REPRESENTATION

Four Individuals with Historically Excluded Voices

Share Their Paths into Technical Theatre

by Jennifer Goff

How does one measure representation in the theatre?

In 2002, the New York State Council on the Arts released their “Report on the Status of Women: A Limited Engagement” in which they explored primarily the dearth of women playwrights and directors on American stages. (In the seasons studied, women directors topped out at 23% and playwrights or playwriting teams that included women at 20%.) This report, though certainly not the first of its kind, was a significant touchpoint in early 21st century theatre on the road to recognizing the numerous ways in which a variety of voices and identities have historically been excluded from the theatre. But representation does not stop with playwrights and directors.

In 2006, The Asian American Performers Action Coalition began their annual tracking of “Ethnic Representation on New York City Stages,” casting a spotlight on not only the plays written and directed, but the roles within those plays, as measures of diversity, difference and equity. Their 10th anniversary report on the 2015-2016 season noted that 36% of roles on Broadway were occupied by minority actors – a record high over the decade. But representation does not stop with actors.

In 2015, Porsche McGovern published what would become the first in a nearly annual installment of data tracking the gender breakdown of lead creatives working in LORT theatres across the country. The study, which started out tracking male/female representation and has grown to measure representation based on pronoun, noted the unsurprising fact that, in all design areas except for costume design, men continue to be overrepresented. In the 2020 iteration of this report, McGovern notes that, “Of the 15,311 design positions, 68.9% were filled by he designers, 31.0 percent were filled by she designers, 0.1 percent were filled by they designers and less than 0.1 percent were filled by she/they designers.” But representation does not stop with designers.

In September 2021, USITT published a study in partnership with SMU DataArts that attempted to parse demographic distinctions within “Entertainment Design & Technology” positions. As this data was collated through a survey process rather than through assessing public bios (as is McGovern’s process), they gathered more intricate data sets, breaking down distributions in a variety of positions by gender identity, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation. In every field, at least 79% of the respondents in every role identified as white, and at least 52% of respondents in every field identified as male (except, again, in costume/ wig and makeup design and technology).

The behind-the-scenes leaders in tech hold perhaps some of the least widely known positions in the theatre. Even the stagehand who executes a flawless scene change is more visible to the average audience member than a master electrician or a technical director. And there’s the old adage that you only ever notice a stage manager when something goes wrong. The invisibility that is built into the technical positions that do so much of the heavy lifting in creating theatrical magic may well be one of the greatest barriers to establishing greater representation in those fields.

Representation matters: Meet four tech workers who broke barriers.

On the pages that follow, we feature individuals with historically excluded voices who have succeeded in some of these “invisible” tech jobs: a woman who has worked for years in the field of audio; a Black man who is a production manager; a trans, multi-racial man who trained as a technical director and works in a variety of roles; and a woman working as a head electrician and stagehand. They share what their jobs encompass, the challenges they have faced, and advice for others who aspire to hold similar roles.

OPPOSITE PAGE: A University of Alabama student operates the lighting console at the dress rehearsal for the Alabama Repertory Dance Theatre’s Fall 2018 production of Essentially Nina, choreographed by Lawrence M. Jackson. Those working in tech positions in theatre have traditionally been mostly white and male, but the field is beginning to become more diverse.

Wedel

Please describe the work you do in your current position.

I run the Audio Department at Baltimore Center Stage (BCS), which includes everything from planning and budgeting seasons to working with the sound designers on each production to help fully realize their designs. In addition to our mainstage shows, BCS also produces smaller events, and we have countless rentals and events all over the building that I ensure are staffed and set up for the event’s sound needs. I am responsible for hiring audio staff and overhires for the season. As the audio director, my scope also encompasses a lot of interdepartmental needs, such as maintaining the stage managers’ cube and the building’s complex paging, monitoring and lobby systems. I also manage BCS’s inventory of walkie-talkies, which are on an FCC license, as well as maintain other vital access programs like Assisted Listening and Audio Description. I am also the COVID safety manager for BCS with a small team of other certified officers. How did you get into your line of work?

I fell in love with theatre early on when I saw Annie at 5 years old. I didn’t really know it was something I could do for a living until high school, and since I am a horrible actor, I ended up gravitating to the more technical aspects. I went to a small private liberal arts college, Monmouth College, where I was given the freedom to really explore all the tech aspects of theatre. I would design lights quite often and sets as well; however, I would always revert to running sound for productions because it was more exciting than running the light console. (Sorry, lighting friends.)

