A bonding session with Hilary Mantel

One of the enduring memories from my childhood was the periodic Araldite session. My dad would be mending something – things were usually mended, partly from economic necessity, partly on the principle that there was no sense wasting something that was fine save for the fact that one piece had become two – and the call would go up "has anyone got anything that needs mending". With a flurry of activity, anything else about the house that had been broken was offered up at the altar of repair although, in truth, this was relatively little, since things got mended when they got broken, rather than left in that state. Nonetheless the memory remains.

At this point, it’s probably useful to offer an explanation for the bewildered. Not those bewildered by the idea of repairing things: if you still don't get that, you’d best carry on with your consumptive lifestyle, pay your carbon tax and rest content in the knowledge that someone else is doing the dirty work for you. No, this is for those for whom the word Araldite conjures up nothing other than some bastard hybrid of Steptoe and Son and Superman.

Araldite is a two-part epoxy adhesive (I'm delighted to discover that my spellchecker at least recognises the name, if not the substance). The substance comes in two tubes: one of resin and one of hardener. You squeeze out a blob of resin and, adjacent to it, an equal-sized blob of hardener. Take a little matchstick (or toothpick for the health-conscious) and mix the two together thoroughly. Apply it to the cleaned surface of broken part A and bring it together with cleaned surface of broken part B. Hold, clamp, balance or otherwise make sure they stay in this position. It’ll start hardening in half an hour or so, but in 24 hours you’ve got the meanest, toughest bond that ever walked this earth.

So today’s session started with repairing a suitcase handle. Samsonite – despite their premium brand status – also manage to produce some utter tat, and in this case the tattiness was the fragility of the handle. This had broken before, so I’ve fully sussed how the case is put together, how to take off the handles, and exactly where the weak point lies in the handle mounts. A trip to Glasgow next week needs a case, so the case (which I have to confess has been sitting leering at me for weeks) must be fixed. I know what needs doing, so it’s just a question of gluing the offending pieces and working out a way of keeping them together.

Job done, surplus adhesive left. So the call goes out for other little mending jobs. I’m already aware of where the handles are weakest, so decide I might as well stick a blob on those that haven’t broken, as reinforcement. Then in comes running a hole punch (not strictly the punch but the little plastic bit that importantly positions paper for correctly-positioned holed). I’ve tried mending this before, and it hasn’t held (with superglue – cyanoacrylate – which is quick but brittle and not up to the job nor, it appears, recognised by my spellchecker).

So, enough left to stick this together. A bit of spillage over the sides, and it’ll be a rather tight fit, but it can easily be filed down afterwards. Dead easy putting the pieces together, but how to keep them together – that is the question. And who should come to the rescue, but Hilary Mantel. In fact Beyond Black, which is sitting in my ‘books to read’ pile and has a handy plastic cover so I can use it to hold the pieces level without getting glue on the book. Hmm, not quite: a few matchsticks help with support, but still it’s not quite there. Eventually I revert to a perennial problem-solver: sprung clamps (huge bag found in Lidl for a couple of quid), with a bit of paper to prevent the clamp getting permanently stuck to the pieces.

Finally, and a bit of a bold move this, an umbrella. A lovely, classic, wood-handled, black, full-length job. Destroyed outside Hammersmith tube station in an over-enthusiastic shaking off of the biblical weather a few weeks ago. I tend to favour the ‘spin’ approach, rather than the ‘push-pull’ approach to shaking off rain, but at that point realised that this is clearly the test of a well-built umbrella and this one – lovely as it is – isn’t that well built. What had happened was the top notch had broken and the ribs had come adrift from it (if it hasn’t even occurred to you to think about how an umbrella is put together, check out http://thecoffeehouse-angel.blogspot.com/2008/09/umbrella-talk.html). As a cheap umbrella, the ribs appear to simply sit in the top notch, so its integrity is important, and now it had lost a bit of the important plastic. So, with the umbrella fully opened, and carefully positioned to allow both illumination and easy access, a big blob of epoxy dropped in to fill the broken bit of top notch. This is probably the first step of a longer repair process: I’ll still have to cut grooves in it so the ribs can sit tightly in there. But, as with all of these things, better to try and repair than just to throw it out.

You may say: “Really? Or you could get a life”. And this is curious, since my work is all freelance and I’m acutely aware of the value of my time. But I increasingly realise that this is my own personal carbon tax. I could go out and buy another umbrella, case or whatever, and pay a suitable tax so the environmental cost of production is offset by throwing some money at the problem (if the notion of a carbon tax were to exist). Indeed by mending my own stuff, I could be accused of stealing work from the suitcase and umbrella artisans of [fill in any suitable low-wage economy with emerging industries where Western brands can sub-contract their dirty physical production, so their wallets are full and their hands are clean]. But this is the tricky question, and one that seems to have been kept off the environmental agenda very effectively: will we sacrifice the economic fetish of growth for the sake of the environment? Silence.

So, sorry I’m not out there spending my money so industries can be created in making stuff that's going to make the stuff that’s already been made make less of an environmental impact. I’ve got stuff; it’s been made; no need to make it again; I’ll mend it.

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The last post...

...or possibly not, but my last chance to remind you to VOTE for Equity Council. The closing date is noon tomorrow (Wednesday), so you’re probably too late to post it now, but you may yet have a chance to deliver by hand.

You’ll need half an hour or so to read the candidates’ election statements and vote for the ones that speak to where you’re coming from, so I’ll take up no more of your time...

