:
• As of today on the website BroadwayWorld.com, the total gross revenue for all the Broadway shows listed comes out to $1,499,084,323. Since the year is ending this can be considered the calendar year 2011 total gross earnings.
• The total seasonal earnings for AEA members under a “sitting” (non-touring) Production Contract in the 10-11 season were $133,388,028 (39.87% of all AEA earnings nationwide). The assumption is that every one of the shows listed on BroadwayWorld is working under a Production Contract.
• The total annual grosses from BroadwayWorld and the 10-11 AEA seasonal earnings do not line up precisely in terms of when the data were compiled, but they are as close as I can come at the moment for the sake of this particular argument.
• Under these assumptions, as a percentage, the $133.3 million dollars of season earnings of AEA members from a production contract represents 8.9% of the $1.5 billion gross revenue from all of Broadway’s shows. Of course, a Broadway show has many more expenses than just AEA salaries, but still – only 8.9%?
• This hypothesis brings us to the area once again of equity and economic justice (or lack thereof) in the theatrical marketplace. The money that is being made in the world of the theatre – whether profit or non-profit – is being made on the backs of the actors, not to mention the playwrights, directors, composers, etc. etc.
• It should also bring into clearer focus the wide gap between administrators and working artists of all stripes. André Bishop will regularly pull down his $400K salary year after year as long as he remains AD of LCT. There is no actor working for any of his shows who will make that much from AEA earnings in any one year. Given the averages involved, it would take an AEA actor about 4 years on average under a Production Contract to make that amount of money from AEA earnings.
• One might argue that AEA is doing a pretty piss-poor job of getting decent-paying contracts for its members by these standards. What else can you say about a union that can only gain a median income of $7,382 annually for its members when one considers the total number of entertainment dollars out there?

Well, so much for today’s analysis. I’ve got to get to my AEA job in a few hours. It looks like in this 11-12 season I may pull in about $5,000. I’m one of the lucky ones.  -twl

Goethe’s final words: “More light.” Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that’s been our unifying cry, “More light.” Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlelight. Neon, incandescent lights that banish the darkness from our caves to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier’s Field. Little tiny flashlights for those books we read under the covers when we’re supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, lead thou me on; the night is dark and I am far from home; lead thou me on. Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge, light is life, light is light.

Chris in the Morning, from the television show Northern Exposure.

And once again, Marilyn and her friends perform the story of The Raven.

Tomorrow begins a stretch of time wherein I will have few days off that are not holidays. I begin rehearsal for The Hostage at the Irish Classical Theatre Company up in Buffalo. Once that opens, I will begin rehearsal for a new play by playwright and poet Red Shuttleworth, High Plains Fandango. By that time I will be performing in one play, rehearsing another, and oh yeah, teaching classes and running the department. Life eases up after Feb. 5 when The Hostage closes. Fandango runs until March 4. Then life eases up a bit. I talked to my father about all this the other day and his response was, “Well, that’s your choice.”

I find these days, though, that I have something of a love-hate relationship with being this busy. I think the reason is that I have come to believe there are many things I would still like to accomplish, but not enough time to accomplish them. Earlier today I was reading this post from my favorite scooter blog, Scooter in the Sticks. The author discusses his new relationship between his love of driving his Vespa, and his recent diagnosis of psoriatic arthritis, a potentially disabling condition. He knows he will have to adapt his riding habits and adapt to his condition. And his age.

It seems to me that the older I have gotten, the more ideas I get of what I want to do. And even as I get these ideas, the realization of how little time is left to accomplish these things is sobering. Just to give you a taste, here is the bucket list as it stands right now:

• Re-invent my department. I would love to create a theatre department that focuses much more on the realities of today’s theatre scene and less on the Broadway dream and the LORT model. My ideal would be a department that is less concerned with producing a theatre season of large-scale productions and more concerned with producing smaller pieces more connected to communities, placing students, designers and performers, in smaller entrepreneurial teams to produce these shows. I’ve sort of run out my own personal desire to put on large-scale shows.
• Start a theatre company. Really. I would like to start a theatre company in Buffalo that was composed of recently graduated Fredonia students (or any local students) and use that theatre to help them continue their training beyond college, giving them a place to practice their craft. I would specialize in new work or, better yet, bringing to Buffalo the best from the NYC indie scene. Mix in some work from local playwrights focusing on the Buffalo community. And use the students to bring in people from the community to help them produce their own work.
• Write a book on acting technique that fuses Spolin improvisation techniques with Stanislavskian acting concepts.
• Get in an RV and travel the country writing reviews of shows from regional theatres all across the country.
• Collaborate with an international artist and bring some international work to Fredonia.
• See the great sites and art of Europe. Add a walking trip to Ireland.
• Take a shot at auditioning for work on the LORT circuit. Why not?
• Retire to Chicago and hook into the theatre scene there.
• Retire to a quiet life in the woods somewhere and forget about everything listed above. Just like Shakespeare.

