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Diversity + Theatre Form

Milton Lim speaking into a mic at a podium.
Milton Lim accepting the Ray Michal Prize for Most Promising New Director, photo by Mark Halliday.

Socially, politically, and ethically, celebrating diversity is part of the cultural zeitgeist of our time. It is simultaneously tied to our Canadian histories, greater global discourse, and the relevance/permanence of the artistic discipline of theatre in the 21st century.

This past Monday, the Jessie Richardson Awards took place and the development since last year was clear. The juries, the leadership, and the work that was being discussed have all undergone significant shifts following last year’s spark in discussion and advocacy. Yet, I would like to believe that we are not naive: there is still work to do.

The following is an acceptance speech that I delivered at the Jessie Richardson Awards on June 28th, 2016:

” Good evening. First, thank you to the jury for considering me — as someone who makes contemporary/experimental theatre, I greatly appreciate the recognition, both for my artistic practice and that of my peers which I feel, does not often have a place at these award ceremonies.

First, to all of my collaborators: thank you for your brilliance and criticality, I continue to be inspired by you. Over the last year, there has been a large and great discussion about diversity in the theatre.

In these cases, when we speak about diversity, most people deal in the materials of: [1] the politicized human body (casting protocol, having more POC on stage) and [2] content (whose stories we are telling). My hope is that we can move forward also dealing with [3] diversity in form. That our perceptions and our expectations of what theatre can look like, will not have to fit into the Western or European constructs that most of us learned in theatre school and/or the proven model that is selling tickets to the aging subscription audience.

I look forward to seeing and supporting more work that is theatre performance that does not rely on English, theatre that does not depend on the able-bodied performer, theatre that is not filtered through heterosexism, theatre that celebrates the vast cultural histories around us, and ultimately, theatre whose form challenges the very notions of what theatre can look and feel like. I believe in the necessity of carving out new spaces, rather than trying to fit the mould of white, male, mainstream theatre.

I personally don’t believe that the Jessies help in carving out this new space for the marginalized. In fact, I often perceive it as something in the way, something that preserves the existing hierarchy. Though beyond this one award ceremony, I must admit that I do believe in the people, the community, and most especially the next generation of artists. So to the strongly voiced and passionate collective who came together to change the Jessies and by proxy, the theatre community: thank you. Let us transform the theatre.”

In general: yes, we should rethink the structure and makeup of artistic leadership, yes to more open-minded casting decisions, and yes to creating avenues for sharing the narratives, experiences, and spaces of marginalized peoples. Though in a time when ‘diversity’ and ‘equity’ are buzzwords that also happen to look great on grant applications, I’d like to highlight the potential danger of white mainstream theatre form masquerading as diverse theatre.

Even if we see more POC telling their stories on stage, if the materials and forms are still of the Western/European hegemony, then we’re stuck with mere substitution and assimilation. Worse still, the very apparatus of the theatre becomes/stays invisible and we condition ourselves to believe that theatre form is synonymous with act structure, always serving a narrative/story/script, dependant on a hierarchy on the creative team, conflict that is predominantly navigated via text, etc.

And this is not to ask that we essentialize marginalized identities and practices, but instead, that we encourage diversity in the theatre as the conduit that disrupts and transforms our fundamental modes of operation.

So what does that look like?

Rabih Mroué sitting at a desk on stage, with several square projections of video behind him.
Rabih Mroué performing his piece Pixelated Revolution. Photo credit to Staatstheater Kassel.

I think it starts with challenging certain assumptions we may have about how theatre ‘works’; if we remove certain notions about what is necessary in the theatre, we can allow other artistic disciplines/apparatuses to find space in the theatre. Perhaps a theatre without conflict, without actors, without the letter ‘e’, without a director — the list goes on. I have no idea what it looks like, but it’s more exciting than the status quo. How will we know when it’s working? I’d like to believe that there will be more fighting about whether or not the work can even be legitimized as a piece of theatre.

In 2012, I wrestled with the non-theatricality of Rabih Mroué’s Pixelated Revolution (1) at the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival. I couldn’t parse my feelings about his work as a piece of theatre, when all I could perceive was the presentation of a paper with some video support.

It took a long conversation with a friend, before I was hit by the cultural significance of subversive lecture-style theatre; creating a space of covert transgression that could be perceived as problematic by other methods. It was something I rarely think of in the privileged safety and ‘freedom’ of the West. The piece stuck with me for a long time.

The landscape is changing. When we speak about systemic barriers related to diversity, we need to consider the very form of theatre, otherwise, we’re missing the full range of what theatre can be.

I personally hope for the values of destruction and transformation in art: performance that is not simply made through synthesis or mimesis, but deep reformation that comes out of having cut away the foundations we were previously standing on top of.