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Vote less...but vote.

After weeks banging on about the importance of getting out there and voting for Equity Council, I now find myself seeming to contradict that position.

I’ve already put my hands up to one wrong assumption, that people would act immediately on receiving their ballot papers, whether by voting, or by binning them. This isn’t exactly another “mea culpa”, so much as an increasing understanding of exactly why people don’t feel able to vote straight away: it’s bloody hard work.

Unless you’re already deeply engaged in Equity’s internal shenanigans and have some knowledge of the in-fighting of the last twenty or thirty years, many of the candidates’ election statements will be utterly wasted on you. Certainly the years of Equity activity and achievement are very impressive, and I do genuinely salute this commitment to what is often a turgid and frustrating process of actually getting things done. But therein also lies the danger: the obstacles to action seem more often to be within Equity than in the industry at large, so all the energy gets directed inward, rather than toward the wider theatre of action. Rather like a passionate backstage affair that manifests itself on stage as a utterly mechanical, dull and ineffectual.

We’re an industry about communication: we play things out for the benefit of the audience. Certainly there is an extent to which art seeks to stage some personal expression, but where the audience is invited to share and take something from it. Often Equity’s way of working comes across like a self-indulgent, solipsistic prima donna, utterly focused on itself and making no attempt to make this accessible to the audience. It’s an easy trap to fall into, but if we want people to vote for us, we have to speak to them, rather than just showing off the medals and scars of our Equity activity.

So, if you do feel overwhelmed by all those cryptic election statements talking only about committees, councils and conferences, consider this: do these people want your vote anyway?

Perhaps they’ve forgotten to think about you, and are focused only on the small body of people who regularly follow Equity’s internal processes and have voted in the past (that’s less than 10% if you missed previously posts). Perhaps they specifically don’t want your vote, and have written their statements deliberately to exclude you. It really doesn’t matter either way: if a candidate fails to consider the effect of what they’re communicating (regardless of their intent), that’s that. I can’t complain if I decide to spend the whole show gazing upstage and wonder why the audience didn’t appreciate my brilliant internal monologue.

I have criticised other candidates in the past for asking people to vote only for them. I still believe this is anti-democratic (even though it’s technically legal). But I do believe it’s more important to vote than not. And if the obstacle to voting is working out where to put those last few crosses, then don’t. Just vote for who you want and post it.

Don’t be overwhelmed or intimidated by gobbledygook. If a candidate fails to speak to you, just don’t vote for them. We’re in an industry where being talked down to has become something of a norm, but with Equity you pays your money and takes your choice. You can’t ‘get it wrong’ (ok, technically you can, but a cross in a box isn’t rocket science), and if you don’t understand a candidate’s statement, that’s their problem, not yours: just ignore them and move on to the next.

If you get through the whole paper and find that absolutely no-one has said anything worth your vote, then put no crosses. That’s also an important statement. But post the ballot paper: your important statement is wasted if it doesn’t reach its audience.

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It's not too late - VOTE NOW

My friend David recently (indirectly) set me right on an assumption that I’d been making.

I’ve been campaigning on the basis that everyone will do something with their ballot paper for Equity Council as soon as they receive it. I’ve been doing plenty of pre-election awareness-raising through conversations, local meetings, Facebook and Twitter activity. All intended to make sure people pay attention when their ballot paper drops through the post. I’d been working on the basis that members fall into two camps – those who’ll see the importance and act immediately, and those who just can’t be bothered and bin it.

I’d overlooked a third camp, and possibly a very key one: people who think it’s important, are planning to do something, but it just doesn’t get high enough up the priority list for anything to happen. Those members who do see the significance of Equity, but are also busy people and find it hard to give time to this. So, even though I’ve been thinking that the campaign is effectively now over, it’s still worth recognising that there are people out there with their ballot papers in their bags, pinned to the fridge or in that pile of post that isn’t demanding immediate attention.

If you’re one of those people, consider this. Right now it’s a booklet demanding a bit of your time to trawl through terse and cryptic statements, and a form that looks rather overwhelming. But over the next two years, this translates into how your views on the industry are represented, which of your concerns get most priority, resourcing and action. Even though it doesn’t seem urgent, it is important.

So find some time. Just an hour. Make a cuppa, turn off the TV and radio, sit down and focus. You’ll find it takes less time than you fear, and if you really do feel swamped, remember that (even though it’s preferable) you don’t have to use all your votes. Vote for the people who strike you as responsible guardians of your profession, share the same values, or have a track record of commitment and effective action. Set your own agenda, see whose pitch best supports what you want, and give them a good ticking.

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90% and the big 'must-have'

During the course of campaigning for Equity Council, I’ve had several conversations, all of which seem to come down to a number: 9%.

That’s the percentage of members who turned out to vote in the last Council Elections. Last year’s elections for specialist and regional committees saw only a 6% turnout. And my local branch typically sees about 5% of the membership actually showing up regularly. All of them in the same ballpark, nothing reaching double figures, and all suggesting that over 90% of Equity members don’t feel a sense of engagement.

What can we do about this? Easy, we can spend time writing to them, phoning them up, throw a party or maybe pop round for a cup of tea and a chat. My branch often has a high-profile speaker that invariably brings a massively increased turnout. So it’s quite easy to get people interested or excited for a brief time. Then they mostly fade. It’s not really about giving people a great one-off initiative that’ll give them a quick buzz, it’s about offering them something in a way that makes for sustainable engagement.