Of course, many of the things on this list are contradictory. Choices will need to be made. And therein lies the rub. I wonder why, at this stage of my life, these ideas are coming at me now. Why wasn’t I thinking of them 25 years earlier? Was I just so focused on being a good teacher and doing my job well that I wasn’t expansive enough in my thinking? Did living in a rural area cut me off from possibilities and inspiration? Was I so busy raising kids, earning a living, and enjoying Buffalo that all that was satisfying enough? Or am I looking into a future where I will need at some point to fill up the free time? Am I incapable of leading a simple, un-busy life?

Ah well, no sense in worrying about all this now. I’ve got a few busy weeks to get through.  -twl

What was truly inspirational to me, and just as much fun to watch, if not more so than his playing, was the way he came out and interacted with the orchestra. No doubt he’s played this piece of music so many times he can do it in his sleep. So this affords him the opportunity to engage the orchestra in a way few people possibly could.

Yo-Yo Ma with the Fredonia College Orchestra

When he was not playing, he would turn to the violin section or the viola section or the cello section or the wind section and listen to them, but I mean actively listen to them. He would smile, nod in their direction, and even wink at one or two of the student players while they were playing. His demeanor was so infectiously joyous that it became far more than playing the concerto – it turned into having fun while playing the concerto!

When it came time for his solos he was, of course, spot on. He plays vigorously, with great energy and verve, and still manages to take those quiet, elongated notes and get the maximum emotion out of it. He ended almost every small solo moment with a large flourish of his bow, a great combination of showmanship and style. There was one moment he had where he finished a section, but he just seemed to stay with that last note he played far into the following section such that I thought I was continuing to hear that one note by itself even though the orchestra had moved on, because HE was hearing that one note in his heart, even though he had finished playing it ten seconds before. Amazong.

And even when playing with the orchestra, he continued to involve them in every step. He would play and lean into the string section as if physically wanting to join them, playing and looking at the kids right in the eye as they were playing. He was terrific at responding to the solo flutist. Even though he could not turn all the way around to actually see the young lady, you would swear he had eyes in the back of his head, his response was so in tune to her playing.

It was a remarkable demonstration of teaching while playing. He did not come out to play for people, he came out to play with people. So often we all get caught up in that notion that we are out there on the stage doing for other people, and lose sight of the fact that we are out there to play with other people, both on the stage and in the audience. That is a concept that is very hard to actually teach students, so it was so remarkable and so wonderful to see internationally renown Yo-Yo Ma do exactly that right here in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure those young people who got a chance to play with him will not long forget it. I know I won’t. Certainly, for me as a teacher and an actor, it was a joy to see. I only regret that it is so much more difficult to do this in theatre than it is in music. Difficult or not, it’s worth the efffort. -twl

Dunkirk NY

They seem to be quite fashionable lately. Almost everyone I come across these days, either actually or virtually, seems to have a pair. And they seem to wear them no matter what they’re watching or reading. Politics, television, college sports, the economy, theatre – just doesn’t seem to matter. Careers are going well, every show is “outstanding” or “brilliant,” facts are polarized out of view, and all is – well, rosy.

I am really jealous of those that have them. My glasses are bi-focals with only clear lenses. They don’t even have transition lenses. I have to wear OTG (over the glasses) sunglasses when I go out because I can’t really see the sense of paying about $300 to get a pair of sunglasses with my prescription in them. I’ve tried to find the rose-colored ones in the same place I get my OTGs, but every time I go to Wal-Mart, they seem to be sold out, they’re that popular.

I should let you know in advance I will probably need double-strength glasses if they come that way. And you don’t have to bother with making them OTGs for my regular glasses, because I get the feeling they will work that much better if I don’t have my daily glasses on. I need all the help I can get.

If they come in styles or shapes that can be used for particular types of experiences or events, let me know. For example, I can use the style that seems to let millions of Americans view the field of Republican candidates as if there is actually a viable candidate there somewhere. Or, because I tend to lean Democrat, maybe the ones that allowed people to see Obama as the second coming, or perhaps Andrew Cuomo as the friend of the working class would be a good idea.

