by The king is dead – long live the queen. There is something positive to note in the announcement of the new artistic director of the theatre, as we all experienced this week with the appointment of Indhu Rubasingham to that high role at the National Theatre. The excitement that comes with a new vision is at the top – as well as the comfort of reaffirming the time-honored way of doing things. But that comfort feels in jeopardy this time. Cast your eye beyond the National, and the art director looks like an endangered species. This year saw a number of exits from that high-profile job, often after unexpectedly short spells at the helm. Questions have been raised about the viability of this “impossible job” – and some theaters are doing away with it altogether. Should we welcome Rubasingham for the role – or worry that she has taken a job that is no longer fit for purpose?
Let’s get my declaration of interest out first. I’m artistic director – of Camden People’s Theater in London, a job I’m doing cover comics for this newspaper. At CPT, too, we felt the winds of change emerging on the traditional model of theater leadership. The idea of a single leader’s monopoly power goes against the grain of the times. Amplified greatly by the Covid pandemic – which laid bare patterns of privilege in the arts – there is a justifiable push towards sharing power and making it more inclusive. It also feels like a tougher job, post-Covid and in the midst of a cost-of-living crisis, with dwindling arts funding, a beleaguered workforce, and audiences in no rush to return to their pre-2020 theater habits.
What’s happening is that the people who run a building are further and further away from the people who actually make art
Roxana Silbert
In a widely shared X thread this summer, London’s Battersea Arts Center HR Tarek Iskander made at least a brief 33 reasons why the job feels impossible – ranging from “chronically poor pay” and “insecurity for freelancers” to “charity board models that are not fit for purpose”. These factors perhaps helped to explain the year’s massive resignations for theater leaders – Suba Das from Liverpool Everyman (after one year in the job), Gbolahan Obesisan from Brixton House in London (after two years), Roy Alexander Weise and Bryony Shanahan from the office. Manchester Royal Exchange (after three and a half years disrupted by pandemic). In many cases, race was a factor, argued Amanda Parker in the Stage, identifying a “sector-wide failure to develop ethnically diverse artistic leadership in venue-based theater companies”.
But the “impossible job” story doesn’t tell the whole story. Christopher Haydon, HR at the Rose theater in Kingston and author of The Art of the Artistic Director, has just finished re-reading the diaries of Peter Hall, Rufus Norris’s distant predecessor at the NT. “He talks deeply and with real pain about how difficult his role was,” says Haydon. Roxana Silbert is another HR who recently quit, leaving her Hampstead theater role. “I didn’t say anything when all those articles came out saying, ‘Isn’t it hard to be an artistic director and that’s why everyone is leaving’,” she says now. “But that no why is everyone leaving. In my case, the Arts Council grant to the theater was reduced. It is political. We should be more united in acknowledging that there is a desire to contract the arts in this country – and part of that is a reduction in the role of artists.”
Hampstead did not replace Silbert; the theater is now run by “producer and chief executive” Greg Ripley-Duggan. This is not an isolated development. At Brixton House, at Theater Royal Plymouth, at Manchester’s Royal Exchange and beyond, many theaters are experimenting with leadership models that eliminate the role of HR – and (not incidentally, as Silbert sees it) no artists in organizational leadership positions no more.
According to her, this is the end point – or the latest step – in a 50-year process of colonizing the arts by corporate values. Theaters used to be run as artists’ co-operatives: the Royal Exchange had five original ADs. Then the funders demanded financial accountability – so artistic leaders became CEOs. “And then,” says Silbert, “the amount of work you had to do to be accountable grew and grew exponentially,” until it had to be split between HR and an executive director—often in equal measure. -Chief executive. During that period, for the same reasons, theater programs – “which used to be made up of other people who worked in the arts” – became more corporate. “And cultures are top-down,” says Silbert. “If your board is completely corporate, your culture will push in a corporate direction.”