You might wonder why I find this troublesome. Because if those 90% aren’t engaged, the union can’t properly operate on the basis of its members’ strength, those elected have a very weak mandate, and ultimately, there’s a stronger risk that the 90% might leave. More subjectively, but on first-hand judgement, rather than statistics, I find it worrying when many people I work with come over all pale and distant at any mention of ‘Equity’. These are professional performers, and if the union that’s meant to represent them gets that response, this tells me something just isn’t sitting right.

I believe that to address that, we have to start asking not “What?” but “Why?” Why do 90% of members regularly not feel engaged?

Is it because they feel Equity doesn’t have anything to offer them? Maybe  not, or more would have left. There are a number of member benefits, which may be useful or not, depending on your area of work, or indeed whether you’re working or not. Equity’s current thrust is away from being a provider of such services, but I don’t believe that in itself is of huge significance. Those services are useful, but they don’t offer the sort of weight to be a vital ‘must-have’ reason for being part of Equity. If you’re working in the West End, regional theatre or TV, Equity’s relevance is manifest in the working terms and conditions you benefit from. But how many people is that? Increasingly I find myself speculating that this too might be around that figure of 9%.

I’ve spoken with a number of colleagues, many of whom either pay their subs but aren’t terribly bothered (or indeed feel alienated) because they’re not working on Equity contract jobs, or others who have simply stopped paying their subs because they’re not getting Equity-contract work and therefore don’t feel part of the Equity ‘fold’. I could argue that there are all sorts of other services they’d get if they kept their membership, or give them a guilt-trip about their duty of solidarity and support for other actors. But the truth is, these services don’t feel like a persuasive argument in isolation, and we seem to have an individualistic culture where everyone feels so disempowered they’re hard pressed to look after their themselves, never mind supporting each other.

What I want to be able to say to people is something that really resonates with them, strikes at the heart of their sense of professional existence, and makes them feel that Equity is a deeply integral (and integrated) part of their working life, however much work they get, or whatever sort of work they do. I want to be able to articulate a ‘must-have’ quality that Equity represents for them.

I’ve been asking that question for a few years. It stemmed from hearing older members yearn for the days of the closed shop (which some still do), when Equity could afford to have restricted entry. I rarely heard those people say “and that gave us a great sense of collective power”: the message I heard was usually that the closed shop let Equity cater to a self-interest of protecting work for its members, but that was a tremendous ‘must-have’ reason for being a member.

We have moved on, but can we create a similar sense of Equity’s worth, while being a mass-membership union? I’d like to think so. I don’t necessarily know how, but suspect it does lie in the territory of creating value. Brand value if you will. If Apple can have half the population sticking iPods to their ears and still feeling special about that, surely we can achieve something similar. It’s about Equity tapping into a sense of aspiration and emotional engagement and having members feel that Equity membership is part of delivering on those aspirations. It’s not necessarily about giving them something individually (like services), but if Equity can achieve a position of respect, status and authority in the industry, this will be reflected on its members, and their sense of the value of membership.

Another possibility is that those 90% just need to see some evidence that Equity speaks in terms that make sense to them. Certainly we should celebrating the successful negotiation of an improved agreement, but let’s not get carried away in thinking everyone will celebrate. Those who see such jobs as a distant hope might – understandably – feel underwhelmed, and possibly even more resentful. It may be a question of working out what a union can meaningfully deliver to the 90%, but the first stage is surely to start listening to – and hearing – them.

A further route might be to piggy-back the Big Society. I find myself cringing at this, and have been very sceptical of the pre-election proposal to put vital national services into the hands of well-meaning amateurs. But – and this depends massively on how Big Society plays out – if it does manage to create a greater sense of social responsibility and civic engagement, that could itself do a lot of the work for us. If the coalition government can actually create a society (assuming they acknowledge the existence of such a thing), where social contribution is prized more highly than individual achievement, not only would that help give status to Equity, but especially credit those who give their time in active service of their community.

So, the Gwyndaf challenge to you is this: what’s the big ‘must-have?’ It’s a precious and elusive thing, and I need your help in finding it.

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Unpacking the election statement

You may be reading this because you read my election statement and want to know what this really means. Council candidates get only 150 words in which to make a statement, and that doesn’t seem enough to explain my position on many issues, identify the issues that aren’t on the agenda, or document the work I’ve done for performers – individually and collectively – over the years.

So we have this blog. This article specifically addresses and explains what those tightly-compressed 150 words represent. But read the other blog items, and you’ll see many of these areas explored in greater detail.

So, here we go...

1. The Opening Salvo and Philosophical Position

“Performers are increasingly empowered to create and promote their own work”

Just a single area of work, among many, but a growing one, and one that provides a useful focus. It raises a lot of issues, such as employment/self-employment, the employer/employee relationship (and whether this is always clear-cut) , the role of performers as creative artists, and the apparently increasing sense of empowerment amongst many performers. That is, rather than passively waiting for ‘the employers’ to phone them up, they’re getting active and getting their acts together to make themselves more visible. Which in turn raises the issue of performers’ marketing themselves (or their work) and thinking in terms of the longer-term ‘career’ game, rather than simply the ‘job. I’m quite clear that I would like to see performers feel much more able to develop a grown-up business relationship with those who want their work, and can have an intelligent conversation about terms of working, money etc. There’s a philosophical question of whether this sort of individual empowerment might conflict with the traditional union aims of collective empowerment, but I believe both approaches are necessary. There are small-scale, and rapidly-changing areas where Equity would be hard-pressed (whether by resourcing or sheer size and slowness) to engage with the whole territory, and this is where it’s useful that performers feel able to stand up for themselves.