I can also use the economic style that allows so many Americans to view the economy in a way that does not make them angry. For some reason, every time we have a recession that squeezes out another 14 million jobs from the economy and never replace them, people seem not to see what’s happening around them. I was super-jealous when those glasses-wearing geniuses were able to leverage their houses to buy so many beautiful things!! But the ones that must really be expensive are the ones worn on Wall St., where people seem to be unable to see that the money-making schemes they’ve hatched over the years continually threaten to bankrupt the entire country. They’ve got to be gold-plated as well as rose-colored, no?

The political ones I think may be out of my price range. I presume you have to have those purchased by a lobbyist of some sort.

And, oh, if they don’t cost an arm and a leg, I need some to watch television. I don’t watch a lot of TV, but it seems so many people around me do, and I guess I am missing some world-class stuff.  Two And a Half Men, Two Broke Girls, The Big Bang Theory, CSI, Hawaii Five-O, Glee, Survivor, Fear Factor, The Amazing Race,  and so, so many more. These shows right now are perfectly unwatchable without these glasses. This also goes for movies. They got those 3-D glasses there but they don’t help much, just make me twice as nauseous as I get watching them with my wire rims.  And yes, theatre. I would think these are pretty cheap, since there can’t be too much demand for them. But they would really help me so that I could see why everyone stands after a fairly average show.

And don’t let me forget sports! Wow! So many things must disappear with this style – money, drugs, money, boys getting raped, money, graft, out-of-control fans, out-of-control athletes, crime, and money. The “Penn State” model must be super-effective! I could really enjoy sports again, I think, if I had a pair of these. No doubt I would see men of ethics and character playing sports by the rules for the love of the game. Just think!

There’s probably many more pairs out there that I could use, but on a professor’s salary I doubt I’d be able to afford any more than these. Oh, perhaps one more – the “Retirement Model.” Perhaps those pair will let me look at my retirement accounts without remembering how those Wall St. bastards reduced my savings by 35% three years ago, and let me see that my accounts will be gaining 7% over the next 30 years. Wow, that might be enough incentive to get me to give up blogging!  -twl

Nobody really teaches you how to age; you just go through that experience, flailing and learning as you go. But it’s clear to me that one of the benefits of becoming ever more mature is that you begin to take just about everything in life less seriously. Things just matter less and less. And so everything is just another experience, and that takes off a lot of pressure.

Examples? When I first started out teaching, it was so important to me that my students become successful professional actors. Now, I am very happy if they have a good experience while in my classes and in the department. What they become after they leave here is no longer so important to me as long as they become solid citizens, good people, and have a lot of good memories of doing theatre here.

Acting? I am going to be starting my next show in a few weeks, the role of Monsewer in Behan’s The Hostage. I’m glad to have the experience of doing another role, because acting is fun. Reviews? Who cares? Trying to get the next job from this? Who cares? The fact that it’s in Buffalo NY? Great! Hanging out with theatre people, people I like? Great! If I get another job after this, it will probably be for the experience.

Directing my next show? It’s an original play by an old friend of mine who’s been writing plays since 1986 or so. I did one of his first plays back in 1991. We’re going to have some fun sharing the experience of working again together. Back in 1991, we really were trying to advance both our careers, looking to get the play viewed and marketed. This time around? Just getting the play produced will be enough for both of us. We’ll get together for a few days, drink some whiskey and Sobes, and work with the kids doing the show. Fun. An experience. That’s it.

The profession? Well, despite several attempts to help the profession by analyzing data, it’s clear I will never get my points across to anyone in a position to change thinking in the profession. I am much too small a voice, and I think the profession is far too diverse and fractured to be swayed anyway. And I also think that the profession has too many powerful people with vested interests ensconced in too many key positions who will work very hard to block all attempts to change the status quo. So I don’t mind speaking my mind, but I think I have to let go of any expectations that any of this work will change anything. At least in the immediate future. Years from now, who knows? Evolution is a funny thing. But writing about it is a great experience for me, and I like it. So there. Just no point in engaging in issues seriously, as no one really takes anything but themselves seriously in theatre anyway.

I don’t think I’m really going to stop anything that I am doing. It’s just a matter of seeing things with a different perspective. Less pressure. Less concern. It just doesn’t matter as much now as it used to. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Yup, going all John Lennon these days:

People say I’m crazy doing what I’m doing,
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin,
When I say that I’m o.k. they look at me kind of strange,
Surely you’re not happy now you no longer play the game,

People say I’m lazy dreaming my life away,
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me,
When I tell that I’m doing fine watching shadows on the wall,
Don’t you miss the big time boy you’re no longer on the ball?

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go,

People asking questions lost in confusion,
Well I tell them there’s no problem,
Only solutions,
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I’ve lost my mind,
I tell them there’s no hurry…
I’m just sitting here doing time,

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.

-twl