Edgy and elated: how theatre workers feel about curtain-up during Covid
In the six months since they closed due to the pandemic, theatres have been wrapped in pink ribbon, lit up in red or simply left boarded up. More than 5,000 jobs have been lost, with redundancy consultations ongoing across the country; 70 per cent of theatres face permanent closure. The West End, reliant on tourism that the crisis has all but expunged, is an economic time-bomb. A significant proportion of freelance creatives have received no government support.
According to a recent report, the arts and entertainment industry has 51% of its workforce furloughed. With the scheme expected to end in October, before theatres are likely to fully open, many of those could join the droves of unemployed creative workers. In what has become the government’s modus operandi – bouts of ghosting, followed by a sudden announcement – culture secretary Oliver Dowden has suggested that theatres may be able to properly reopen by Christmas. Under plans he calls “Sleeping Beauty” – signifying panto season, and Prince Dowden giving distressed theatres the “kiss of life” – audiences will be tested for Covid in advance, and chased up days after the show. The fairytale here seems to be how theatres are expected to reopen at the snap of a finger – as though the government thinks all it takes are planks of wood, lights and some Shakespeare sonnets.
Many in the theatre are now at a crossroads. With financial support schemes ending in October, those working on existing shows, or waiting for new productions to start, are faced with months of zero income. Do they sit it out and look for temporary employment, or consider leaving the industry altogether to find more stable streams of income? Lighting designer Howard Hudson tells me a designer friend of his has been delivering pizzas for four months which, along with the self-employment income support scheme (SEISS), means he’s able to make ends meet for his family. Almost overnight, when coronavirus struck, all his scheduled work was cancelled, or postponed until next year. Another theatre worker is a part-time tree surgeon, now considering a move to full-time. Others are opening Amazon, Etsy and web-designing businesses or giving online dance and yoga classes. Some found work elsewhere in Europe, where theatres have regained a sense of normality. If someone had ever suggested to me, even vaguely, the idea of leaving the industry, I would have immediately gone on the offensive. Now, the hope of “making it” as an actor has been swiftly replaced by the sobering realisation that I could be living off baked beans until I’m 60.
Hudson says that more needs to be done to prevent “a mass exodus of some of the best people from the industry”. Hudson tells me many of his longer-running shows need three months at a minimum to get going again. “Theatres can’t be left guessing what or when the next announcement will be. They need to be involved in the planning,” Hudson stresses. “Large productions, like big organisations, employ hundreds of people; it will take time to remobilise, so will the amount of promotion and publicity needed to get audiences back into theatres in the numbers required.” The whole industry won’t be back to work overnight. Hudson suggests an extension of the SEISS scheme, or tax breaks and VAT waivers for producers.
Where does all of this leave actors? The industry often forgets performers are people, and that isn’t more literalised than when performers are identified as the arbitrary numbers stuck on to their leotards. Performers are the most “looked at” among the creative freelance workforce, but they are also overlooked. They will likely have the most contact, too, with other cast members, crew and audience members alike – effectively being at a higher risk of contracting Covid. Without sufficient protection and support, there is a concern that the welfare standards for an already demoralised workforce could be lowered further. But with jobs scarce and the future uncertain, there’s pressure for performers to work and earn – risk and all. “Performers are constantly living on the edge, even without Covid, so now there’s even more pressure than ever to get back to work,” says one actor friend.
Some indoor theatres have already been able to reopen, presenting seasons of work with social distancing measures in place. Southwark Playhouse in London is about to stage a month-long run of Jason Robert Brown’s musical The Last Five Years starring Molly Lynch. The show’s run was cut short by the pandemic earlier this year. “Theatres have already closed, cancelled shows and suffered because of the lack of care shown by this government towards our sector,” says Lynch, who observes that the fuller reopening of venues has come “too late for the many theatres that have already made huge decisions”.
One of the first theatres to announce a socially distanced season was Home in Manchester, with all ticket prices at £10. As a multi-arts venue, its overheads and income are shared with other functions, including its cinemas, bars, catering and visual art exhibitions. Much of the season is online, in case measures for theatres are suddenly rolled back, or there are additional local restrictions. The programme will include Duckie, cabaret star Le Gateau Chocolat’s reimagining of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Ugly Duckling. Gateau tells me how intrinsically linked performers’ identities are to performing. “It’s how we digest, reflect, converse, challenge, educate, grow … So being de-platformed while navigating the health implications of lockdown, isolation and social distancing – as creatures of communion and intimacy – has been anxiety- and depression-inducing. All this is exponentially magnified if your identity’s marginalised; black, queer, disabled … and sometimes, all intersect in one person.”
For Lynch, too, life without performing in – or watching – live theatre has been tough. She says she is thrilled to be returning to Southwark Playhouse and is proud of her team. “I have full trust in Southwark and my producer and director so I feel extremely safe and looked after.” She hopes people come back to the show and also feel safe, inspired and at home after so many months away from the theatre. “For me,” she says, “it’s been like losing my tribe and my sanctuary.”