“as traditional productions diminish and new spaces and media offer greater access. “

This isn’t the death of theatre and film production as we know it. But innovation in these sectors is increasingly coming from small players. Digital media mean that it’s far easier and cheaper than before to make a film and get it distributed. This rarely fits with traditional business models, and money made on the Web often involves a complex process, but which is very often about marketing and increasing visibility, than direct charging. And this also has an impact on theatre: a bunch of performers can form a company, find a space and shamelessly plug the venture through Facebook or Myspace and have access to the same sort of promotional muscle that was previously available only to big producers.

“This is not new: variety artists have long created their own work, and we need to nurture and harness this experience.”

The more I talked about this idea with people, the more I realised that the idea of performers creating and promoting their work seemed similar to the business model of variety artists than traditionally employed actors. I have a huge respect for variety artists and, though I don’t have an intricate knowledge of that area of work, it does strike me that there are similar patterns. And with the emergence of comedy, magic and burlesque, we seem to be seeing a resurgence of variety work, even if it’s not taking place in the traditional venues. So, we’ve got the knowledge and experience, but maybe need to be more joined-up in our thinking to exploit the expertise that’s there but risks being lost between traditional categories of work.

“Big organisations and slow processes are losing out to agile newcomers”

Equity has traditionally worked on the basis that big organisations talk to big organisations. So, we’ll talk with the TMA and ITC, PACT and the BBC, but ‘house’ agreements are the exception, and often a transitional step to bring those employers into the mainstream agreements. But theatres are closing and the British film industry is...where? I don’t believe that audiences have totally lost interest, but are often finding their entertainment in new and non-institutionalised forms. This needs acknowledging and discussing. I don’t believe it’s feasible to try chasing after all these, which could be fleeting ventures, but we can help our members feel empowered and equipped to navigate this territory.

“– performers included –”

As already mentioned, a performer who wants to advance their career can create their own vehicle, to get their work out there and seen. The rewards may be financial, or they may be more subtle, such as visibility or creative reputation.

“and Equity must consider how to recognise and respond to this changing climate and members’ working reality if it is to remain relevant in the industry and serve members’ needs in ways that allow them to flourish.”

Really a couple of points packed in here. One is to recognise the industry as it is now; the other is to speak in terms that resonate with members. But they come together in that individual members are in closer touch with what’s happening ‘out there’, so if you serve one you serve the other. And I use the term ‘working reality’ because it’s not just about jobs in the industry: it’s about the fact that many members are not passive ‘between jobs’, but working hard either to earn an income or develop their careers (or indeed having to find time for both). To talk exclusively as ‘work’ as involving properly Equity-contracted jobs runs the risk of alienating many members.

This isn’t a ‘what do we do?’ question. It’s not necessarily about ‘hard’ action, but the more subtle area of information, interaction and communication: what does Equity think its members are up to, how they feel about it, and how do they respond to that? This is to say that a lot of performers get frustrated with an industry where there’s precious little work. Our focus has traditionally being on what action is needed on an issue, when that’s not always what’s needed. Sometimes it’s simply enough that we show ourselves to have heard and acknowledged performers’ issues.

2. The Credentials

“Independent”

Standing without the backing, or agenda, of any existing campaigning group. What concerns me are various issues that have barely got on the discussion table, so it’s far too early to be able to even have a ‘party position’ on these.

“Articulate and tenacious”

Quite subjective, of course, as is anyone who says they represent you, or represents members. I do believe that clarity of expression reflects clarity of thought, and that single-line slogans can be a dangerous over-simplification, so this blog aims to explore many of these issues in more detail. And, as an actor, if I don’t have an understanding and command of language, I’m in big trouble. Tenacious: subjective again. There are people in Equity who’ve been campaigning on the same topic for very many years. But more to the point, it means I’ve had enough experience with the practicalities of Equity’s democratic processes to know that the quick flash of a great idea needs long, slow, hard work to make it a reality.

“Working as an actor”

Yes, I work. A respectable amount, but not quite as much as I’d like. But I think this puts me in touch with the situation of very many members. In chairing my branch I’ve been adamant that members’ work has to come first, even if it means missing meetings or not being able to help out. It’s vital for credibility that those involved in Equity are seen to be actively involved in the industry as it is today.

“and creator of diverse mixed-media projects.”

Also making my own work, whether in film, sound or live art, alongside a wide range of practitioners. This means I have to hop between different disciplines of performing, design (visual, tactile or sonic), technical and promotional. But this also means I can (indeed have to) talk with other specialists in an intelligent peer-to-peer fashion.

“Ten years in Equity after ten years in corporate management and digital media.”

A drop in the ocean by the experience of many performers, but certainly enough to have a mature understanding of Equity and the industry more generally. And yes, I’ve worked in corporate environments where I have to take responsibility for other people, what gets done, how to do it, and how to solve problems and overcome obstacles that get in the way. And I first used the Web in the early 1990s, was involved in early web design, and helping others get used to new media.

“Currently Chair (and formerly Treasurer), W&SW London Branch.”

Matters of record. Members of my branch can comment better on this. All I can say is that I’m acutely aware of the responsibilities that come with being chair, to be impartial and ensure everyone in the branch gets an equal hearing. More generally, that this is a job or role, which has to be taken seriously while I’m doing it. It’s a different responsibility from that I have working as an actor, or in my personal life. And it’s different again to that which I’d expect to take on while sitting on Equity Council.

