Nudity On Stage: Context and consent matter

by Ashley Griffin

In addition to being a contributing writer for OnStage Blog, Ashley Griffin has appeared on and off-Broadway, as well as in T.V. and film in New York, L.A., London, Stratford, and Chicago. As a writer, Ashley's work has been developed at New World Stages, Broadway's Manhattan Theater Club, Playwrights Horizons, and more. Ashley has taught at NYU and is a member of AEA & the Dramatists Guild.

As Chris Peterson shared: “News broke this week that an audience member secretly recorded a nude scene during the Broadway play, “Take Me Out,” and then posted images and video of cast member Jesse Williams on social media.” The theater where “Take Me Out” is playing has a policy for this show (which has become standard in many venues) of requiring audience members to place phones and smart devices in sealed cases before the performance. Someone deliberately snuck a phone in and took the images.

There’s been much discussion about this incident in the past week. Both the producers and Actor’s Equity have come out against the actions of this bootlegger. But that has turned into an even bigger conversation with some condemning the producers and AEA’s condemnation because, for some people, it seems to be based on “We’re mad because now people are seeing the nudity for free online when we needed the nudity to sell tickets” – claiming the producers’ and AEA’s problem with the incident is simply based in current issues surrounding bootlegging in general.

But, frankly, whatever the intentions of the producers and AEA, whatever the ins and outs of public and professional frustrations are, it has me very concerned that we are completely ignoring the center of why this incident is so problematic – and that has to do with the emotional safety of the performers and understanding the basic concepts of consent.

I’ve heard people express opinions along the lines of “hey, if you agree to appear nude in a show you don’t get to complain about people taking pictures/filming you. You agreed to it, now suck it up. You don’t get to complain.”

As a performer, I wildly disagree. Let me break it down:

If I decide I’m comfortable being nude in a show I am consenting for an audience to see my nudity in the context of the piece I’m performing and theoretically for the edification of the story I am telling. If someone takes a photo or video of my nude body and then starts posting it online – that is wildly inappropriate and something I didn’t consent to. I didn’t consent to nude images being posted out of context and potentially ending up on sites where the sole purpose is for people to “get off” on photos/videos posted. It’s similar to the argument I hear made to women:

“Oh, but if you’re comfortable wearing a bikini on the beach why would you be upset if I walked in on you in your bra and underwear?”

The difference is context and consent.

Sure, the production might be using the nudity to sell tickets but that has nothing to do with the actors having their consent being violated. Of course, there is a risk you take in our tech-heavy society if you agree to be nude in a show but you are trusting your production to uphold their end of the agreement to keep the nudity in the context of that show and only in that context.

There is also a big difference between agreeing to be nude in a theatrical piece and agreeing to be nude in film/T.V. In a film the exact nudity being shown, down to the camera angels, is negotiated in a performer’s contract and a performer agrees to certain shots knowing they will be on posters, in trailers and online forever. And in film you can get very specific: “I’m ok with this part of my body being shown, but not that part.” And guess what? If that gets violated, it’s grounds for a lawsuit. There have (unfortunately) been many instances of film directors taking advantage and shooting something they’re not supposed to – and that has led to legal action.

But negotiating nudity on film is a very different situation from being in a show and having bootleggers just “go at it.”

If I agree to appear nude in a show I am not consenting to photos or videos of my nude body being permanently put on the internet. Those are wildly different things. It’s like saying if I agree to sleep with one person I’m agreeing to sleep with any and every person.

NO.

This disturbs me because it’s the same argument I hear when private nude photos of performers get leaked, often in a “revenge porn” scenario. The default seems to be, “well, if they took the photos in the first place why are they so upset when they get shown to the world? If they took them, they’re asking for it.”

NO.

Context and consent matter and it horrifies me that in these arguments they seem to mean less than nothing. I would also like to point out that “revenge porn” includes the word “porn” for a reason. Out of context, that’s what it is. And that is something the person in the photograph didn’t consent to.

Maybe it’ll help looking at it from these real-life situations:

When I work out I wear clothing that is conducive to my activity. I may wear a sports bra and shorts because that is what I’m most comfortable in. Should someone in my dance class or gym pull out a camera and take pictures of me I would immediately throw on a sweatshirt and notify someone who is in a position to address the situation. I consented for my fellow dancers or gym members to see me in my workout gear. I didn’t consent to be photographed in it for who knows what reason or potential distribution.

I usually wear a two-piece bathing suit to the beach – I am an active swimmer and surfer and want to wear something conducive to athletic activity while not giving me tan lines that might interfere with costume pieces I have to wear. I am not comfortable with someone walking in on me changing and seeing me in my bra and underwear and will call some form of security if a person deliberately does that.

If a fellow actor walks in my dressing room without permission – especially if I’m in any state of undress I will articulate my discomfort to them and to a person in a position of authority. I don’t care if I have a nude sex scene with them onstage. It doesn’t matter.

And let’s also just be super clear – agreeing to nudity onstage is not a black and white situation – “I’m either ok being nude or I’m not.” Once the issue of nudity is addressed that’s where the conversation BEGINS – usually with the performers, director, producers, and intimacy director. Comfort levels are discussed – and keep in mind those comfort levels can change, even from night to night, and most intimacy directors will choreograph in different choreographic “options” that can be adjusted to an actors’ comfort level THAT DAY. Conversations about poster art will happen which the performer can consent to or not. The day publicity photos are taken the performer has the right to ask that certain scenes or moments flat out not be photographed (not just photographed and not used, not photographed in the first place.) If ANY of those consensual decisions are violated that’s grounds for a lawsuit.

A bootlegger deliberately violating theater policy and sneaking a camera into a show with the express purpose of photographing, or filming performers naked and then distributing that material online is the equivalent of someone walking in on you taking a shower at the gym, filming you, and then when you get upset saying: “Hey, you’re naked in a public place. You were asking for it. You’re comfortable with everyone in this locker room seeing you naked so you’re clearly fine with people, in general, seeing you naked. You don’t get to complain.”

The fact that there is still this enormous misunderstanding of what consent means really concerns me. It’s time that we have a serious conversation about it, and I think we should start by talking about the violation that occurred to the cast of “Take Me Out” and the emotional (and potentially other) ramifications it caused these actors. For once can we stop deflecting by making the conversation about money, or ticket sales, or the value or lack thereof of bootlegging theatrical productions and actually talk about how the consent of these actors was violated, their trust (with the audience especially) betrayed and the fact that they had a crime committed against them?

Maybe let’s reframe the conversation and move forward with those issues at the heart of any future endeavors regarding nudity in the theater.