Making theatre could drive a person crazy! I started this newsletter as a way to give a glimpse of a theatrical producer and general manager’s perspective while (hopefully) demystifying the bits of our work which other artists might not see very often. I use it to articulate thoughts - fully-formed and half-formed - rather than present complete answers. If you’re new, you can find out more about me here.
You’ve stumbled across Miscellany which is my semi-regular, currently monthly, previously fortnightly, maybe in future weekly, hodgepodge of bits and pieces that have caught my eye, lingered in my brain, or collected on my desk since the last one. Think of it as an index-card magazine of my brain. As well as these round-ups, I also write longer reads on parts of the producing process that might not normally get a look in in the media, which you can find here.
Grab a cuppa, settle in, share it with anyone who might like to take a look…
There’s been a spate of news reports in recent times of venues being forced to tighten their belts. See for example, the Royal and Derngate and the RSC. Designer of the moment Tom Scutt has also talked about not letting cost-cutting be the cause of minimalist design choices, which although not meant as a major intervention is I think a good example of the fears being expressed by artists all over the place that belts are being tightened too hard.
Set this against the announcement of, in the subsidised world, a new wave of grants for theatre infrastructure (long overdue, but not nearly enough to solve the problem); in the commercial world, the Bridge Theatre contemplating a sale as part of a new wave of investment (details are sketchy, but in any case, they have found themselves raising money); across all corners of the industry: the ongoing war of words over dynamic pricing (which I wrote a bit about last week and also Fergus Morgan has gone into with some more entertaining spice). In New York, the financial picture has meant that producers have struggled to make the numbers make sense for investors: only six new musicals have opened this season and one of them closed as fast as it opened, although that’s also a story of ticket prices, dwindling tourism, dips in attendance, changing tastes and risk tolerance.
I was particularly interested in the RSC comments about not limiting ambition just because costs are being cut, which led to writing this, and so what follows is no criticism of Scutt - who is fantastic and very much knows what he’s talking about - or anyone else, but rather a response to the general feeling that I and others are hearing from artists.
Where does it all land? The truth: producing theatre has gotten a whole lot more expensive in the years since Covid, a whole lot faster than it did in the couple of decades previous. You’re probably bored of hearing producers saying that by now - after all “rising costs” has been the mantra since at least 2022, and before that it was “mothballing during Covid is impossible” and before that it was “Brexit/austerity/the financial crash has ruined everything”. By now everybody working in theatre at every level and across every scale knows that costs have risen (yes, the price of wood, yes, the cost of employing people, I know you’re sick of hearing it, but the truth is the truth.) Yet the inescapable fact is at some point we are going to have to change what it is we’re trying to create.
I’m choosing my words carefully here but you may also have heard complaints about shows not having enough swings or understudies, shows not having adequate stage management cover, or shows struggling to provide holiday when workers would like it. And of course Equity is threatening strike action over pay, because they feel that workers aren’t getting a fair deal. All of this is the result of financial pressure which we are by no means near the end of.
I’m in the middle at the moment of general managing a workshop for a new musical which is set in the 1940s and very reminiscent of those golden age musicals we all fell in love with when we first fell in love with theatre. But where My Fair Lady or 42nd Street boasted orchestras of 25+ musicians and companies upwards of 30 actors, this musical has 13 in the cast and could have a band as small as four. Is it any less powerful or impactful? I would argue it’s just as effective in its execution, but it’s been written by an author who is very conscious of the changing landscape of theatre and has purposely limited the scope of her project to make it produceable.
There’s no escaping it though. This musical will employ fewer people, have a smaller set, and limit its logistical ambitions, because the feeling of the team behind it is that that’s the best way to get it on to the stage. There is certainly something to mourn there - you can’t ever really beat the wall of sound created by a few dozen singers over the top of a couple of dozen musicians. But then you could never really squeeze all those people into a smaller venue, either.
I fear we’re at risk of comparing apples with oranges when it comes to talking about tightening costs and limiting ambition. The shows of the 20th century were created under very different conditions to the ones created now. When Gilbert and Sullivan or Rodgers and Hammerstein or Boublil and Schoenberg or Kander and Ebb were at the peak of their powers, the unions were far less effective at collective bargaining, the number of producers trying to put on work was much smaller, and the ebb and flow of large productions was very different. The working conditions were nowhere near as regulated as they are now, and the amounts that the ‘ordinary worker’ got paid weren’t comparable to those of today. Indeed, there wasn’t even a minimum wage in the UK back then.
That’s not to say producing or financing a show was easy, of course it wasn’t, but it was a different climate. The commercial model as it operates today is broadly based on the model honed and refined by the mega musical of the 1970s and 1980s, but using contracts that those musicals could never have comprehended, a ticketing model that has evolved into its own beast of deductions and skimming off the top, and an economic climate that has pivoted from crisis to crisis over 15 years. It is a very good thing that people are paid more fairly, treated more equitably, and allowed to take holidays and go off sick. It is a very good thing that Covid taught us the show doesn’t always need to go on when it’s to the detriment of everyone involved. It’s a very good thing that austerity forced us to broaden our horizons for how work is funded.