“Proposed using email for Equity branch communication in 2003: achieved in 2009...”

This was put in front of Equity Council in 2003, asking that branches be able to email all their members, cutting thousands off the cost of a newsletter mailout. While it’s always been feasible to collect email addresses ad hoc from people who turn up at meetings, that’s only 5% of the membership, and I’ve always felt it’s important to engage those who can’t come to meetings. Credit is also due to the East Midlands Variety Branch for getting this passed at the 2009 ARC, which has now led to measures being put in place to ensure that practical skills and data protection compliance are in place to make this happen.

“Make your vote count.”

Seriously, 9% of members voted in the last Council Election. Just vote: I’d prefer it’s for me, but if you don’t vote, we’ll be in a position where Equity is governed by people – whoever they are – who don’t have the backing of most members. Who do you want to speak for you?

“equity.gwyndaf.com”

This should be self-explanatory if you’ve found this blog.

I’m personally very aware of the merits of the internet for effective and efficient communication and engagement. Simply by using it in an up-to-date and sophisticated (rather than complicated) fashion demonstrates that Equity is in touch with how people are increasingly working. However, with my ‘branch chair’ hat on, I have had to recognise that we can’t disenfranchise members by relying totally on the medium. This industry has been slower than most in seeing the potential, but we’re getting there slowly. There’s huge potential, but we need to maintain inclusivity.

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Open space for Equity?

I’ve been aware for a long time that many members raise concerns at Equity branches because it’s important to them that they are heard. Sometimes, that leads to a wider discussion, which can be useful in helping clarify the issue. Sometimes, action needs to be taken: it may be something we can do locally, or it may be something we can put to Equity Council to for broader action. That is how the democratic process works: it can be quite slow and formal, and often gets more so the nearer it gets to practical action, but it can get done.

However, very few performers bother to turn up. I could easily argue that democracy belongs to those who come forward to be counted, they’ve had their chance, and leave it at that. But I believe that would be wrong.

I’m aware of a large, possibly growing, number of actors who feel that their professional world is miles away from the one represented by what Equity does. They’re angry and frustrated, and it’s not because of what they’re getting paid in the West End, subsidised repertory theatres or the BBC. That’s not why they’re angry, but it is why they think Equity is irrelevant to them. Superficially, they might be angry because they’re being asked to work for nothing, getting no work, or being given a tiny dressing room shared with a keg of Heineken. But I sense that there’s a deeper story.

Dickens’ Bleak House is about lots of things, but the two main themes are the stench of the effluent Thames and the slow, plodding nature of the legal process. They create an engaging urban mix, but there’s more to it. Check the publication dates of the novel’s instalments, and check the dates of reports on the hideous state of London’s sanitation at the time, and you’ll discover that this was known well before Bleak House was published. It wasn’t a response to poor sanitation, but to the fact that this issue had already been identified, acknowledged as a problem, and still nothing was being done. What I hear around me is a very similar sense of frustration. It’s not about the surface issue, but a deeper concern that voices are complaining and don’t feel they’re being heard.

So, perhaps it’s not enough to say “you’ve had your chance to show up and share these views”. Perhaps we need to do more than impose on members a particular way of working and think about a process that’s more responsive to their needs. More than that: one that is experienced by them as more responsive to their needs. Not just heard, but also fed back as having been heard.

Before my time, Equity had Annual General Meetings. I’ve heard all sorts of stories, and they sound like utter chaos, with the loudest, most aggressive voices being heard and very little actually getting decided or done. But I’ve also heard ordinary members calling to have them back, and have wondered why this is. Although there may have been the excitement and frisson about watching our leading players battle it out over policy, I increasingly suspect the main reason is that every ordinary member had a chance to turn up (still necessary) and feel their voice could get heard.

At the weekend, I attended an Annual Representative Conference where the debate was more clear, intelligent and respectful than any other I’d been to, and really would not wish for a macho free-for-all where the debate belongs to those who make most noise.

What I also experienced was Equity’s tentative steps into open space discussion sessions. I’ve encountered this format before, at Improbable’s Devoted & Disgruntled events, both annually and monthly. It’s a very good approach for exploring those elusive issues that rattle around in one’s mind without achieving any clarity or focus. By throwing these out into a supportive, open forum, a few minds in conversation can often help shape the issue into something clearer and better articulated. This is the key thing: it’s about a lot of small-scale conversations, rather than a whole room in debate. The bigger a discussion gets, the more simplistic you have to be to get your point across, and the more likely the subtleties are to get lost in the cracks. It’s also got an open agenda: there is no agenda, and what gets discussed is what the people turning up (yes, you still have to turn up) want to discuss, along with anyone else who wants to discuss it. Sometimes that’s no-one, sometimes it’s half the room.

But, as well as offering a useful tool for national-level discussion, this might also offer Equity a way of giving members more broadly a chance of feeling they’re being heard. There might be twenty or thirty people at a branch meeting, but I’ve seen over a hundred at London-wide annual meetings, with much more vociferous debate. Perhaps a series of annual, regional, open space meetings would offer members a chance of talking about (rather than debating) their concerns, have these heard, and give Equity a chance to tap into what people want to talk about.

