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.

Posted via email from Illusions and Reflections