I thought I would go into lighting or set design, but everyone always wanted me for sound, due to my experience running it. I took sound internships at Starlight Theatre in Kansas City, MO, and Berkeley Rep. I then went to Actors Theatre of Louisville (ATL) for two years, where I was the assistant audio engineer. I met my mentor, Marty Desjardins, and learned so much about systems and how they worked. I always felt that when sound became pushing a button that it would be the end of my board op days.

When I moved on from ATL to the Dallas Theater Center (DTC), that is exactly what happened. I spent four years at DTC as the sound supervisor, where I was able to really work on how to manage a department and work with designers and directors to achieve their vision.

I moved to Baltimore and began my journey as the audio director in the fall of 2003, and over the lengthy time at BCS, I have been able to really hone my management skills. It was easy to be collaborative because my production colleagues at BCS have all been wonderful and so easy to work with. I have designed a few shows over the course of my career, but the dream for me was never to be a sound designer full-time. For me, it has always been about having a home base with colleagues you can collaborate with to make incredible art. The work-life balance has always been important to me, and having a steady job at a regional theatre where I can work with so many visiting artists has been the best choice. What are some of the most significant challenges you have faced in your career path?

Certainly sexism early on in my career was a big challenge. I have had, unfortunately, a few scary situations with designers early on in my career where they would get in my face and scream at me. I didn’t always have someone to stick up for me in those cases, which has made me a strong advocate for myself and others when I feel someone is out of line in their behaviors toward others.

I didn’t go to school for a sound degree, so I have had a lot of on-the-job learning. I have always tried to be humble in what I know and don’t know, and I have always taken whatever lesson or instruction from people in my field that they were giving.

What was the best advice that you received along the way?

I think the best advice is somewhere along the lines of trying to remember to breathe and keep a good balance of life outside the theatre while still doing your best while working. What advice do you have specifically for other folks who might be interested in jobs like yours, but who don’t usually see themselves represented in these positions?

I would say to just be open and take notes on everything. You can learn so much from everyone around you that you could apply to your own work, but also theatre isn’t just one department/ aspect. It takes a huge collaboration of many different specialties to create a production. Opening your eyes and ears to what others are doing and how it all goes together will get you so much further than staying in your own little world.

Theatre is a small, small world, so you should know that it isn’t always who you list on your resume, but who someone knows based on your resume, that will determine if you get the job. I have hired (and not hired) many people based on the recommendation of someone I trusted who worked with them, and often those people were not listed as references.

Please describe the work you do in your current position.

As a production manager, my role is to facilitate the production elements of the show from the conceptual design phase to what you see on stage. This includes running design and production meetings, coordinating the production elements across all departments, assisting in problem-solving challenges that come up, and managing logistics. I am also in charge of maintaining our company calendar, coordination for any special events that come up, and generally supporting the Production Department in any way they need. How did you get into your line of work?

I graduated from Georgia Southern University with a BA in Theatre. My focus was primarily stage management, though I was also our scene shop foreman and master electrician, did a few designs, and even acted in a show. My thought was that, as a stage manager, I wanted to learn how to communicate with all of the other departments and understand what they would need from me. My jump into production management came when I was looking for a summer job. The Public Theater in New York was hiring a seasonal assistant production manager. Normally, I would have felt like I was unqualified at that point of my career, but there was a line in the job posting that stood out to me: “We are actively seeking candidates from underrepresented communities in theatre.” So, I applied and got the job and spent the summer working in New York learning a whole new skill set.

As a stage manager, you’re responsible for everything that happens in the rehearsal room. As a production manager, you’re responsible for everything else that happens outside of the room. I loved seeing how to adapt my skills into a new environment, shifting my Excel skills from prop lists to budgets and calendars. As my summer position ended, the assistant production manager position at Arizona Theatre Company opened up. After three years growing my skills in Arizona, I applied to the Alley Theatre for their associate production manager position, and then within a year moved up to production manager. What are some of the most significant challenges you have faced in your career path?

The biggest challenge is always having to police my own tone. I have been in several rooms where an emotional white man on a tirade screams at and curses out everybody in the room while everyone makes every attempt to placate and soothe his ego. As a Black male, I don’t get that luxury. If I act in a manner without the utmost professionalism, I come off as angry, aggressive or combative. As much as I hate to dance around others’ fragilities, it often becomes a question of, “Is this emotional energy something I am willing to sacrifice in order to get my point across?” We have to navigate these waters differently.

I’ve struggled a lot with learning to find my voice. In theatre, there are lots of big personalities that can take up all of the space in the room if you let them. I’m constantly learning how to take up space when needed, instead of allowing myself to be minimized. It doesn’t help that I also have a speech impediment, so I’m often having to repeat myself two or three times.

