A Plea to Artists: Own Your Worth
Niki Hatzidis, Features Editor
It’s not surprising that in an unprecedented global crisis, people are turning to artists to fill the space between productivity and complete despair. We are consuming film, television, virtual art galleries, concerts, and even theater in a time where we need a little escapism, joy, and beauty. I know artists who have completely lost their income, have had shows and gigs canceled and are unsure about what lies ahead for all creative industries. I not only want this time to be an opportunity to self-assess, reflect, wallow and create, all of which are necessary to cope during this time, I also want us to take this time to prepare to raise hell. I want us to value ourselves, our worth, and when we start to reopen the world again, I want us to demand more.
By now most of us have seen various versions of a meme who’s sentiments come down to, “in a time of crisis, remember you turned to artists.” This is definitely something everyone should acknowledge and recognize, but they will only be hollow, empty words unless attitudes towards artists change. For that to happen artists need to demand that change and work hard for it.
It was announced this last week that Broadway will be closed indefinitely until at least September, and though this a hard blow to many, we understand that this is the safest and smartest way to move forward. Going to the theater is something we cannot rush and if we want our industry to survive, we have to be clever, adaptable, and resilient. It still really sucks though. As a creative person used to going to rehearsals, co-working creative spaces, and writing groups each week, this new normal had been a rough adjustment. There are days I don’t want to create, days where I really long to but can’t help staring at a blank page, and then there are days where creativity seems to be seeping out of every pore of my body. It is in these creative spurts that I feel most alive, most hopeful, and most worthy. Most creatives I have spoken to feel the same way. Making art is a hobby, a calling and a job all rolled into one. I am amazed by my community and how they are continuing to produce work, art, and optimism.
It is hard to not create with others. Artists are inherently collaborative and communal folks but I’m taking a deep breath and reminding myself that this is not forever. We will all be able to create together again. Where I find solace is in all the creative mediums that artists have produced and are sharing with the world. From content on streaming sites to free theater online to curling up with a book that has been sitting on our nightstands for months, we are absorbing artistic content; everyone is around the world. I want us to remember this.
I also want us to remember that things weren’t all sunshine and roses for the creative industries before this. We have had to fight cuts to artist funding, high rents on studios, and production companies excepting to use our talents for free. Not to mention the universal attitude towards arts being frivolous, not a “real” job, or the notion that artists are people with their heads in the clouds that need to fall back down to the real world. We are criticized and ridiculed for being dreamers. When these ideas are thrown in my face, I challenge people to imagine living without art for a day; no music, no books, no television. Imagine what this quarantine would be like without artistic content. Society has not treated creatives very kindly, and now, when everything is falling apart, they are leaning on our contributions.
Things cannot go back to the way they were. We cannot let it go back. Way before this pandemic, I made a conscious decision to not work for free as an artist. I have had years of training and experience, and I refused to act for no pay and hand over my plays for nothing so that others could make a profit from them. I felt I had paid my dues and that I was no longer going to ignore my worth. The only exception I made was with fellow artist friends, those whose work I valued and wanted to collaborate with. But now I worry that if I want to continue to be an artist I will be expected to share my work for free.
There will have to be exceptions, but since we have seen how much the world needs us, we need to say no to those projects that offer no pay. Production companies will be struggling after this, it will take time for people to get back on their feet. We have already seen institutions close their doors forever. If there is a company, a person you would like to work with and further both your creative opportunities, by all means, do that. As I said, artists thrive in community and collaborative settings and sometimes that is enough to enrich your worth and your creative soul. We need to stick together through all of this. It is the only way we will survive and thrive.
What I am talking about are production companies that have budgeted for the sound engineer, the editor, and the cameraman, but for some reason expect the actors to work for a meal or an IMBD credit. The theater companies that take a playwright’s play, don’t pay the actors but make a hefty profit from their box office. Do you know why they got away with it before? Because actors, playwrights, production designers, etc, said “ok, I’m fine with that, I would like this on my resume.” There is merit to this, we all need to gain experience somehow. However, it is up to a point. If there are people willing to work for free they won’t give you the job if you demand pay. It’s as simple as that. Performance companies have to cut corners somewhere too sometimes.
We all have to be a collective unit and say, “no more.” People need artists and we need to be able to pay our rent, because this is a job. It is not just a hobby, it is a worthy and commendable profession. We are not products that make other people money, we are people who create something that other people need. So we need to demand work rights. We need a union that is there to help everyone in the industry, not one that is impossible to join even if you are working in the industry. We need to know we can go into a job and there is an entity we can call on that will help us with pay disputes, long rehearsals with no breaks, and abusive behavior. In this pandemic, artists who had worked for little pay, have not accumulated enough proof of work and pay to qualify for relief funds, and most have lost their health insurance. Some can’t even qualify for unemployment benefits because they did not make enough.
We need to be aggressive and form advocacy groups for new legislation. We need to be able to go to our government officials and argue the importance of arts funding. Most companies can’t afford to pay their artists a living wage because of how expensive it is to actually put on a production. The high cost of theater spaces, equipment, props, costumes makes it nearly impossible. What if there was a government grant they could apply for? What if theater and independent film companies were considered viable business ventures in the eyes of the government? What if production spaces could be subsidized by the government and actors could get a weekly wage that didn’t depend on selling out the first week of performances?
How might that fix the wealth gap for artists? It has become apparent that in order to make it as an artist, you might have to come from a wealthy class. If your family is more well off, you might be able to afford that class with that casting director, not have to worry about submission fees for your script or you might not need to have a survival job that sucks up all your time and energy so you could actually make it to that audition. Companies wouldn’t have to charge submission fees, fellowships might attract those who won’t need two other jobs in order to gain the experience and contacts they need. What kind of artist will gain opportunities to show their work? How much more diverse would our creative communities look?
I am not someone who is despairing about the future of the theater and film industries. Yes, we do not know what lies ahead. We don’t know how social distancing will affect the ways we tell our stories. But if human history has taught us anything is that we have always needed artists. There has been famine, there have been wars and plagues and art has still survived. I have no doubt in my mind that people will always be hungry for the arts, for the community, and for our stories. I believe the arts will thrive from this; just showing from all the art that we are creating at home now. Art will be here in the end.
What I am worried about is that this will create an opportunity for artists to be continually used and not respected. I am afraid that artists will be expected to just work on their craft and produce art for free. We all have to stick together and say, “I know what my work is worth, I know that it is of value in this chaotic world, I need to eat too. So no, you can not have it for free.” We have a lot of work ahead, we have to organize, we have to fight. This pandemic has shined a light on the value and necessity of art, so we should listen, take note, and fight for ourselves. So I want us to take this time to heal, to process, to continue to create if we can, but we have to prepare to raise hell because this pandemic has shown us that we have every right to.
Niki Hatzidis is the features editor for OnStage Blog. She is a writer, actor, and an award-nominated playwright based in New York City. NikiHatzidis.com
Photo By: Alexas Fotos