(1) The Pixelated Revolution is part performance, part non-traditional lecture, examining the use of camera phones in capturing and disseminating first-hand experiences of the Syrian revolution, while exploring the role of social media in sharing and proliferating those images from the front line. http://pushfestival.ca/shows/pixelated-revolution/

Stewart Legere

Okay. How my body and is about how I always think about it. Am I good son? How can I tell you if I didn’t like it? How often do I lie? How I was really, really attracted to that statue at the park. How I cried at the parade. How love is love misses the point which is actually more just sex is sex. How can I excuse myself from exhausting conversations? How can I be more easy? How can I break my patterns? How can I have a good time at the barbeque? How listening is hearing something I don’t agree with and not immediately opening my mouth. Can you give up without losing?

Hi, I’m Stewart Legere and this is my second thought. If I have to remember something fast, I will send myself a text. And these are the last number of texts I have sent myself. A Montreal phone number. What appears to be an Oklahoma phone number. Send Sue updated bio. The book of salt. The Salvation army. Bike rack. He can split a nine-dollar bill into 3 parts. Dress from Louisa. This is my star. Water bearers. Slow learners. Bipocalyse. A picture of me eating a popsicle. Text Karen. Sound advice. Never mirror. A picture of Snow White singing with a caption under it saying “this could be you” underneath. Your money is under the mattress. A drifting hunter. A picture of an empty room. A naked picture of myself. Women’s hats through time.

Hi, this is Stewart Legere and here’s my third thought. I have been away from home for 2 months, and last night was the first full night I spent home alone in my apartment. I looked around and these are some things that stood out to me. On a shelf a ceramic urn I took from my grandmother’s house before she died inside there’s 2 dried roses one for me and one I was supposed to give to someone – I forget who. On my fridge a card that says if you can practice even while distracted you are well trained. On my fridge a picture of me drawn by a friend’s kid in it I am holding a glass of wine as big as my head. A piece of origami I bought from a kid at the market she says it was of a dinosaur’s foot, but I honestly don’t see it. The beautiful writing desk, given to me by Tyler before he left for Chicago. A painting of a swing set balancing on the edge of a volcano. I used to have another one in the series of a swing set floating in deep spaceI wonder where that went.

Hi, I’m Stewart Legere and this is my fourth thought.
This morning I woke up thinking about new year’s. I really don’t make resolutions because I am HO, guilt is bullshit and a very poor motivator,
But I do love new years
I love the arbitrary reboot of intention
A few years ago, in a moment of weakness, I broke tradition and resolved this at midnight
This year Don’t take unsolicited advice, parentheses, to heart
Last year I did it again I wrote myself a poem and read it aloud to myself at midnight. It read
“This year, a reminder, you are mostly the inside parts.”

Hi, I’m Stewart Legere and this is my fifth thought.

An example of something I might say to myself or share with someone else so they could say it to themselves… if either of us thought we needed it, and if we thought that it was true.

Hey, sit calmly inside whatever you do. Outside that is chaos but inside that is calm and inside the calm a fucking storm and inside the storm a dead silent pool inside that an awful fire, inside that a whole new sky inside that a brawl…and somewhere inside the inside the inside under a pile of garbage unsuspecting…Just what I always wanted to say, just what I always meant to say, just what I always longed to be.

Hi, I’m Stewart Legere and this is my sixth thought. I have a game with my friends, list funny things to do while crying: Crying while peeling an orange, crying while playing marbles, crying while swimming. Now I am thinking about all the different things that can make you cry: Ending a relationship, death, stubbing your toe, fear and cutting onions, nostalgia, on and on. The first time I can remember seeing my dad cry I was a little kid and my cousin and I were out in the country and we wandered off and got lost in the woods for hours. It was dark. Eventually we found the road, picked a direction and walked back to what we hoped was home. Hours later we heard someone calling our names, and there was my dad, flashlight, searching and crying in the road. It was also the first time I remember hearing him swear. You scared the shit out of me. I am not going to have children and it strikes me that my child getting lost is one thing that will never make me cry.

Hi, I’m Stewart Legere and this is my seventh thought.
There is a tall curved restaurant that sits on top of a hotel in my home town. A few years ago I was walking down the street and it came into view, and I thought…hunh…that’s not a rotating restaurant. I’m 33 years old. As a child I must have learned that rotating restaurants were round and this building is round so I just assumed, and never went back in, to correct the thought. It’s not that I actively thought the restaurant ontop of the hotel was rotating – of course I knew it wasn’t – but the germ of the thought still lived in my brain and it took an active intervention to fix it because I never went in and clarified some young small part of me still held this silly little thought to be true. I wonder how many of those are in there? Probably a lot. Probably many. I’m sure some of them are cute, like that one, and I’m sure many aren’t. Where are the ones that affect the way I feel about people I have never met? What about the ones that collect and collect and influence how I see the world and my place in it? I need to go in there. I need to catch them all. This is probably going to take a while. I should get to work.