Yet we risk trying to have our cake and eat it if we think that we can still create Les Miserables today as the standard musical and not the exceptional, once in a decade event that it was. Not every show can be Paddington, but nor should it be. The main reason that Six has run as long as it has it that it has a small cast and band and limited physical production - and that is a good thing for the future of theatre. Audiences don’t love Six any less than they love My Fair Lady - they’re simply different. Ambition means many things, but it doesn’t always have to mean maximalism. Last year’s Fringe hit Eat the Rich was still ambitious for all its small-scale charm - we are reductive if we think it’s just about how many people are on stage and how much the set cost.
But if we continue to insist on having those things, we are now in a position where we have to cut corners to make them happen. That doesn’t just mean prosecco instead of Bollinger at press night or a slightly rougher rehearsal room - those things are marginal in the grand scheme. It means having not enough understudies, no room in the schedule for holiday, and a set that falls apart after a few months. Is that worth it, or is it better to simplify the set or limit the cast size?
We keep trying to spread the money thinly, with every department slowly seeing its budget chipped away at and being upset at that fact. Yet we keep adding departments - video (thanks, Ivo van Hove), puppetry (thanks, War Horse), roller skates (thanks, Starlight Express). We cannot keep trying to make the shows bigger and then being surprised that they’re too expensive.
Dare I suggest the same problem exists with ACE funding? Would we have a better funding system if fewer organisations were funded more comprehensively instead of every organisation fighting over scraps that don’t cover their costs? That’s a dangerous thought.
This is of course a back-of-an-envelope ramble without a firm conclusion, but where I get to is this: we can’t keep trying to make Les Mis if we can’t afford it. There’s plenty of other routes to making meaningful, inspiring, passion-filled work.
Live Nation’s ownership of Ticketmaster represents a monopoly. (Duh.)
Choreographers and movement directors should get separate awards. (Duh.)
In theatre-on-TV news: high viewership of the Oliviers klaxon & Sam Ryder broke the Palladium box office.
I really enjoyed this interview with Kae Tempest and this one with Jane Krakowski.
As mentioned, Equity is threatening strikes and work-to-rule actions (again) over the latest SOLT negotiations (which I’m not giving all my thoughts on right now because… well… I’m protecting my peace).
And finally, after much consternation, earlier this month I published the Substack post I have been procrastinating on writing, all about how Greek artists are being sidelined, despite the renaissance in Ancient Greek stories being told, and why I think they need to be invited to take a seat at the table. If you haven’t read it, I’d love it if you would, and share it too: it’s here. (In personal news: I’m hoping that I’ll have something to announce on this front in the next year or so…).
Last time I did an overview of the main theatre unions. This time, an overview of the main trade associations for venues and producers…
The Society of London Theatre (SOLT) is the body representing West End producers and West End theatres. There are also associate venues, which are venues which are in London but not considered “West End”, but can pay a levy to be eligible for Olivier Awards, and associate producer members, who are not yet West End producers but well on their way. SOLT negotiates agreements with all the main theatrical unions for workers in the West End (the associate venues use the UK Theatre agreements). Membership is by nomination and via a somewhat secretive process and criteria, but essentially involves putting yourself forward and hoping for the decision makers to rule in your favour. Oddly, SOLT does not count general managers amongst its membership, although many GMs either work for producers who are SOLT members - so get some access - or are members by virtue of also producing shows.
UK Theatre (UKT) is the sister organisation of SOLT - based in the same offices, using many of the same staff, but with a much more varied membership of theatres and producers from across the country (and some in London too). They also negotiate agreements for the subsidised and commercial worlds, and they represent a much more diverse and varied group of organisations. Membership is by application, and the criteria are online: the main thing members need to consider is whether they can adopt the contracts. Unlike SOLT, there are plenty of general management professionals and organisations who are UK Theatre members.
The Independent Theatre Council (ITC) is in some ways an alternative to SOLT/UKT but is primarily made up of smaller subsidised organisations or smaller touring companies who don’t really fit into the UK Theatre structure. They have a more personal, dynamic relationship with their members, but they’re also much smaller and scrappier. Their union agreements are different - broadly, they’re shorter and simpler - to SOLT/UKT’s, and members are less rigorously held to them. Membership is, again, by application.
The London Theatre Consortium (LTC) is a closed group of premier producing venues in London, largely independent subsidised organisations of the sort comparable with the various flagship regional theatres around the country. The LTC coordinates and shares information between its members, but it doesn’t have collective bargaining in place, and is more of a resource-sharing kind of organisation. Most LTC members are also SOLT or UKT members.
The League of Independent Producers (LIP) - of which I’m a member - is a group of producers of all sizes and scales from across the country (and some US producers with an interest in UK producing, too), who are not associated to venues. So while the membership overlaps with SOLT/UKT, it doesn’t include, for example, the producers at ATG, LW Theatres, or Nimax. LIP doesn’t have collective agreements nor is it a body ‘of one mind’ - it’s more of a collective of organisations who can share notes or concerns with one another. LIP does a lot of work with UKT and SOLT informally, but it’s also a useful way for producers to get together to discuss issues without venues in the room - which is one of the downfalls of SOLT/UKT, which has to sometimes represent two groups who can be occasionally at odds with one another or have competing interests (often leading to stalemates).
Ride the Cyclone is coming back! After a sell out run, it’s back this summer at Southwark Playhouse. You probably don’t need me to tell you anything about it, but you do need to book early if you want to see it.
That’s all folks! Thanks for making it to the end. If you liked what you read, please do subscribe and share. If you didn’t, please just leave me shouting into the void. Whatever you like.
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