Our theatre company offers what we call "Break-a-Legs" to our cast and crew.  It's ad space in our program for well wishes from family or friends.  It makes a few bucks but certainly doesn't pay for anything substaintial.  If they can't afford to produce a show without forcing thier VOLUNTEERS to help pay the bills prehaps they should rethink doing the show.

I’m going to take a little different approach to this issue, but first, let me say that I don’t agree with requiring actors – or anyone else for that matter – to raise funds in any manner for a production.  But here’s where I may get in a bit of trouble with a lot of people:  I do think actors – and anyone else involved with a show for that matter – need to be far more involved with the financial and organizational viability of their show and the theatre they are involved with.  This goes back to my premise that the very essence and nature of community theatre is embodied by the declaration:  “Hey, kids, let’s put on a show!”  I want to focus on the contraction let’s.  Let us put on a show. 

Okay, I was going to try to avoid it, but I’ll just go ahead and say it:  there’s no “I” in us. 

There are way too many participants, especially actors, in community theatre who behave much like prima donna athletes:  it’s all about me.  Without me, there wouldn’t be any show.  You know what, without the theatre, there wouldn’t be any show, either! 

I’m going to go on a little tangent, here, and get real basic.  The great British director Peter Brook wrote a book many years ago entitled, The Empty Space.  His premise was this:  A person enters an empty space and takes an action.  Another person witnesses that action.  An act of theatre has just taken place.  If I’m doing street theatre, which I’ve done, I have met Mr. Brook’s requirements:  a street corner (the space, which may or may not be empty), a person taking an action on the street corner (an actor), and passersby stopping to watch the action (an audience).  In this most basic of theatrical presentation, as an actor, I am the entire theatre.  Except for someone to look at what I’m doing (no matter how fleeting that attention may be), I don’t need anything from anyone and no one needs anything from me, except any talent I may have to give.

If I’m a professional actor, then I want to get paid for my talents.  On the street setting, payment may be passing the hat (which I’ve also done).  In a professional theatre, there’s a defined contractual arrangement:  I don’t have to do anything else but provide my talents at the times and locations specified by the contract and in exchange, I get a paycheck.  Where the money comes from is none of my concern. 

But we’re talking about community theatre and in community theatre, where the resources come from is everyone’s concern.  Indeed, all three elements are everyone’s concern:  the actors, the performance space, and the audience.  There may be one person or a committee of people whose primary responsibility is to attend to one of those elements, but we must all lend support to as many of those areas as we have time and talent to do so.  Too often, community theatre management (whether that’s paid staff or boards of directors) gets way too frustrated over the lack of support from participants, so they try to put into effect a lousy policy, like a requirement that all cast members sell ads. 

In a separate topic on these boards there is a discussion about the importance of theatre and show leadership saying thank you to participants.  What this is about is the importance of participants supporting the organization that feeds their passion.  We must always remember that community theatre is a two-way street.