hi my name is stewart legere and this is my 8th thought
today i worked in a building from early morning until nightfall
twelve hours
i arrived when the building was full, and didn’t leave until long after it emptied out
so that has me thinking about
life-spans
and i’m reminded of my parents’ marriage
and how flowers open and close
and about fruit flies
dead friends
dead friendships
bad ideas
best before dates
electronics
half lives
epochs
prejudices
fashion
drunkenness
orgasms
romances
how long food stays hot
flights (more specifically the time in between accelerating and taking off)
the time in between eating and feeling full
how long i think about what you say when you tell me how you feel
and now i’m thinking about formulas
how they can describe the birth and death of a problem
and how we long for elegance in their expression
and about sleep
and how it is a fertilizer
you know
life spans

hi i’m stewart legere and this is my 8th thought.
Well…thought 8.1. I cheated today and I have two.
8.1.
what to do?

go dancing, go to shows, see friends, go to things
or get in the car and leave. go camping. visit my mom. find a lake.

this feeling:
when i’m in a city a need to be part of it
compelled to get out, to sit in cafes, show up at events, be an active participant in the fray –
not always central to the action, but a proud and present cog.

conversely, when i’m in the country, or travelling far away from home,
this feeling i could be happily absorbed into the green, or the blue, never to return to civilization
sell it all – metaphorically (i don’t have anything to sell)

what is the word for that feeling? that pull in different directions?

i know on some level, as a queer person, i want to be seen
because i spent an unrefundable portion of my life unseen

but what about that other, seemingly opposite thing? the desire to be absorbed?
the undeniable suspicion i get when walking in a field,
for example, that i could happily keep walking away and never look back?

some days i long to be racing in the race
and some days i want to be the man disappearing down the dusty dirt road

and this is thought 8.2

i’m contemplating my inner voice today
it always says
you’re right
but here’s what i’m thinking:
that can’t be true.

hi i’m stewart legere and this is my 10th thought

i took the sentence
“what would we do without each other”
and put it into an anagram generator

an anagram is a word or phrase formed by rearranging the letters of another.
people often interpret the new word or phrase to deepen their understanding of the original.
often these same people believe in god
or astrology
or psychics
or that the moon landing didn’t happen
but not always

so for example you could take the word
morning
and make it
gin, norm.
and then say something like “sounds about right”
or something like that.

anyway i took the sentence
“what would we do without each other”
and put it into an anagram generator

it spit out hundreds and hundreds of new words and phrases
in myriad combinations
and none of them made any sense at all.

today i’m thinking about
tearing things apart
and building things from the pieces
sometimes the new thing is vaguely familiar
like how a baby can look like your great great grandfather
and sometimes it’s just…not
and you have to learn to love it
from scratch

hi i’m stewart legere and this is my 11th, and penultimate, thought
which is really just a memory

about three years ago i was artist in residence at videofag
the – now closed – queer performance space in kensington market, in toronto.

i was sitting alone in the middle of the space
in the middle of the night
at a table, drinking wine
writing
it was valentine’s day.
it was the night ellen page came out
earlier, i had been waiting for a guy to come meet me for a date
but i wasn’t waiting any more
it was clear he wasn’t coming
i remember how quiet it was
and the glow from my computer screen
i remember crying
and feeling very happy to be queer
i remember the wine was dry
i remember looking outside and seeing someone i knew from halifax jumping a fence across the street
and thinking
“we’re 2000 kms away from home, but i’m not going to wave”

it was one of those super rare moments in life where
everything felt clear and everything felt balanced
i felt so alive
i felt so lonely
and so sad
but so happy
very conflicted
very excited
i felt supported
but also abandoned
i was broke
but content
i was worried
i was ready

maybe like what the feeling feels like right before you bungie jump
or when you eat something that’s hot in some places and cold in others

i remember thinking
i can do this
feeling equally brave and like a liar

and, looking back, i was probably basically right

hi i’m stewart legere and this is my 12th and final thought i have a tattoo on my back, in between my shoulder blades.
it’s four words, stacked on top of each other:
believe
behave
behold
become
it’s something a mentor said to me years ago and for whatever particular reason
whatever alchemy they have always had a profound resonance with me for years, before i went onstage, i’d reach my arm awkwardly around my back, touch the tattoo and think to myself
“believe everything you are about to do. behave as though you do. behold the world around you. become the thing you want to become”
it was all very complicated and i can’t be sure it ever worked.
i don’t really do that anymore, because my rituals have changed, i guess
but more and more i find myself thinking about the words in my day to day
like:
“believe people when they tell you about themselves”…
“behave” is now more like “un-behave”
like – notice the moments when i add shit i don’t need, when i say things i don’t mean, when i lie.
“behold” i mostly just repeat and repeat.
“behold behold behold.”
and “become”…remains elusive. probably as it should.
i don’t know.
honestly, the poem is so much better without the explanation.
the poem resonates.
the poem endures.
the poem abides.
the poem is a secret.
the poem is the thing.
i imagine you have one,
right?
maybe just show it to me. don’t explain it.
it’s better that way.

