In case you’ve ever wondered how actors get work, here’s a very basic overview:
Actors are independent contractors, more or less.
We usually work with agents and/or managers, who find and schedule audition appointments, negotiate contracts, and help us shape our careers.
Agents and managers get appointments by contacting casting directors—consultants hired by producers and theatre companies to aid in the casting of shows and seasons; casting directors have relationships with agents, managers, and actors, so their consultancy is incredibly useful.
These casting directors regularly post job listings known as “breakdowns”, which provide descriptions of roles they have been contracted to cast, and agents/managers offer up any clients (actors) who might fit the bill.
If the casting office is interested, the agent/manager gets in touch with the actor to formally schedule an appointment and forward any materials from casting: scenes and/or songs to learn for the audition.
There can be many rounds of auditions, from preliminary sessions to final callbacks; in most cases, the bigger the job, the longer and more thorough the audition process.
At an audition, you’ll always see a representative from the casting office, whether it’s a casting director, associate, or assistant.
[Side note for young actors: treat everybody with the same level of respect, not only to be a decent human, but also out of self-preservation—today’s assistant is tomorrow’s director.]
As the audition process continues, you’re likely to see creatives (directors, choreographers, music directors), theatre administrators (artistic directors, general managers), and/or producers.
When actors are cast, we live in an anxiously happy sort of limbo between the final audition and the first rehearsal. Usually we keep auditioning, even for jobs that conflict with those already on the books–until a contract is signed, nothing is sacred or set in stone. Meanwhile, our agents and managers are negotiating our contracts, and the theatre companies that have hired us are preparing for the start of rehearsals (and holding auditions for later productions).
When rehearsals start, the first day customarily involves a “meet-and-greet” in which everybody involved in the production introduces themselves: not only the aforementioned creatives, theatre administrators, and producers, but also the stage managers, designers, technicians, set/costume shop staff, box office managers, actors, and anybody I’ve inadvertently left out.
I’ve witnessed meet-and-greets in which several dozen people were introduced—and that didn’t include the extensive backstage crew, whom we wouldn’t meet for a few weeks.
So there are many more people involved in theatre than actors—we’re just the most visible (and loudest) aspect. I say all this because most people who aren’t in the industry might have a general idea of what goes into the act of creation, but they often don’t watch the credits or read the program to see just how many people are involved in the making of a single piece of entertainment.
There are so many people employed in theatrical productions, but the economic impact extends beyond theatrical employees. Theatre districts in every major city are home to countless restaurants and bars, which rely on theatregoers for revenue; nearby parking facilities require regular large-scale events in order to stay solvent; childcare workers are regularly employed by parents on date nights–the list goes on.
So the economic contributions of the entertainment industry are multifaceted, and they are great: the National Assembly of State Arts Agencies reports that in 2017, “performing arts companies and independent artists, writers, and entertainers added a combined total of $52.2 billion to the U.S. economy”.
Obviously, this year is quite different.
According to a Brookings Institute report, the COVID-19 pandemic has caused the loss of “2.7 million jobs and more than $150 billion in sales of goods and services for creative industries nationwide…the fine and performing arts industries will be hit hardest, suffering estimated losses of almost 1.4 million jobs and $42.5 billion in sales. These estimated losses represent 50% of all jobs in those industries and more than a quarter of all lost sales nationwide.”
…So it hasn’t been a great year for us.
I wish there were something positive that I could say about the future of the performing arts, but right now we’re all just waiting out the storm—and the longer it takes for the clouds to clear (and for the general public to take precautions seriously), the longer we’ll be without work.
Many of us, myself included, have been on unemployment since March; it’s not ideal and I don’t know anybody who’s proud or cheerful about it, but it’s been a lifeline. Many theatre professionals have families to support, and most of us have rent or mortgage to pay, and unemployment is helping us get through.
We are looking for jobs; we’re assessing our theatrical skill sets and trying to find applicable work that is welcoming to people from a non-traditional background, but there are a lot of people with a lot more experience in the field applying for the same jobs.
And many of us still have plans to return to our pre-pandemic jobs once this is all over. At the start of the pandemic, we were the fortunate ones whose jobs were postponed rather than cancelled; several months later, we’re the ones who thought we’d be starting back up in April, then June, then September, then December—and it’s hard to plan for the future when the future only advances a couple of months at a time.
Some of us have found remote or distanced theatre jobs, but due to the nature of gig work, these jobs don’t last long—maybe a few weeks—before we’re back to unemployment.
At the start of the pandemic, state unemployment (which can run anywhere from $235 to $832 a week, depending on the state) was subsidized by a federal unemployment package of $600 weekly. That ran out in August, and the government has since stalled on attempts to provide further assistance—with the exception of a temporary package from the executive branch, which provided $300 a week for up to six weeks, expiring in mid-September.
Even without federal subsidization, the states have set up extended benefits programs—once an unemployment claim runs out, the filer can qualify for an additional 13 weeks of unemployment…but that extension ends on December 27th. Unless the recently announced vaccines are distributed in full by the end of the year (and they won’t be), theatre professionals will be out of work long after these extended unemployment benefits end.
So what can be done?
We can call our senators; I’ve already done so a few times, and it’s very easy once you set your mind to it. Tell them we need unemployment assistance—whether through federal subsidies or extended state benefits, or a combination of the two—and tell them to pass the DAWN Act (click the links in the next paragraph for more information).
We can support grassroots campaigns like Be An Arts Hero and Save Our Stages; click the links to go to their websites and see how you can help.
We can support each other in this time of crisis, and remember that this is a difficult time for so many of us—now is the time for empathy and outreach. If you know of anybody who’s struggling, let them know that they’re not alone and that we’ll get through this together.
Because we will get through this, but we need assistance in order to do it.