There may be another dimension to this as well. Gender stereotypes might have it that men are better at ‘doing’ and women are better at ‘communicating’. I know plenty of men who listen very well, and women who get stuff done, but – if we accept that this generalisation has some broad truth – perhaps this offers a more feminised model of discussion. Despite having a fairly even balance of sexes in the profession, this isn’t reflected in Equity’s decision-making Council, and I wonder whether one reason is that there’s something rather masculine about battling for a particular point of view in a public arena, rather than sitting down and having a quiet word, or about focusing on “what do we do” rather than “can we talk about this”. Contentious ground, I’m sure, and a suggestion that potentially challenges a whole established democratic process. So, I’m especially interested to hear views on this.

It seems clear that we need to shift the ground toward listening more to people, and showing that. But whichever way it happens, they still need to turn up.

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Change gonna come...

Just over ten years ago I was running a digital media centre: the first in South London to my knowledge. Tucked away in the basement of The Studio, a great little arts centre on the fringes of Bromley (politically and culturally, as well as geographically) in Beckenham.

We provided facilities and training to the local community: the curious general public, artists wanting to explore this new medium, professional print designers eager to satisfy their clients’ demand for ‘something interactive’, and filmmakers with loads of great footage (mostly Hi8) but no money and a lot of patience. We had a great programme of classes and open studio access, and facilities worth about £50,000, all geared up to bring together the skills required to create interactive CD-ROMs.

Six months later the Web took off.

This meant that a lot of our courses and equipment for creating CD-ROMs became redundant. But we could adapt. Web design needed less gear than interactive CD-ROMs, all of which we had. And we found new tutors, so it wasn’t a huge shift to start running courses that met the sudden surge of interest in the internet, email and the web.

Ancient history. So what?

·         In 2003, MySpace was launched, giving artists an easy way of building a fan base without relying on big companies as gatekeepers to their public.

·         YouTube was launched in 2005. Distribution – often cited as the reason so few British films get seen – was suddenly available to anyone, filming on anything from a mobile phone upward.

·         The Red One camera was released in 2007, giving digital a quality suitable for high-end filming and cutting production costs, or increasing the quality of low-budget films.

·         The iPhone was released in 2007, bringing video to the palm of your hand.

·         And the BBC iPlayer was also released in 2007, giving wider access to their programming.

There’s a very handy timeline that illustrates very clearly the increasing rate of change in the media: http://www.cemp.ismysite.co.uk/timelines/media/

It’s not just about technology changing how the work is done. It’s also changing the way the industry works, how it’s structured and where the power lies. A band can record an album, get the music heard, build up a following and sell tracks online for less than an A&R man’s drinks budget.

Not only that, but the internet is changing how money is made. The music industry of the late twentieth century was built on sales of recordings; they’ve struggled to get to grips with online sales, and have finally wrapped their heads around that. But the effect of bands using MySpace is not about making money from selling recordings: it’s about gaining visibility. The most radical consequence of the internet is – ironically – that more money is being spent on live music.

This demonstrates the broader change that the web has brought about: a lot is given away ‘for free’. It was not always thus: in the early days of the web, many publishers stuck to their existing business model of selling information, with a paid subscription to their sites. But the web had grown through collaborative information sharing and no-one wanted to pay when the same information was free elsewhere. The slow giants got caught on the hop.

What happened was that ‘business’ changed. Today’s ‘free’ is tomorrow’s ‘market share’. Or a means of selling something else through advertising, which is now reflected back in free newspapers driven by advertising and spurious sponsored surveys. It’s no longer as simple as making something and having someone pay for it: rightly or wrongly the speed of the internet has – ironically again – made money-making a much longer game.

This is what we need to stay on top of. Not simply working out how iPlayer distribution affects performers’ rights, but recognising that this change is constant, and getting faster. And it’s rarely driven by the big industry players we’re used to dealing with. It’s increasingly driven from the ground up, and that groundswell is increasingly coming from performers themselves.

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Which restaurant?

Most discussion of performers’ work focuses on what happens in the rehearsal room, on stage or on set. Given that very few performers get to do this work solidly, it begs the question of what happens in between.

Firstly, there’s the work that happens in other sectors, such as temping, bar or restaurant work, to provide food and shelter. In 2005, nearly half of performers earned under £6,000 from performance work (Skillset Workforce Survey 2005), while working full-time on minimum wage would bring in about £10,000. The same survey reports the average number of weeks worked in performance as 18, while weeks worked in other industries was 28. That is, the research seems to support many performers’ personal experience that pursuing a career in this industry requires some sort of sideline income.

Secondly, there’s what many businesses would describe as ‘non-core’ activities, such as administration, finance, marketing or training. All those things that have to be done because the work is a business, not a hobby. Withnail is a thing of the past, a romantic notion of eloquent squalor, full of glorious sound and fury, but actors are increasingly taking responsibility for their own careers. As well as rehearsal or shooting, on top of the bar job, there’s also that ongoing undercurrent of classes, letter-writing, getting out to shows or simply maintaining visibility and networking. To say ‘I am an actor’ means less complaining about the dearth of work or ineptitude of the agent, and more working out what it’s within one’s power to do, and doing it. In professional terms, the state of being a performer is as much about this ongoing activity as the doing of the work itself.

This raises some questions for Equity. Historically, trade unions have served an industrial relations model of employers, who have money but need labour, and employees, who offer skills in exchange for money. But that model (Unison, GMB, and most other unions) is usually built on a regular employment pattern. In this industry, the ‘employment’ portion of work is only part of the picture. Ongoing development, promotion and so forth fall to the individual performer to deal with in their own time. This is not leisure time: it’s an essential part of being a professional, but it’s the professionalism of the self-employed.