PlayME Summer Shorts Series: Benji Hayword

A father’s obsession with the tragic death of a Toronto teen leads to his son’s public humiliation. Family roles blur when he takes LSD at Ontario Place.

Part of PlayME’s Summer Shorts Series.

Benji Hayward is written by Jennifer McKinley, performed by Raoul Bhaneja. 

PlayME Summer Short Series: The Timekeeper

The Timekeeper is a dark, quirky comedy about a man who fears he is running about of time.

Part of PlayME’s Summer Shorts series.

Written by Roy Lee Rabideau, performed by Eric Peterson. 

 

Theory: Episode 4 – the Interview

Chris talks with the playwright of Theory, Norman Yeung, about a broad range of topics including diversity and race in theatre, liberalism, censorship and the fine line between the legal and illegal in graffiti art.

Norman Yeung works in theatre, film, and visual arts. His play “Theory” won First Place in the Herman Voaden National Playwriting Competition in 2015. “Deirdre Dear” premiered at the Neil LaBute New Theater Festival in St. Louis. “Pu-Erh” premiered at Theatre Passe Muraille in Toronto and was nominated for four Dora Mavor Moore Awards, including Outstanding New Play. “Pu-Erh” was a Herman Voaden finalist in 2009. He was a member of Canadian Stage’s BASH! artist development program, fu-GEN’s Kitchen Playwrights Unit, and Tapestry New Opera’s Composer-Librettist Laboratory. He is featured in the book “Voices Rising: Asian Canadian Cultural Activism” by Xiaoping Li.

 

Theatrical Oligopoly

Graffiti featuring Monopoly Man asking for taxes.
Graffiti in Detroit. Credit to www.bbandm.wordpress.com.

In Thomas Piketty’s recent work Capital in the 21st Century, the renowned French economist articulates the inherent process of wealth in a capitalist state being funneled into fewer and fewer hands over time. This is an exponential process as the increasing concentration of wealth (and therefore power) allows those who possess wealth to reconstruct their society in order to maintain and expand these conditions. This results in oligopoly–a state of limited competition–in which a market is shared by a small number of producers or sellers. This is the the modern form of capitalism. Given the significant impact capitalism has on the modern world, not just materially ideologically, it is vital to look how the dynamics of capitalism are reflected in every facet of our world.

We have a theatrical oligopoly in this country. There are a number of large companies that support themselves either through private donations and/or disproportionate amounts of funding from all levels of government. Stratford, Shaw and Soulpepper are three companies with resources beyond the imagination of the majority of theatremakers in this country. Full disclosure, I spent a period of my life on Soulpepper’s payroll and I saw first hand the benefits that their monetary scale has for the artists it employs. It was a very fruitful two years and the income security allowed me to grow as an artist and a person. It is nevertheless worthwhile to consider the effect that institutions of this size have on the broader theatre ecology.

These theatres have specific implicit or explicit bias as to what is interesting, what is worth putting on stage, and how to best convey that. They have, to greater or lesser degrees depending on the day, something like an theatrical aesthetic. This is fine and good: theatres should have aesthetics. However, the amount of influence these large theatres wield means that their aesthetic soon becomes everyone’s aesthetic. You can see evidence of this process at just about any indie theatre in Toronto. The basements and storefronts of this city might be thought of as places of bold experimentation. Instead they’re formally indistinguishable from the 20th century realism of major theatres. This is not a coincidence.

I noted on my first day of Soulpepper the number of artists at the company who had children. These children were often the offspring of two theatre artists. It amazed me that this theatre allowed artists to have children, own homes, take vacations. I’m still impressed by it. This theatre offers the dream of being a professional artist, not a professional server who makes a lot of art. It’s one of the few places in this country that allows access to this kind of dream. This means that many of the artists who want to achieve this dream are going to, consciously or unconsciously, become the actor, the writer, the designer, the director that Soulpepper needs: to become good in the very particular way that those who live this dream are good.

No university or college in this country is free from the anything-for-profit model of neo-liberalism. Post-secondary theatre programs are often fighting for their lives and so must continually prove their relevance to capital or risk having the program axed. One way to demonstrate this is by showing that their graduates land roles at major theatres. In order to ensure this occurs the curriculums will be turned towards producing actors that will be taken by the three S-theatres.

In my time at the Soulpepper I witnessed the students at George Brown College doing substantive amounts of work on Restoration Comedies and Wildean farces–neither of which make up the majority of the work in the Canadian theatre landscape, but both of which do make up a significant amount of the jobs at the Shaw and Stratford. Even though the majority of theatre school graduates will never have the chance to don fake moles and frolic around the stages of Stratford and Shaw or don the mid-century straight, white, male weltenschmerz of a Soulpepper production, the fact they’re all educated with these theatres as their ultimate goal has a significant effect on what students are taught. Moreover, it shapes fundamentally how they learn to think of themselves as artists.

