rant for theatre artists

There are currently THREE major development jobs open at theatres in the San Diego area. Two are Director positions, which means the ideal candidate would be able to lead the development (fund-raising) efforts for the entire institution. The third is responsible for corporate donations at that theatre. All three are well paying, full-time jobs, offering an array of benefits. Why is this important, and why am I writing about it?

Development departments have always been important to not-for-profit theatres- they can only afford to run their seasons with ample support from donors. It sounds quaint and non-alarming: an individual, family, or business decides that they would like to give some money to their favorite local theatre. They enjoy seeing shows there, and they realize that ticket sales don't cover the costs of putting on a play. (Musicals cost even more.) And in all cases, the artists employed by the theatres appreciate every donation that comes in, whether it be for $5 or $5 million. It is the downside of lacking a true national theatre program, and we will all have to deal with it throughout our theatrical careers. But at what point does a fund-raising development department become more important than, say, a theatre's education department? How about the artistic department? There is no way that a development staff is more valued by CEO's and managing directors than the artistic staff. Right?

We need to be worried. As artists, whether we are writers, actors, directors, designers or teachers, we need to be worried that the development departments of local theatres (LORT and non-Equity alike) are growing at a pace unparalleled in the history of theatre, despite a recession that is starving the theatre business as a whole. Individuals who may have been inclined to give small donations (under, let's say, $1,000) are double-checking their checkbooks. The small donations are evaporating. I should know. I can't even match my rather anemic 2008 donation of $15 to the Magic Theater in San Francisco. So where does a theatre's development department go to raise enough to cover the loss of 50 $1,000 donations? You guessed it. Corporations and the mega-rich.

Why would a corporation or wealthy individual give to a theatre? It is not an investment; they will not see any returns from ticket sales or merchandising. There are three answers to this question. The first, and hopefully (but probably not) the most accurate answer is that they felt that it was the right thing to do. They love the theatre, and they understand it's important role in a community. They just want to keep the curtain up. Oh, how I wish it were so simple. The second reason: taxes. Deductions. Sure, one could argue that it is great that money that would be given to the Government is given to local theatres instead. But with those donations, the control of the artists is taken away. Board members are elected, usually based on donation status. Those board members choose the upper echelon of theatre management, namely CEO's and Artistic Directors. We would have to be blind not to notice that corporations and wealthy donors OWN the American theatre. They have a heavy hand in who is in charge, which shows they choose, and who they choose to direct, design and perform them. Which brings me to reason number three: They donate to have control. A chairperson of the board at a LORT theatre has an astounding amount of influence and control. Their names are everywhere. Lobbies, stages, administrative buildings, and plazas are all "named" to pay tribute to donors. If you attend a play at the Old Globe in San Diego, for instance, you first cross Copley Plaza (with the requisite donor paver stones), have a latte at Lady Carolyn's Pub, located beneath the Donald and Darlene Shiley Terrace (porch) within the Karen and Donald Cohn Education Center (which also houses the Harvey and Sheryl White Theatre). Or, if you can afford it, you might join the Lipinsky Family Suite. When the lights flash, you head through the Jane and Victor Ottenstein Lobby, and sit before the Donald and Darlene Shiley Stage at the Old Globe Theatre. At the Conrad Prebys Theatre Center. Got all that? Don't worry. If you forget, there is ample signage to remind (or confuse) you. Oh, and for you curious creative types out there- none of the above designations refer to artists, past or present. All donors and board members. Why not name it the Craig Noel Theatre Center? He was, after all, responsible for keeping the theatre going for seven decades, directing countless shows, and spear-heading a rebuilding effort (which demonstrated the positive effects of development) after the original building burned down in the late 70's.

How could raising money for theatres be bad? It's not. But it is dangerous when developmental achievements becomes more important than artistic achievements. When names on buildings mean more than the art being created within. When tearing down a historic theatre that audiences adored to build a shiny new space (to the tune of $70 MILLION, during a "recession") becomes more important than keeping your full staff employed at competitive wages. But how do you raise that $70 million without promising the super-rich a place to put their names?

What happens to theatres when development and marketing staff begin to out-number artistic and education staff? Money becomes the measuring stick of success. Not community education, not production of challenging works, not artistic fulfillment. LORT theatres begin to gamble on Broadway success (a whole different rant), CEO's drive luxury sedans, and literary managers get laid off.

My challenge to donors (who will never read this): you are willing to donate millions to have your name in lights; are you willing to donate millions to save jobs, and forgo the opportunity to have your name splattered on our artistic institutions?

My challenge to theatres: you are willing to hire young, bright people to pry money out of the stingiest of hands; are you willing to hire young, bright people to maintain the integrity of your productions?

A theatre that does not, at every opportunity, challenge and educate it's community is no better than a giant, manually-powered television set. As a writer, I would much prefer to have my shows staged off-off Broadway, far from LORT, using minimal sets and costumes, rather than relinquish control of my stories to the hands of the CEO's and Board members of the big regional houses. They take all the magic out of the theatre.