Equity has long campaigned for actors to have the status of employees. And rightly so. By the measure of “are you selling your time, or a product/service?”, it’s very much the former. No professional can turn up to rehearsal when they want and give their Hamlet as they fancy. A company of people working together towards a common goal, under someone else’s direction, argues clearly that this meets the criteria against which ‘employment’ is judged. But this applies to only a fraction of performers’ working lives.

If Equity is to appear relevant to its members, it’s important to recognise those things that performers do when they’re not actually performing, rather than simply treating them as ‘out of work’. Some may say “we’re a trade union: we don’t do that”, but it’s not purely about what we do, it’s about acknowledging the complex picture of members’ working lives. I’ve learnt over many years working for my local branch that it’s not just about action: a lot of people simply need to have their circumstances heard and understood. Whether this demands specific action is another question, but for a profession that’s about communication, we need to realise that acting isn’t just about talking, it’s about listening.

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BAPAM. Who?

At my last branch meeting, it was clear that there are a lot of performers who still don’t know about BAPAM, even though Equity gives money to support them and they do a great job.

BAPAM stands for British Association for Performing Arts Medicine. They were previously called the British Performing Arts Medicine Trust, but BPAMT isn’t quite such a punchy acronym. There’s no sense me repeating what they do: go to their website and have a read.

What I can say is that I’ve experienced what they do, and it’s refreshing to be able to talk with someone who understands performers’ concerns and priorities. In my case, an iffy shoulder from a badly-judged fall works perfectly well, but makes itself felt slightly more than the rest of my body, so I don’t feel totally anatomically ‘balanced’. Try telling that to many a GP.

Nor are they confined to physical health: they also provide psychological services. Stress and depression are increasingly being recognised and discussed in the mainstream, but BAPAM recognise how this can be a particularly stressful industry in which to work. They also recognise that the work often draws on a range of mental and emotional resources, as well as the physical, so can help ensure a fully-rounded sense of being ‘fit for work’.

So, that’s BAPAM. If you don’t need them now, you might in future: www.bapam.org.uk

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The fringe and beyond

There’s a lot of discussion going on right about the low/no pay issue and ‘the fringe’ in theatre.

So, to wade in with my two-pennyworth...

There's a great danger in this debate of treating 'the fringe' as a tight, homogeneous group, when in practice it ranges from actors putting on their own plays, and projects that are innovative but unfunded, to companies that have been 'fringe' for many years, whether by design or circumstance.

To give this some history and context, the 'fringe' of the 60s and 70s seems to have been where a lot of innovative work got done. There was also a lot more public money around. So it was 'fringe' in an artistic sense, rather than financially. And many of those involved had a more cohesive agenda, like many radical artistic movements. People could afford to work on the fringe, had something to say, and that’s what they did.

From what I hear within Equity, a lot of discussion still treats 'the fringe' as having that ideological position. From what I hear down the pub, talking with colleagues, ‘fringe' is what you do if you don’t have a proper job in prospect. It's basically the theatre that doesn't fit into any of the existing Equity agreement 'slots'. Those agreements are normally the result of negotiating with a particular group of employers (i.e. theatre companies). So ‘the fringe’ is essentially defined by what it’s not.

Nor is it static. I know few people involved in 'the fringe' today who regard it as an end in itself (but that depends whether your idea of ‘fringe’ includes children’s theatre, community projects and TIE). The actors and directors I know are after exposure leading to a paid job, the writers are hoping for a decent commission, the producers hope it'll get them some funding or backing. Which many of them get. And so it goes.

People who were on the fringe ten years ago are now working in the mainstream industry: Tom Morris (BAC to Bristol Old Vic), Erica Whyman (Southwark Playhouse to Northern Stage), Dominic Dromgoole (Bush to Globe). I realise there are no actors or ‘jobbing’ directors in this list: in the arts, administrators tend to have permanent jobs with clearer career paths, while ‘creatives’ work on a project-to-project basis, so many performers’ career paths comprise a mix of fringe and mainstream work. The balance may change, and for many the aim is that it tends towards the mainstream. But some fringe projects may still be worthy of involvement: my most notable example of this was seeing Equity stalwart Miriam Karlin in Many Roads to Paradise at the Finborough a couple of years ago.

The point is, it's a dynamic, subtle and rapidly-changing picture. That’s what creativity, innovation and small-scale activity does for an industry. We don’t need to ‘deal with the fringe’: there’s scarce clear agreement even on what it is. It’s not enough that Equity gets a closer grasp of the breadth and nuances involved in the sort of work its members do, why they do it and why the projects happen in the first place. We also need to keep close to the pulse. No sense picking up Time Out and doing deals with all the companies listed there: most of them will be gone in five years. We need to get sensitive and responsive to the ephemeral texture of today’s industry.

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Arts Jobs listing amateur projects

My attention was drawn to a listing on the Arts Jobs site (run by the Arts Council) for unpaid roles in the Henry IVs at http://www.artsjobs.org.uk/arts-job/post/actors-unpaid-henry-iv-parts-1-and-2/

I’ve looked into this, and it seems quite clear that the company is an amateur/community company, whose constitution requires that auditions are open to the general public. From the point of view of their community, it could be a concern that they’re not being open in their selection policy, as their constitution requires. They may have advertised more widely; their local community may indeed be fully aware of opportunities for the general public to get more familiar with Shakespeare. This is a good thing, but it’s not really relevant to the profession (save that we might be hired to act in an educational or advisory capacity).