Audiences are not exempt from being shaped into the kinds of audiences that these theatres want them to be. The S theatres, by dint of their scale, have the greatest ability to draw audiences. This draw is a combination of being able to hire well-known and well-respected artists, create shows with high production values, create comfortable and enjoyable performance spaces and to advertise their work so that it may be seen by more than the friends and family of the artists involved. The more audiences are fed on a diet of one theatre’s menu (as delicious and nutritious as that theatre’s fare may be) the more likely that audience will be to consider that menu as the only one. If the only place that an audience can see great actors supported by great production values is in a scant couple of large theatres audiences will begin to believe that the specific aesthetic viewpoint shown there is theatre and anything else is an aberration.

Being “anything else” is especially difficult for traditionally underrepresented groups. Shaw’s 2016 season features eight plays by men and two by women (with one of the two being a Chekhov adaptation). 92% of Stratford’s 2016 season has been written by men. Of Soulpepper’s 14-play January-August season two plays weren’t written by a man (and one of those was written by two women and a man). All three theatres are certainly working to increase the diversity in their cast and creative teams: Soulpepper has recently announced the big and small screen adaptation of Kim’s Convenience by Korean-Canadian playwright Ins Choi. The Shaw festival has gender parity in their directors and several of these directors are people of colour. Stratford went so far as to cast Araya Mengesha as Prince Hal in Breath of Kings their compilation/adaptation of Shakespeare’s history plays. Regardless, the problem of representation is built into the foundation of these theatres.

Stratford is focused on a Englishman from the 16th and 17th century. Shaw is focused on their namesake, his contemporaries and plays that occur within his lifetime. Soulpepper’s mandate is perform “modern classics”. Although Soulpepper’s mandate is flexible enough to allow writers like Choi and Suzan Lori-Parks the spiritual centre of the company lives in works like their recent production of Arthur Miller’s Incident at Vichy. These mandates, in the hands of the country’s most powerful companies, keep the artistic resources of some of our best artists tied up in the work of writers who are predominantly men, predominantly white, predominantly dead. This goes beyond the idea of representation of artists on and off stage. These dead white men carry with them values and ideologies of times long past. So long as the narratives and perspectives remain dominant in our theatre they will remain dominant in our culture.

Our theatrical oligopoly exists for the same reason the corporate oligopoly exists: the natural tendency for unchecked power to reinforce and solidify itself until it reaches a point of total, hegemonic dominance. I’ve been hosting a series of conversations with theatre makers in Toronto to discuss capitalism, colonialism and other topics of a political nature. At one of the meetings one of the attendees said, “So… what do we do?”. My answer is the same whether it’s corporate oligopoly or theatrical: agitate, educate, organize.

Briefing Notes for Hiring Committees

Board Room Table

We’re in the middle of a major shift in artistic leadership in Canada. A vacancy at London’s Grand Theatre made way for a shift at Theatre Calgary; A vacancy at the Citadel then made its way West to us in BC at Western Canada Theatre. Two other major jobs are available here in Vancouver – Touchstone Theatre and Theatre La Seizieme.  This week, Magnetic North. This may be just the first wave of some significant changeover in leadership. In the arts community, we talk about change a lot – and this is an opportunity for organizations to be transformed from the top down. We also talk about responsibility – and with a change in leadership comes a temporary change in who holds the responsibility.

Will some of these positions go to women and/or artists of colour and/or artists with disabilities? If not, to someone committed to cultivating and showcasing such artists?  The decisions lie with the hiring committees of these organizations, likely assembled from board members, current or former staff members, or members of the community.

I’d imagine they’re going to talk about the candidates’ artistic vision, their body of work, experience with large organizations. But will they discuss candidate track records and vision for cultivating and promoting work from women, people of colour and artists with disabilities? Will they be cognizant of the opportunity to break the overwhelmingly white, male majority of artistic leadership in Canada? I argue championing these values is more than a matter of ‘optics’ or ‘political correctness’ – it’s an imperative for the viability of these organizations.

In today’s theatre ecology, creating a diverse and inclusive theatre isn’t ‘forward thinking’ – it’s just keeping up. Prospective Artistic Directors, Executive Directors, or General Managers who don’t demonstrate a solid track record and a strong vocabulary for diverse and inclusive programming should be considered a liability. Funding bodies – including the Canada Council – have strongly signaled that diversity will become a major factor in granting. Choose an artistic director unprepared for this important shift in priorities, and major institutions may find themselves losing funding previously considered stable.

Programming and staffing choices are being examined and discussed in a new light, and ADs must be prepared to engage with the national dialogue – over the last year alone we’ve seen multiple examples of ADs unprepared or unwilling to do so. Problematic casting and programming that previously passed without comment are now subject of analysis in print and social media. Beyond presenting a PR problem, these snafus send a message to artists about who is welcomed, valued, and respected at their institutions, perpetuating the cycles of distrust that often make it impossible to cultivate meaningful exchange.

