Live in living color...

Now where was I before I was interrupted by that public service announcement for actors (Baby fineness is the way to kill)

Oh yeah...

I was living the dream: Auditioning, taking classes and voice lessons. I was also doing shows, and working on the opportunity to get my Equity card. My friend Louise, with whom I shared the bitter bench, was also trying to get her card. As was Arthur. We were all in the same boat but approaching it different ways.

I was sharing an apartment, or rather sleeping on a sofa bed in the living room of Sean’s apartment. Sean and I met during what was to be one of my last non-equity shows. Sean introduced me to several dance teachers and class. Louise was a dancer. I had met her while taking class with Sean and Noah, another friend. Since Louise and Sean were friends, she and I became friends. She was making ends meet by assisting a well-known choreographer.

I had done summer stock with Arthur. When it was over I need a place to crash until I found an apartment. He invited me to stay with him, which I did until he kicked me out the night before I was to move into my pied a tier. He was going through some family stuff and needed space (but that’s another story) Naturally, I forgave him and we moved on with our friendship. It was he who needed help now. He asked for my former temp agency information. He signed up and was working in offices while waiting for his big break.

I was waiting tables on a dinner cruiser that sailed around Manhattan.

Arthur’s break came first. He was hired to do a TYA (Theatre for Young Audiences) tour. The company always had several tours going on at once. Arthur was lucky enough to be cast in one of them. At the end of which he was given his Equity Card.

Then Louise got her card doing a dance show at a regional theatre for a Broadway director/choreographer.

I was contemplating auditioning for the TYA touring company, but had decided not to. I had heard horror stories about them and the conditions they worked under. Though Arthur had had a fine time on his. When I told him I wasn’t going, he told me that was a bad decision. If I wanted my card this was the easiest way to get it. The other way, besides being cast in a standard Equity show, was to work at Equity houses for a point per week. After 50 points, or 40 points and a test, one could join the union.

I considered it. Fifty weeks was almost an entire year. And theatres have to actively participate in the point program. I think they pay some sort of a fee. Most choose not to be a part of the program.

After weighing the options, I went to the audition. It was my first real audition as a singer. I had transitioned from a dancer to a dancer/singer and now to a singer. I was worried about being seen. There are tons of singers in NYC. It turned out fine though. Since the company was quite used to hiring non-equity people, as long as I was there early enough and signed up before they closed the list, I would definitely be seen.

The audition went off without a hitch. The call backs were great. In truth they wanted me so badly that they offered me my choice of shows. I was dumbfounded. Never in my whole career had that happened. And the fact that it happened while I was auditioning as a singer blew my mind.

Despite my misgivings about the company, I picked a show and I took the contract. When the tour finished I would have my card. I would finally be an Equity member. However finishing the tour proved to be a herculean feat in itself.

There were six of us stuffed in a van full of sets and costumes and our luggage. One was a drunk. One was a narcissist. One was a doormat. One was angry and aggressive, and one was a “pot stirrer”. You know the type, someone who looks for any little issue and then they push that issue into a full out nuclear war. And then there was me.

It was six months of hell. I thought about filing an official complaint with Equity. In the end I decided it was not worth the effort. I had endured and I got my card. I thought no one would believe the word of a newly minted member anyway.

So many people had warned me about getting my Equity card. They all said joining Equity was easy. That was just being cast in a show. It was being cast in the second show that would take a while.

In the general professional population, the circles of contracted actors is incredibly small. The people behind the tables like to reuse performers if they can. It’s like buying the same brand of laundry detergent. You know it does the job, so why try something else. New, untried, unproven faces tend not to get very far. I think this is because most new members only have the one professional (professional meaning Equity) show or theatre on their resume. Hence they are to some, unproven.

That wasn’t the case for me.

If you remember, I had worked at an Equity theatre. I had done several shows, both musicals and operas, at an Equity house back home, while I was still in university. And while I wasn’t cast in the Equity portion of their seasons, the Theatre didn’t differentiate between the pre-season non-equity shows and the season’s equity shows, save for payment to the actors and ticket pricing. So getting my next Equity gig wasn’t as difficult as they all said it would be.

