This is the third blog in a series of Artist Responses to Paprika’s 22/23 Hot Topics series. In this post, interdisciplinary performance artist and arts worker Stephanie Fung provides a personal response to the ‘What can the future of Toronto Theatre look like?’ online conversation.
I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes bulge out of their head harder than when people find out a queer Chinese-Canadian interdisciplinary performance artist just completed a Metcalf internship…
In 🥳Executive Direction🎉.
Sorry to the national theatre ecology, but I’m just not built for that life. And I have nothing but respect to those with the patience and stamina who do. Still, despite my emotionless break-up with arts administration, I watched the recorded session of the Paprika Festival’s third Hot Topics series What can the future of Toronto Theatre Look Like? as if I was consistently checking on an ex to see how they were doing.
Led by Cheyenne Scott, this round table features four artistic directors in their first official year of leadership, including Cameron Grant (Shakespeare in Action), Mel Hague (Factory Theatre), Joelle Peters (Native Earth Performing Arts), and marcel stewart (bcurrent performing arts).
There’s no one path that led to their positions in leadership. “All of us, as artists, take on a sense of leadership in every project that we do […]” Hague illustrates. “There’s something about marshaling audiences [and just choosing to be in this industry] that requires all of us to stand up in front of an audience and lead them in some way.”
It just so happened that company jobs were better suited for the rhythm they wanted to create in their life, and getting situated in one place provided the ability to immerse themselves with the team, their values, and their goals.
While these bright leaders have creative and ambitious ideas, upon arrival, they are often met with the realities of what their first year will look like. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
No amount of research, planning, or imagination makes you immune to the limitations of money, time, and people.
But there’s a grace period for these artists to acclimate to their new positions through the inheritance of their predecessor’s programming. In Grant’s experience, “That gives you both the time to learn about the organization as things are moving, and start putting your own ideas on the timeline that’s running ahead.”
Amongst the panelists, there are recurring sentiments about maintaining a work-life balance and the pressure as a newcomer to honour the space you’re entering in a way that doesn’t replicate whatever came before you. Former Factory AD Nina Lee Aquino’s committed attendance as an audience member was a critical and personal way for her to support the community she’s a part of, but Hague prefers the intimacy of getting to know artists over coffee. Everyone’s different capacities and preferred avenues of connection and community engagement have their own unique value.
With this massive upheaval in how we understand leadership and collaboration, it feels like the industry is catching up to what artists like myself have been trying to curate for years! And it excites me to see others engaging in the same work, with the same care I aim to bring to the table.
So why do I still find it difficult to imagine their dreams and visions for the future of theatre in Toronto without incredible cynicism?
Every arts organization is knee deep in the mud pit, wrestling each other for the same $20, and we’re still desperately recovering from the structural impact of COVID-19. But collectively, there’s such a focus on where we want to be that we’re not paying attention to where we are or how we’ll even get there.
The pandemic didn’t only interrupt ticket sales and production runs. Our increased dependency on streaming and social media has drastically changed our relationship to art from engagement to consumption. Unprecedented circumstances discourage a willingness to take risks with time or money. And with a rise in automation, the definition and understanding of ‘labour’ has never been more contested.
Theatre, in Toronto, has failed to address any of this. Or maybe the panelists ran out of time (60 minutes is a tight timeline to save the world).
I want to hear concrete steps to implement a shorter work/rehearsal week or support more homegrown works, and not just a desire to do so. I want to see outside-the-box approaches to attract new audience members and increase attendance. I want to know there is a leader who will actively consider and involve technicians and other theatrical cavalries in their artistic and organizational decision-making.
I’d also love to see an artistic leader physically fight a politician for the funding the sector deserve, or at least, against the policies that increase the cost of living and decrease the quality of life in the city. But the core of that curiosity is simply a hunger for a strategy that is tangible, straightforward and visceral. We can’t holistic workshop our way out of burnout or an operational deficit.
Sometimes the desire we have to do what we love clouds our judgment in recognizing what we’re willing to put up with. Sometimes it’s easier to tell ourselves we’re simply lucky instead of mopping up the blood, sweat and tears we’ve poured into our careers. Sometimes we’re so used to bleeding, sweating and crying that we can’t imagine an alternative method of progress.
Unfortunately, I was cursed with the inability to take a back seat in decision-making and an incompatibility with a 9 to 5. In truth, I burned out every other month of my Metcalf internship. It was an incredible hands-on learning experience and I loved everyone I worked with, but I get why so many people have recently left the industry.
Across Toronto, I witnessed a higher turnover rate with theatre companies in the last year than when my multi-hyphenate title also entailed “server-vaccination passport agent” during the peak of the pandemic. I don’t believe for a second that most artistic leaders have taken the time to reflect on, or respond to, the needs and abilities of the people who keep their organizations running–artists, arts workers, and audiences included.
What this Hot Topic session presents is an existing impulse for this kind of change. But as an industry, reputation is a currency we haven’t learned to harness. People in the city already have a desire to attend an artistic experience that’s only available for a limited time! Toronto is full of gimmicky immersive experiences and word-of-mouth based event organizers that have no issue selling tickets–there’s a cool factor about their attendance. It’s high time someone paid attention to a demographic of audiences that aren’t the people who make theatre, or the people who fund it.
I wonder what it’ll take for us to stop seeing and making theatre out of obligation instead of excitement. I think these panelists might already be on the way.
Special thanks to Columbia Roy and Paul Smith.