Artistic leaders are not only responsible for programming and staffing, but for curating audience experience. Imagine the transformation that could happen when an organization’s artistic leader has a genuine commitment to creating inclusive spaces for audiences. Smaller organizations are leading the way in creating sharable resources – for example, Cahoots’ DATT document detailing their findings serving the Deaf community, or IPAA’s resource guides for smudging and Indigenous protocol. What if major institutions became the pioneers of new audience practice, rather than waiting for indies to forge the way?

A local case study of such leadership is the 2012 appointment of Jovanni Sy (previously of Cahoots) as the Artistic Director of Gateway Theatre, a two-stage large theatre company located in the City of Richmond, just next to Vancouver. The exciting addition of Gateway Pacific Theatre Festival (billed on their site as “a showcase of world-class contemporary theatre from Hong Kong and Canada”) demonstrates Gateway’s new commitment to serving its community. Jovanni was specific and clear in his approach to engaging new audiences, and the results are showing.

Often, we see organizations instead taking a predatory approach to “diverse audiences” – occasionally programming one show targeted at a specific audience and expecting to cultivate lasting relationships with those communities. What’s missing in those cases but present at Gateway is an authentic desire to broaden the perspectives of both the theatre’s leadership and staff, and their audiences. Which leads me to the question – if prospective ADs haven’t shown such initiative so far in their careers, are they prepared to take such steps at the helm of a new organization? Who is responsible if they aren’t? I’m looking at you, hiring committees.

Finally, there’s the question of moral imperative – a nebulous, complicated, confusing and essential question. The risk is to view this moral imperative as charity, but to my mind it’s about the responsibility of publicly mandated organizations to serve the communities they exist within, and to advance the state of arts and culture in Canada.  When yet another regional theatre announces a season dominated by plays created by, directed by, and starring straight white men, the loss is profound. The loss of space for narratives featuring people of colour and women to be shared; the loss of audiences and artists who leave these spaces and don’t come back, never seeing their presence valued at these institutions. No hiring committee would choose a candidate who has consistently hemorrhaged money at their previous organizations – will they then turn around and hire leadership that lets this intangible cultural capital slip through their fingers?

We’re often conditioned to view work by artists currently in the minority as niche, intended for specific audiences. Particularly in the context of major institutions, work by artists of colour and artists with disabilities can be marginalized by their positioning within the season as token programming, side-stage events, or community outreach.  I would argue that our long-held assumptions that this work is marginal, risky, or simply not mainstream are assumptions that actively work against the perception of artists who champion or identify as marginalized artists. But selecting such an artist as a leader means choosing someone who has fought against those assumptions – someone who is most likely resourceful, tenacious, and strategic. The moral imperative is present, yes – but the benefits to organizations who prioritize diversity are clear, tangible, and essential.

We’re at the precipice of a massive change in thinking, and the relevance and viability of our cultural institutions depends on leadership that is prepared to lead the charge.  Women, artists of colour, and artists with disabilities have been waiting too long for representation in leadership positions. If the positions don’t go to artists currently kept in the minority, they must go to those who have demonstrated a commitment to programming and developing work from such artists.

Of course, there is no guarantee that a change in leadership – even to such a candidate – will bring about substantial change. The idea is as infinitely complex as our individual identities. But someone in these decision-making rooms must ask the questions and press forward. The hiring committees have an opportunity to start a shift in organizational thinking away from the status quo and towards the future – to position their organizations to be responsive and forward-thinking. These committees must recognize the profound value in changing the face of cultural leadership in our country.  The viability of these institutions depends on it.

 

 

No, seriously, who make up the 1% in the arts?

Editor’s Note:

Recently, CBC Arts published an article by RM Vaughan titled, Who makes up the 1%? In the arts, it’s the bureaucrats. It drove me nuts for various reasons. 

When Devon Ostrom – a visual artist whose other accomplishments include playing a key part in creating The Billboard Tax that led to an 60% increase to the Toronto Arts Council budget, and the Pan-Am Path that I use to ride my bike to work every day, posted to FB a rebuttal in the form of a Hill Strategies report, the following (edited) conversation ensued.


Michael Wheeler:

I have an article about that article in me – but as an artist and administrator I’m pretty busy making not that much money.

Devon Ostrom:

I’d collaborate on that with you. Original piece was such a stupid distraction from the areas we do need to focus on.

Michael Wheeler:

Ok. That would be fun. Will send you a mess tmrw.

Devon Ostrom:

Michael Wheeler maybe we do it like a dialogue and back and forth starting now. Then clean up and publish? For me one of the most disturbing parts [of the article] was the use of ‘shock / outrage anecdotes’ at the top. Reminded me of right-wing anti-art stuff from the culture wars used to pit people against the NEA etc.

Presentation style was also very reminiscent of gravy train / anti-elite politics applied to the cultural sector. Heavy on the personal anecdotes, nothing resembling reliable research  – sewn together to generalize / tar / demonized large numbers of people. Author even invited people to witch hunt through the sunshine list like an article from the Toronto Sun.