About four months after finishing the tour I saw an audition posted. It was for a show at a regional theatre quite near NYC. The show was to be the first production after the Broadway run. Most importantly there was a part in it for me. And before you ask, no I did not audition for the Broadway production, even after I was told I looked like the lead. Insecurities won that battle. But I was determined not to let them win again.

I got up early in the morning. I stood in line outside to get an appointment. I got an appointment. Then went home and prepared for the audition. I had the perfect song, the perfect headshot and the perfect outfit. I was ready.

I arrived ten minutes before my appointment time. Walked into the audition room. Sang my little song and walked right back out. Nothing. No interest what so ever.

My bestie, Thurston was also Equity, went to the call. At the time we were the same type, although different versions of that type. He went in. They loved him. I think he sang a couple songs. He got called back to read a couple times. We just knew he had the part.

A few weeks later, another audition notice was posted for the same theatre and the same show for that same role that both me and my bestie went in for. He was devastated. That’s how he found out he wasn’t cast. I knew before the notice that I wasn’t being considered for the role, so it didn’t affect me at all. In fact, I decided to go back and audition again. Same song. Same outfit. Same me.

I booked it. And not only did I book it, I got a good review from the New York Times. My second Equity show paid a nice weekly salary, gave me enough weeks for insurance and planted me firmly in the pension plan. And a New York Times Review!

Meanwhile, Noah, Thurston’s boyfriend at the time, wasn’t Equity. He was struggling with the city and auditions and the whole lot of it. I think there was something nagging at him. His boyfriend had his Equity card and had been on Broadway. He had not.

Noah took, what was at the time, a new route to getting his card. He had auditioned for and got cast at one of Disney’s theme parks. So he and Thurston packed up and moved down to Florida.

After my second Equity gig, I continued to work. I did On a Clear Day..., My One and Only (for the second time), a review show in Brooklyn, Miss Saigon, Joseph... (for the fourth time), Oklahoma, West Side Story, The King and I, My One and Only (again), Anything Goes and a host of other shows both new and old, large and small.

Louise decided Broadway was where she belonged. After her first Equity gig, she only auditioned for high profile things. Not only that, the projects had to take place in the city. She was a full on Dance teacher now, with classes at one of the most prestigious studios in New York City. She couldn’t go out to the regions and leave her students. This was her survival job.

Arthur high-tailed it to Germany to star in a show there. He also worked in the UK, under their Equity and then did two or three gigs back in the states.

After coming back from a long gig, I decided to set down some roots in NYC. My friend Helga and I had been sharing space in Sean’s apartment. We decided to find our own place. So we moved out of the living room in midtown Manhattan and into a three bedroom apartment in Queens.

Helga worked as a supervisor at a concessions stand. She was staunchly non-equity. It worked for her, meaning she worked all the time. She would go out on this tour and that tour. Then she would work at this theatre in New Jersey or Vermont or where ever. It was what she did. She was happy where she was. And now she and I had a comfortable home base to work out of.

I thought this was the life. I had finally paid off my student loans. I had my own proper bedroom with windows and a door. I had a great roommate, who mostly shared my tastes in decorating and living habits. I had my Equity card. I was set. Time to dig in and make a name for myself.

I knew continuing with classes and lessons was the way to go. It’s the quickest way to be in the thick of things. It’s also the only way to be ready to be hired. Naturally this takes time, so I tried to work as little as possible. But now I had financial responsibilities and they were starting to pile up.

Noah and his now husband Thurston are still in Florida. Noah is still working at Disney under an Equity contract. They have a house with a yard, two cars a pool and a vibrant social life. Thurston travels around Florida doing shows at small theatres after being on Broadway a couple times and doing tons of first national tours. They got stability. And insurance, and Equity jobs. They live and work as medium sized fish in a medium sized market.