Which brings us to where we are now, with artists being fired from CEO positions, and people who speak and think corporate taking the reins. And yet, these new models are often given a warm welcome. Manchester Royal Exchange is now looking to recruit a new creative director, a role envisioned as one of three artistic directors, alongside a playwright and associate director. A sample response on social media: “This is the future. A dynamic, sustainable model is no longer the only HR in charge. Theaters require flexible creative structures, influence and diverse experiences.” When I speak to Gina Fletcher, deputy CEO of the Royal Exchange, she claims that “there is an expectation of a plurality of voices at leadership level, bringing their own experience and perspective, with a relatively democratic feel” – a principle that everyone can a person in the arts to cope with. .
For Fletcher, restructuring is about “liberating [the artistic leaders] focus on holding the creative vision of the organization”. The creative director is not expected to do theater shows. Fletcher says: “When your artistic director is directing a show, the organization can feel like a lost moment. So it will be interesting to no let’s have those moments in how we work.” It was accepted – celebrated, even – that theaters were run by people who made theater shows. No more.
When I press Fletcher about why the creative director won’t be co-CEO, she points out that the new model generally includes more artists at the leadership level – and that the restructuring is encouraging more artists on the stage of the theatre. When I ask other organizations about their moves in the same direction, they are not so far ahead. No one from Brixton House would speak to me for this article. Hampstead’s Ripley-Duggan said the same, although he recently told the Stage that he is coming to the conclusion that “the HR role (previously) is not complicated – if you have an open space and he says that first of all, people will send [plays] your way”. So that’s it.
For Silbert, whose job was once, none of this convinces. “What you’re getting is the people running the building further and further away from the people who actually make art.” The idea that power is being democratized in these new models is a “myth”, she says, “because the power remains with one person, but that person is now the executive director”.
“An organization has to be financially sustainable,” says Chris Haydon. “But the purpose of the organization is not to be financially sustainable, the most important thing is to create great theatre. Yes, you need someone who understands the money in charge. But plenty of artists fit that bill.” He quotes David Lan, ex-Young Vic, Rubasingham, formerly of the Kiln theater and Rupert Goold, of the Almeida, as saying: “They all have an iron grip on finance, but they structured their theaters and as that was the most important art. “
The ones who fumble around trying to find something to hold on to – they’re the ones who always want different models
None of the ADs – or former ADs – I speak to is against change. Everyone agrees that HR need not be directors – they can be writers (like David Greig at the Edinburgh Lyceum), actors (the Globe’s Michelle Terry) or indeed choreographers, like theater newcomer Drew McOnie the Open Air in Regent’s Park, London. No one is tied to the idea of a single art director; duos (such as RSC’s Daniel Evans and Tamara Harvey) and trios are welcome. And “an artistic director does not have to mean an artistic dictator”, in the words of Haydon. “There are different ways to ensure accessibility, accountability and transparency in an organization – but you can have them with an individual, or with a single job title.” Most HR today see sharing their power and privilege as part of the job. At CPT, to cite an example close to home, we have initiated a New Programmers Scheme to train future HRs, and invite them to maintain parts of our programme.
But the important thing is that the word “art” is still prominent in the job title (Haydon: “I don’t understand why they’re afraid of the word ‘art'”), and the role keeps its place at the organization. apps. That model has always worked, says Matthew Xia, HR of the London-based Actors Touring Company, speaking on social media in favor of artist-run organisations. “The buildings that are thriving, like the Bush, with an artistic director in charge, or the Sheffield theatres, and even those that are going through and doing OK – they’re all artist-led. And the ones that are splashing around in the water trying to find something to hold on to are the ones that are always looking for different models.”
Chris Haydon only has an HR today because when the Rose tried to work without one, it didn’t work. “They went back to an artistic director model,” he says, “because without one, the organization didn’t have a clear vision and identity” – that’s where he came in. Xia says: “I don’t want to bother anyone. for trying whatever model they think will make their organization the best it can be. But that does not change my opinion that, if I were the chairman of the board, I would say, ‘Let’s try to find an artistic director for this organization and the right vision for it, right now’.”
The National Theater board clearly agreed – but it’s not an agreement we can continue to take for granted.