One of the most frustrating career experiences happened when I was an assistant stage manager. We were having issues with a transition, and multiple times I suggested a solution. Every time, I was ignored. Later, at a meeting, one of my older, white male colleagues who had heard me mention it before looked directly at me and offered the solution I suggested. Suddenly, it was a great idea. It just had to come out of the mouth of someone they felt was “qualified” to give the answer. What was the best advice that you received along the way?

My favorite piece of advice is the juggling analogy. Particularly when it comes to management, you’re going to constantly be juggling all kinds of balls. At some point, you’re going to drop one. Something is going to fall through the cracks or not get done on time or just needs to be taken off the plate right now. The important thing to learn is which balls are glass, which are plastic and which are rubber. If you have to drop a few plastic balls in order to keep the glass balls in the air, then it’s okay. You may even drop some rubber ones, and they’ll bounce back up on their own or with the help of someone else. Not everything is a glass ball.

Also, go to therapy. Therapy slaps.

What advice do you have specifically for other folks who might be interested in jobs like yours, but who don’t usually see themselves represented in these positions?

Even though you may be a rarity, you are certainly not the only one in the industry. Pre-pandemic, I had only known of one or two other Black production managers and a handful of other production managers who were not cis white men and women. During the pandemic, I ended up on a BIPOC Production Managers Forum call with over 30 PMs of color. It was one of the first times that I realized that I wasn’t alone in this industry.

The other piece of advice I would give is to be the mentor that you always wish you had for other young, BIPOC, recent graduates and early career technicians that you meet. Stay in touch with who is going through your alma mater programs. Help them connect with other people in your network who may be able to provide additional support. Be proactive about building the labor force that you want to see.

Frankie Charles

(he/him)

Technical Director

Brownbody’s Tracing Sacred Steps

Assistant Director of Access and Civic Engagement

Minnesota Opera, Minneapolis, MN

Please describe the work you do in your current position.

I have a few different positions. My full-time work is at Minnesota Opera as the assistant director of access and civic engagement. There, I am responsible for hosting a series of conversations called Creative Disruptions, which is a platform for me to build culturally innovative and professional development-centered content, primarily for Minnesota Opera staff.

I also assist in the production of the Offstage event series that creates engaging conversations and experiences for new and unfamiliar opera-goers, as well as the Opera Insights series, a pre-show lecture accompanying the shows in Minnesota Opera’s season that explores musical and historical highlights or topics.

By training, I am a technical director and advocate for the continued improvement of artistic and production spaces. In addition, I am also a member of USITT, and I serve on their Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, Accessibility & Social Justice (IDEAS) Committee.

As part-time work, I am the technical director for the Brownbody production Tracing Sacred Steps. Brownbody is grounded in African diasporic perspectives and driven by a mission to build artistic experiences that disrupt biased narratives and prompt audiences to engage as active participants in the journey of the performance. This is accomplished through a blend of modern dance, theatre, social justice and figure skating. We most recently went from Minnesota to Martha’s Vineyard to perform in a residency with The Yard. How did you get into your line of work?

By the time I started undergrad, I began to really recognize just how homogenous leadership in theatre and the arts is. This realization, while also in the beginning of my medical transition, put me in a place of wanting to be seen for all my identities, but not knowing how to achieve it. This need wasn’t new for me, since I had already spent my adolescent years growing up in predominantly white spaces. While I am someone who benefits from light skin privilege, the rest of my family does not, which allowed me to see multiple sides of the people around me.

Fast forward through undergrad, I am a trans masculine, multi-racial adult with cispassing privilege. The jump from starting school in a field that is predominantly occupied by white men to ending school having found access to male privilege was ridiculous. I had one short gig where I tried going “stealth” while working at a private school. (Going

“stealth” is the term used when a person who has transitioned does not inform those around them of their gender history, or when a person’s gender history is not widely known.) After that, I promised myself to explicitly inform all my immediate collaborators and supervisors that I was trans, mostly because I was tired of having my identities passively erased by colleagues.

The aftermath of the murder of George Floyd was also a big eye opener for me. I had been doing technical direction-type work for most of my career at that time. I watched as companies, including my own, made their statements, and I consistently wondered how production departments were handling this call to action.

I started asking other technical directors and production managers in my network if they believed there would be a point where I could be a technical director and not have to fight for things that I considered to be fundamentally necessary for me to do the job differently – this included things like no or fewer 10/12s and enforcing boundaries and expectations for collaboration.

I came out of those conversations with an understanding that most of them had asked similar questions, and they hadn’t figured it out yet either. At this time, I was also contemplating going only queer individual on the team, and we all have the beautiful understanding that we cannot create a more human-centered workplace without first centering our humanity in all the ways that we are similarly and uniquely human. We are all committed to this work and understand that there are no shortcuts to these goals. What are some of the most significant challenges you have faced along your career path?