Louise never made it to Broadway. In fact she’s only done a handful of shows after her initial Equity contract. She’s now a director and choreographer here in the city. She’s working on a new show with a star name that might just get produced on the Great White Way. So maybe some part of her will make it there after all.

Arthur knows what his type is. He keeps tabs on all the actors who are that type and what they’re doing. Since it’s a very specific type, those actors tend not be bounce around from show to show, but rather stay put for the length of a contract, be it Broadway or otherwise. I hear Arthur’s teaching voice now and just finished performing in a show. I wouldn’t know for sure though. After more incidents between the two of us, I decide to no longer associate with him. I’m sure he’s doing well though.

Helga got her secret wish. After yet another tour, she went home to visit her parents and met a man. She left our three bedroom bliss and got married. She still performs. She does those hospital patient things. She also sings with her band, which is becoming quite popular. She has a house, a husband and a small career. She’s still non-equity and she’s happy.

After being too afraid to go to a callback for a new (and later hit) Broadway show, I was now auditioning for Broadway. I had even been put on the waiting list for a show, but the show closed before I was used. The closer I came to Broadway, the further away the contract seemed to be. Somewhere in there I noticed the higher I climbed the professional ladder, the longer it took to book another show.

There were other things I noticed as well.

The salaries for Equity had little change. In fact special contracts and tiers were made to accommodate producers and to provide more work for Equity members. That’s great. But that work is paid at a lower wage.

Amir got his Equity card, got his Broadway credit and got out. The Business of show wasn’t lucrative enough or fulfilling enough for his tastes. He now lives in a refurbished farmhouse in Vermont. I believe he works for an insurance company.

The amount of points needed to join the union was lowered from fifty to twenty five. A slew of actors with 25 weeks of EMC (Equity Membership Candidate) work or more, officially joined the ranks of Equity. This flooded the union with much need funds to pay for new representatives in the regions and new programs. Most of which the common union members know very little about.

Manuel never had an interest in joining the union. Years before I knew him he was working constantly. And now years later he still is. He teaches, choreographs and occasionally performs. He’s never had a survival job. Ever. He’s always been able to live quite comfortably on what he makes from his non-Equity work. He and his husband just bought a house in Palm Springs.

New audition sign up procedures were put in place. No longer did one have to wake up at the crack of dawn and stand outside for hours in all kinds of weather to get an audition time. Now an actor just needs a fast internet connection and a prayer to get an audition slot. Or if that doesn’t work, one can wake up at the crack of dawn and stand outside in all kinds of weather to get one of the times set aside...Progress?

To qualify for the union pension, an actor has to be “vested”. I’m not quite sure what that means or how one goes about doing it. But you have to be in order to receive money when you reach retirement. I’m vested with the union. Although with finances being the way they are, I doubt I’ll ever be able to fully retire.

Once an actor is Equity, he or she can join the Actors Federal Credit Union. This is a banking system exclusively for theatrical professionals. They offer all the amenities of a regular bank, but the money in the bank works for the union members. There is even a credit card, which I have and need to pay off. So, while I wait and audition for my next performing gig, I need to have a day job.

Working as a waiter on the dinner cruiser was no longer an option. I wasn’t aware of it at the time but I was mildly allergic to the air conditioning system. I only found out once I had left for a long period of time. I gained three high notes to my register just by not working there. I was a singer now. I could not afford the effects of working that job. I abhor working in corporate offices so that is a last resort kind of thing. So I turned to working as a cater waiter. Good money, easy job and no pandering for tips. I have the ability to make my own schedule. That means I could work and still go to auditions and classes and lessons.

Pedro’s a really great dancer. He’s danced on Broadway several times. He’s even partnered Chita Rivera. He’s given up on the business though. He’s one of those people who went to school for medicine or law or something, got a degree and then decided he wanted to perform. He’s back to doing work made possible by his higher education degree.

Once upon a time there was a difference between union and non-union performers. The difference was never in talent or drive or any of the fundamental things that make a performer a performer. It was in what the union provided performers that we could not get elsewhere, like health insurance.