I don’t believe this is some fly-by-night dodgy employer, but an over-eager group that isn’t especially well-informed. Partly this is based on the evidence; partly my own belief that bad stuff usually comes down to incompetence rather than malice. Call me cynical, but I’ll usually err on the side of ‘cock-up’ rather than ‘conspiracy’: it’s much less fun, but usually more effective at dealing with problems.

So who should help inform the uninformed? The Arts Council? Equity? Both are authoritative institutions in the professional arts world. But the Arts Council also has a specific brief that covers community engagement with the arts. So I got in touch with them:

“A number of colleagues have expressed concern that this posting appears to be in breach of your terms and conditions for posting, that jobs meet the relevant employment law.

Although unpaid, there is no explanation of how this satisfies conditions for exemption from the National Minimum Wage.

Additionally, the company’s own terms establish it as a community organisation, open to all, so posting selectively in a professional forum such as Arts Jobs appears to be disenfranchising the community the project aims to serve.

I am aware of growing concerns amongst actors of unpaid work being advertised. As Arts Jobs has a clearly constituted policy on legal employment, I would be very grateful to hear how you interpret this policy in respect of work that is unpaid.

Kind regards,
Alyn Gwyndaf”

I await their response. Watch this space...

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I've started a blog...

I realise that blogging convention has it that one’s first post really ought to be a self-referential reflection to the effect of ‘I’ve started a blog’, and why.

OK, then. I’ve started a blog.

Why? Mostly because I’m not too good at ‘doing myself’ in short sound-bites but, since I’m standing for Equity Council, feel I ought to give an idea of where I‘m coming from. But why should I want to give an idea of my self, rather than espousing a particular set of policies?

Well, this isn’t a parliamentary election, so it’s not a case of a party offering to get specific things done, and it would be futile and false for me to make such promises. What I can do is give an idea of where I’m coming from, what concerns me and what I care about. These aren’t always simple positions so much as complex discussions. But that is, I suppose, what I want to get on the agenda.

Much of Equity’s decision-making structure is based in an essentially adversarial system, like parliament. A specific proposition is advanced, and people line up and speak for or against it. Where there is a clear and tangible issue, it’s an effective way of getting to a clear decision that represents the majority view. But it doesn’t lend itself well to exploring areas that are more complex and need to be thought through thoroughly before a specific course of action can even be proposed.

Many age-old issues, such as pay and working conditions, have been debated widely, and the options are often clear. However, we are in a time of rapid change, where the very shape of the industry is shifting. Often this stems from new technologies, but the debate is not about the technology itself: it’s about how, for example, digital cameras and non-linear computer editing mean that smaller players can enter the film market, so the balance of power shifts away from the traditional industrial monoliths to smaller and more agile players.

Hence the blog. It’s a way of exploring topics that I believe are relevant, and need to be opened up for discussion, but are too complex or subtle to leap straight into a particular proposition. An example is that of low/no pay work, which seems quite clear-cut if we’re looking at employers who have substantial production budgets, but starts to get rather more murky once we start talking about performers getting together to create their own work, with an aim of profile-raising rather than immediate financial gain.

These are topics to which there are no simple answers. At this stage. But they do need to be put on the agenda and, above all, acknowledged if Equity is to appear relevant to those members who have first-hand experience of the industry as it’s currently shaping up.

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Standing for Equity Council

So, I’ve got myself nominated and am now on the campaign trail to garner support, and indeed to just encourage people to vote.

Why stand? Broadly speaking, because I think it’s a way in which I can usefully help my community. I’ve been involved in running my local branch for a few years, and chairing it for the last two. Although it’s a very active branch, I’m also aware that I know a lot of people who don’t come along to meetings, so their views don’t get a look in. More broadly, they often don’t seem to get a look in on Equity’s overall agenda. So I thought it might be useful if I could speak for them.

Who are these people? Not those who have a high profile, a steady stream of work on Equity-approved contracts, or work with big, well-known companies. They have some work in fringe theatre or low-budget films, often having to work at the same time in another job. Developing a career and earning an income end up being quite separate, and demand twice as much time. Or they have a job that’s properly-paid, but lasts two or three months and they then have to revert to bar or temping work to keep them going until the next acting job. Some have taken control of their careers and put on their own shows, essentially becoming producers, but at the same time still regarding themselves primarily as performers.

That is, for many performers, ‘work’ is now a very mixed bag of rapidly-switching activities. Some fall within Equity’s scope, some don’t. Equity’s definition of ‘professional’ is essentially one of being paid for performing work. That puts a lot of fringe and low-budget work outside Equity’s purview, even though this is the reality of many people’s working lives.

This is not ‘case closed’: there is a choice. Equity does sterling work on agreements for major stage, film and TV employers, but how many members are directly served by these? This is not a rhetorical question: I would genuinely like to see figures on how many members are employed, for what period of time in a year, on agreed Equity contracts. For those who don’t benefit from these contracts (or those who might for two weeks, and don’t for fifty), I believe it’s important that Equity tunes in to the needs of those members in order that its services can serve the broadest membership.

This is happening, slowly. The low/no pay issue is coming onto the Equity agenda. Precisely where this leads is as yet unknown, but it is at least being picked up and discussed. We can’t afford to alienate members by ignoring areas where they might spend the bulk of their professional time. What follows from those discussions is anyone’s guess, but the most important thing is first to get them on the table, so members don’t feel their concerns are taboo, and will at least get a fair hearing.

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