Also found it pretty gross in that the vast majority of arts admin people I am in contact with are seriously underpaid, have made significant sacrifices and constantly at the edge of burnout. Article was a pretty cruel statement to make. I can almost hear them saying ‘…okay and now I am publicly demonized too, f-this’.

Michael Wheeler:

Ok good idea. I went in with high hopes – I’m not unsympathetic to some of the problems he [Vaughan] points out where buildings and the staff to run them are consistently prioritized over artists living in poverty. My fave writing on this is this piece is by Mike Daisey on the scene in Seattle circa 2008.

But after identifying a legit problem [Vaughan] conflates it with many of the people who are also living in poverty. There are some institutions in this town with some outrageous salaries, and I actually wish he would name them. Instead all “arts administrators” are lumped into the category, which is frankly insane.

In the almost 2 years since I became Executive Director (this makes me a bad guy now apparently btw) at an organization tasked with assisting indie artists and orgs with new/better ways of producing – probably the single biggest challenge is that arts administrators are paid 30% less in the arts than they would be in another field. (I don’t have stats to back this up – basing it on my experience of $30-40K for admins in the arts vs $45-$50K for similar skill sets in private sector.) So we are constantly losing the good ones.

Meanwhile, the other evolution we have clocked is that – like myself – many administrators are also artists. So the pitting artists against administrators argument is gonna make a lot of us schizophrenic in our hatred of ourselves. I don’t know what boards he has sat on, but no one I know who gets a raise if their org is in deficit. I found it poorly researched, using anecdotes that happened once to someone and extrapolating them to be a common practice in an industry with no facts or stats to back it up.

Ok I gotta sleep but will come back tomorrow (right after I tag all 13 of my friends in this convo who posted the article)

Devon Ostrom:

Agreed – there are big problems with the sector around artist pay. Also agreed on the divisive aspect – encouraging people to fight over crumbs rather than making the pie bigger.

The institutional critique angle is interesting – we should exercise care there too though. There are some [organizations] which take a market leader position and create widely available benefits / expand and stabilize the ecosystem – others that are likened to money vacuums on life support. Others who have acted extremely strangely like when the National Gallery was accused of spending more money on lawyers than artist fees (to fight against paying proper artist fees!) That case was a pretty sad reminder of how far some orgs have wandered from their core mission. It should not take the Supreme Court of Canada to re-align national arts organizations to the basic needs of living artists.

Re: your wish, l am unsure about the idea of publicly calling out individuals with high earnings who are arts administrators or practicing artists. For quite a few of them we would be in much worse shape without the revenue they can pull in, or if they were working in different industries. Objective should be to pull people up to an acceptable level, not pull some down. Usually ends with the people who do the pulling down replacing the ‘elite.’

I would be in favour of proposing a new rule on public funding where generally it was unavailable if less that 1/2 – 1/4 of total revenue was going to living artists. (Incl. of OPX and Proj.) Would that work? Minimum Fee schedules are also a big part of the solution.

Michael Wheeler:

On a fundamental level I agree about fighting over scraps instead of fighting to improve a system, but there is also a level of inequity that is related to class and privilege that I think needs to be called out – or we just fight for more money for elites to entertain themselves with.

Two of the four the examples in this article – The International Arts Festival with an Exec Director that made $400k and no budget to pay an artist, and the Canada Prizes that were budgeted but never happened (Thank God), are both brainchildren of the same two businessmen who could only do this because of their privileged connections. If you want to open that can of worms further, one of those businessmen was also Board Chair of another org that paid their head of a publicly funded public institution $1 Million a year – so I’m in favour of calling that out (obvs).

The problem is then governments turn around and are like, “we invested X # of dollars in the arts last year” but really it is circulating amongst a few players and it goes without saying it never trickles down to artists. If we don’t start calling that out then we will get more public funding for the arts and then they will swoop in – give us a few Richard Florida quotes, some fast talk about innovation and disruption – and take off with the cash.

I really love the idea of publicly funded orgs being mandated to have a certain percentage of their budget go to artist fees. This could maybe solve some of these problems above. I think CARFAC does a great job for visual artists that way – I get scared when I think how badly CAEA would F that up for theatre though. I wrote a whole thing about why and erased it to not muddy the waters – but trust me – minimum fees are harder in a collaborative artform that requires a significant budget if we want more than elites making theatre. So I love the idea of a % of an institutional budget going to artist fees overall.

I guess this doesn’t solve the problem of arts administrators being largely underpaid though…..

Devon Ostrom:

I would agree that we should not measure and reward our ‘elite earners’ based on their ability to secure support from existing pools of government funds – but ability to pull in new resources and expand those pools.

Michael Wheeler:

It is my experience this is not the case though. Last year – every org got cut by 5% by The Ontario Arts Council, meanwhile orgs with well connected boards were given extra payments in the millions that skipped the peer review process entirely. The game is rigged and because we’re Canadian and nice or something – or maybe because troublemakers get punished – no one ever talks about this publicly.