Now the government has made it possible for an individual to purchase health insurance. There is no longer a need to work a steady day job to get coverage. So even if an actor isn’t blessed with working 24 weeks on stage, or having insurance through a day job, he or she can still be insured.

The salaries for non-union work have generally increased. That’s not to say they are on par with production contracts, but non-union tours can pay as well as if not better than most SETA (Small Engagement Touring Agreement) contacts. Some non-union work even gives you a W-2, which could allow claiming of unemployment insurance.

There are now ways to plan for retirement as a non-equity performer as well. You can open IRAs, and online trading. There are a number of things that have the potential to generate funds for the golden years. But let’s be honest, even the best pension plans can go bust if the markets turn sour. We’ve seen it happen, as recently as ten years ago.

What Equity does give an actor is collective bargaining. That means there are people in place who, in theory, are looking out for an actor’s best interests. They set minimum wage amounts for actors. They set audition and working conditions for actors. They provide arbitration for grievances within the performing community and sometime outside the community depending on the programs available through the Actors Fund. Equity lobbies for more union jobs and boycotts places that break union rules and contracts. In short, Actors Equity is a security system put in place to protect actors from unscrupulous producers and illicit situations.

That being said, it’s quite rare to hear of a non-equity company, or theatre or tour that violates basic working conditions and human rights. Actors are not afraid to speak up. It may be on the down low, but you will hear when something or someone is more trouble than they’re worth. And if there is a company/theatre/tour you as a performer aren’t familiar with, it’s your job to investigate them BEFORE you sign the contract.

And always get a written contract.

Fast forward a few (ahem) years later and I’m still catering. I’m not taking dance classes very often. Most of the great teachers have moved on, one way or another. Not really taking voice lessons either. I’ve not found someone who can teach me what I need to learn, while honoring my type and my talent, who is affordable.

I still frequent auditions. Although where Helga and I once did seven non-equity auditions together in one day, I’m lucky to have one audition a week. Mostly because I’m selective of what I want to do. It’s also a tough online battle to actually sign up. It’s our “Hunger Games”. And I’ve aged into another category. Now I’m up against Tony winners and Broadway names for projects.

Everyone wants to work. Everyone wants to do good work and be paid their worth for that work. Actors Equity helps do that though the system they have set in place. Going Equity is the answer for a lot of the people, a lot of the time. But it does not work for everyone. A performer can have a solid, lucrative and long career without ever becoming Equity.

Broadway is the only true reason to get your equity card. You can’t work there without one. But are you ready for Broadway? I wasn’t. But now I am.

So I’m a union actor. I am staunchly pro-union. That works for me. For now. But I advocate not joining the union until an actor has significant credits on their resume. Delay getting your card until you’ve done all you can do in the non-Equity world. For some that means never taking the card. That’s especially true for older actors and actors that fall into marginalized categories. There is more work for them (us) outside of the union than there is inside, especially in the upper echelons of the performing world.

In the end, it’s each individual’s decision to go “pro” or not. There are no right answers. No wrong answers either. Just informed choices. The key word being “informed”.  

Find out what your type is, like Arthur did, and see where and how much those people are working. Then decide.

Realize what it is you really want, like Helga and go for that.

Know what your true passion is, like Pedro and do that sooner rather than later.

You’ll be happier, like Amir, once you stop chasing the thing you thought you wanted but couldn’t really care less about.

Or you can flourish without an Equity card like Manuel.

I’ve not gone into detail about all the wildly successful and well-known people I’ve worked with, like Chandra Wilson. We know their stories. We see them played out in front of us. We go to seminars and lectures and classes taught by them and dream about it being us. We secretly think that if we go to the same school, and play the same roles and do the same things they did, it will happen to us. We will become the next Norm Lewis or Gina Torres or Emily Skinner.

The truth is, there is no one definitive career path to fame and stardom or even booking a performing gig.  As an actor, you have to make your own choices. And one of biggest choices includes whether to join Actors Equity or not.

And if the first choice doesn’t get you what you want or where you want to go, choose again. It’s not a big deal, because...

“...Life ain’t lived in black and white.”