The challenge I consistently face is an antiquated system, complete with expectations, practices and policies designed to keep people like me out of leadership positions. The way I have faced these challenges is learning when to engage and honor my capacity.

What was the best advice that you received along the way?

To cherish the moments when I find myself deep in community. It fortifies the gratitude I have for the people who came before me and it makes space that allows me to continue.

What advice do you have specifically for other folks who might be interested in jobs like yours, but who don’t usually see themselves represented in these positions?

As a human being, you have inherent worth, so apply to whatever job excites you. Don’t expect your career to be linear. Do what you can to work around people who uplift you and remind you how incredible creative collaboration can be.

SARAH THIBOUTOT (she/her)

Head Electrician Summer for the City, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts (seasonal), New York, NY

Stagehand IATSE Local One

Please describe the work you do in your current position.

I manage a seasonal staff of approximately 15 electricians, and I am responsible for the layout, install and maintenance of the light plot and other electrical equipment. From the beginning of the production, which includes the shop prep of the equipment, to working with the other departments and designers to ensure a successful day-to-day operation of live performances, my role requires me to consistently be organized, alert and flexible. When we close our season, I oversee and organize the load-out, which includes removing all the equipment, returning rentals and storing gear Lincoln Center owns. How did you get into your line of work?

I started in high school drama club with scenic design – not so much in an artistic way, but in a “this is what we need to fit on the stage” kinda way. I initially continued with stagecraft and intro to design in college because I needed to take X number of arts and humanities classes to balance my hard science major, but by my sophomore year I realized just how much more interesting theatre was and that working backstage was a real job, and not just something people did in drama club because they didn’t get cast in the play. I switched my focus to lighting design. There were only a few of us in those classes, and we essentially supported each other, taking turns being the head electrician to each other’s lighting designer to get shows up and running.

After college, I toured briefly and landed in NYC, where one of my college friends got me a job programming the light board for a series of short play runs. The lighting designer for those shows introduced me to all her friends in the lighting business, who then hired me to work for them.

For a long time, it was mostly Off-Broadway, and then fashion shows and corporate events. Events were where I started to get ahead, working as an assistant to production electricians, who then got so busy they couldn’t take all the shows offered to them, and they would hand them off to me. One of those events was a small, low-budget, twoweek, outdoor summer music festival that half of my friends had been the head on at some point.

About the time I was thinking it was time to pass that festival on to the next person, I got a call from the production manager, telling me that he was moving on to something different and wouldn’t be hiring me that summer. Shortly thereafter, I got another call, from the new production manager, who wanted to know if I would keep working on the festival, but under new management. I demurred at first, but he convinced me, saying that the festival was being completely redesigned.

That was 2009, and 13 years later I am the production head electrician for what is now a multi-venue, three-month major music festival outdoors at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. What are some of the most significant challenges you have faced in your career path?

There is always the obvious answer of being a woman in a still male-dominated industry. It has definitely gotten easier to be female in this industry in the past 20 years, but it is also somewhat difficult to separate that from my age and experience.

I’ve also always looked younger than my age, so certainly through my 30s I would encounter people who didn’t want to believe that this little girl knew what she was talking about.

I also was given some bad or just outdated advice early in my career to avoid certain venues because of those prejudices, and I think that held me back in some ways. I didn’t get my union card until I was in my 40s, and I wish I had been encouraged to go that route earlier.

What was the best advice that you received along the way?

Know what you’re talking about, and if you aren’t sure, say so and ask for help. Admitting what you don’t know gives people more confidence in what you do know.

Being easygoing and pleasant to be around will get you a first call; being good and confident at your job is what gets you invited back and recommended for future jobs.

What advice do you have specifically for other folks who might be interested in jobs like yours, but who don’t usually see themselves represented in these positions?

Do it anyway. I think some people limit themselves more than others do. Yes, it will be harder for some people than others, but if it’s what you want to do with your life, it will be worth it.

Take all the training available to you, whether that’s a person willing to mentor you, or a union apprentice program, or workshops offered by manufacturers and rental houses.

Talk to people at work, accept invitations to lunches/parties/ casual events with people you’re working with. Most connections are made informally, and I’ve always gotten a lot of work from word of mouth.

Jennifer Goff (she/her) is chair of the Theatre Program at Centre College in Danville, KY. Her acting and directing credits include work with The Distracted Globe, The Warehouse Theatre, and The Pioneer Playhouse. She is a current member and the incoming chair of SETC’s Publications Committee.