Devon Ostrom:

I think our best option is a renewed focus on living artists / core creators. Try to build systems that do properly pay artists and let the ones that don’t do that reform or die off. I am unsure about open inter-tribal warfare. Like what are the limits if we start fighting with each other for resources? From my perspective and prejudices, dance, literary and visual get consistently less financial support – should we unite and start taking theatre and music’s lunch money?

MAKE YOUR VOICE COUNT // BEAUTIFULCITY.CA from themanifesto.ca on Vimeo.

Michael Wheeler:

I just want to say that fundamentally you are right Devon – that inter-anything warfare is a waste of everyone’s time – and everything that you and your colleagues accomplished with The Billboard Tax is a pretty good Exhibit A.

HOWEVER

The stuff I’m raising is the reason why 13 people I know that I consider to be smart posted that article. Because these inequities are pissing people off, they can see the game is rigged, and it makes people susceptible to emotional poorly-researched arguments.

Devon Ostrom:

We were able to do the Billboard Tax because we were all pushing together….the big and small orgs. Also the private intervention of ‘elites’ was one of the things that finally pushed release of the funds through.

Agreed – the inequities / lack of attention to the fundamentals have created a toxic situation.

Michael Wheeler:

I also had the Praxis Theatre name removed from the Creative Capital Gains Report (that name is hella LOL btw)  because the consultation was a farce and the report was already written. At the end of the day, I couldn’t get behind some of the core arguments elites made to be part of that process. I think linking the value of art to economic growth could be MORE harmful in the long run.

Devon Ostrom:

Yeah it was a pretty rushed through thing without timelines and not fully balanced. It did contribute though in the end and was an important tool. I do agree that an over-focus on the economic arguments is garbage and part of the problem. Once we start treating art as an investment, the tendency is to focus on the safe and boring. That is how Canadians do investing.

Michael Wheeler:

At the time we got over 20 diverse arts groups together at Native Earth Performing Arts old office in the Distillery – we rehearsed what we thought should be in [the CCG Report], what the community values were that we wanted to represent, how consultations worked. Not a single sentence in the report reflected this. Nothing drives me crazier than this, and the people responsible have to understand that this is what generates the animosity. We were ready to play the game – we just didn’t understand that the game was to play us for fools.

Devon Ostrom:

Yeah. The purpose was to convince a right wing ruled council to spend and the language and arguments used reflected that.

Elite accommodation is an interesting topic to me within our public systems. For example, if elites don’t have a stake in the public systems then generally the trend is that those public systems deteriorate. The people with disposable time are needed to push it forward. Part of our responsibility is to make sure they are correctly informed.

Michael Wheeler:

This whole conversation is pretty good and no longer about how the article was lame, which I like. [But check out this scathing doc Devon made that specifically addresses everything wrong with the article.] And I do get what they say about making sausages and laws. Thanks for proposing this.

Thanks to Jacob Zimmer for making this a google doc that we could collaborate on. 

 

#CdnCult Times; Volume 7, Edition 4: POWER SYSTEMS

In this country, first you get the money, then you get the power, then you get the culture.

(Adapted from Tony Montana)

This edition is all about power and culture.

Where does it come from? Who exercises it? To what end?

Each article seeks to address this question from a different perspective. Christine Quintana looks at the hiring practices of our artistic leaders. Thomas McKechnie examines the late capitalist economic system that defines power in our society and how it is reflected in our cultural institutions. Devon Ostrom and I discuss a recent CBC article on ‘the 1%’ in the arts and what that term means to us.

At the core of each of these articles is cash money. Who controls it and what they do with it plays a huge role in determining who makes what art, and just as importantly, what art doesn’t get made. If we exist in a system where trickle-down neoliberal economic theory is a guiding principal – what culture trickles down through our artistic institutions?

Certainly culture exists outside of funding and institutions, and there will always be culture generated by artists and creators regardless of what is green-lighted. The questions explored in this edition speak to what work we support and who can have the opportunity to make a living as an artist, a key factor influencing culture on the whole.

Michael Wheeler
Co-Editor: #CdnCult

Theory: Episode 3

“You’re so blinded by your tolerance that you don’t see your offence.”

Isabelle is a young, liberal professor of film theory. She creates an Internet discussion board for her class as a learning tool and encourages them to speak freely. A mysterious student posts questionably offensive comments and videos, testing Isabelle’s open-mindedness. When the student starts sending her racially and sexually charged emails and videos – she tries to shrug it off. But when someone leaves an open knife at her front door, she reports the student to the university. The harassment intensifies and becomes more violent until Isabelle stops goes to class to escape her tormentor. She soon realizes there is nowhere to hide.

Theory was written was Norman Yeung. It features Sascha Cole, Ash Knight, Starr Domingue, Qasim Khan, Kyle Orzech, Darrel Gamotin, Audrey Dwyer. The original production was directed by Joanne Williams, and the workshop production was directed by Esther Jun.