10 things you didn't know about grants for theatre

So, admittedly, this one is pretty specific to my area.  However, I suspect things don't differ all that much.

Grants are a crazy, complicated world.  Sarah Marty and I will go into this more, but here's a quick overview of 10 things you didn't know about getting grants.

1) Your request must be matched dollar for dollar. 

Meaning if you ask for $5,000, you need to have at least $5,000 in additional income from confirmed sources.  Technically you can ask for up to 50% of your project budget, but I've never seen anything get funded with that kind of a request.  The Catch 22 here is that if you keep your request as a small portion of your budget, you are much more likely to get funded.

2) Overwhelmingly, grants do NOT fund operating expenses. 

There are a handful of foundations out there that will fund staff salaries, marketing, day to day operations, etc.  But not many.  Most grants (and all of the government grants available in Madison) are to be used for a specific project, i.e. one show.  Funding for building costs, salaries, institutional marketing, and the billion little things that come up have to be covered by donations or earned income like ticket sales.

3) There is not a lot of money to give out at the government level.  

The maximum request for Dane Arts, which used to be the Cultural Affairs Commission, is $5,250.  You can ask for that much up to twice a year, although you'd better be good and ready to defend why you asked for the maximum amount, and have a lot of other sources of income.

The maximum request for the Madison Arts Commission is $3000, once per year.

The Wisconsin Arts Board's budget is $780,000,  the third lowest in the nation (behind Georgia and Kansas).

So just find a private foundation, right?

4) Private foundations are not well publicized and often by invitation only. 

A slew of private foundations that give money out to arts organizations must be made aware of you before they will extend you an invitation to apply.  This feeds into a vicious cycle of institutional marketing and branding that is best maintained by a development or marketing director, which many companies do not have.  Therefore the foundations do not hear of the smaller companies, and those companies are unable to apply.

If you are eligible to apply, the competition is ridiculous.  Which brings me to:

5) Everyone is after the same money. 

I am of the mindset that grantors should divide their granting criteria into levels according to a theatre's annual budget.  The reason for this is that as it stands, a tiny company just starting out is competing under the same criteria as a large scale, established company with a full time development staff.

I am sure there is some consideration given to the size of the organization, but the fact is everyone fills out the same application and must justify their work in the same way.  New organizations therefore have a very difficult time getting into the system, and organizations that already have a staff because they have more money are able to compete at a stronger level than smaller organizations who have one or two people doing everything.

6) You probably won't get your full request. 

You make a request for a certain amount of funds, but grantors typically want to give everyone SOMETHING, so they spread it out.  In the last round of Dane Arts applications, there were 78 applications.  62 were funded, and only one received their entire request.

When this happens you have to adjust your budget to break even before you can receive your funds.

Oh, that brings me to:

7) You have to present a budget that breaks even. 

At least where the government is concerned.  Admittedly I'm not as sure about private foundations.
But when you're applying for a government grant you cannot show a profit.  At all.  This is complicated.  More details in another post.

8) Grants take a loooooot of work. 

I take issue with the term "unearned income", which is what donations and grants are deemed in the nonprofit sector.  I assure you, you most definitely have to EARN a grant.

Here's a typical list of what you'll need for a grant:

• Clearly articulated narrative detailing what you're doing and why its worthy of government funding. (Typically runs 2-4 pages).  You are usually limited in space and must explain what you're doing, who will be making it happen, who will see it, when everything will happen, where it will happen, and what it is. You must make a case for why your project needs to be funded by taxpayers.  You must also have an evaluation system in place. 
• Most grantors like to see an outreach component as part of the project, such as talkbacks, special free performances, art exhibits, etc.  Often just presenting a show will not put you at the top of the pile. 
• Itemized project budget that breaks even, with detailed notes to explain. 
• 2-5 letters of recommendation from reputable sources. 
• A marketing plan
• Your projected budget for the current fiscal year (not just the project)
• Your final financial statement from the previous fiscal year
• Often, a projected budget for the next fiscal year
• Press clippings and other items that establish your organization and its history. 
• Complete listing of the Board of Directors and staff. 
• Biographies of the staff 
• Work samples like photos, audio and video

It's a lot.  It's earned.  

9) You apply for grants far in advance of when you'll need them

Sometimes more than a year.  AND...

10) You may not get your money until after the project is over. 

Not my favorite thing.  But that's how some places do it. 

Now you have a little bit of background.  Please don't ever tell someone to "just get a grant" to cover their funding.  And next time you see small organizations that have been awarded grants, know that it's an achievement, and far from a given. 

14 things theatre managers are tired of hearing

I keep seeing these lists, and Buzzfeed is not going to make one for us, so here ya go.

I know most people don't mean anything when they say this stuff.  But here's a new way to look at things.


14 things theatre managers are tired of hearing, complete with my thoughts and possible alternative ways to get your point across.

1) What do you mean you don't have enough money? Just get a grant. 

Watch this clip and replace "jobs" with "grant".




2) So what is it you DO exactly?

Everything.  Next question.

Alternative: "There must be a lot that goes into that!" 



3) "Why is the theatre so cold?"
Ghosts.



4) From someone at the same performance, in the same theatre, sitting one row behind #3: "Why is the theatre so hot?"
Satan.



5) People's moment by moment critique of the show when we haven't asked for it.



6) "Your tickets are too expensive."
Well yeah, we have to save up for our monthly vacations to Tahiti.

Seriously though, don't say this to people. This is not retail.  We are not playing the 200% markup game.

Alternative: "Do you need volunteers for anything?" (Typically volunteers are rewarded with comp tickets.) 



7) "Wow, not very many people here." 
Would you like some more salt to rub in my wound?  (Advice: Don't say this.  We know.)

Alternative: "I really liked this.  I will make sure to let people know about it!"



8) You look tired.
I am.

Alternative: "You look gorgeous!" (This is a time when it's okay to lie.) 




9) (Calling two hours before curtain for a nearly sold out show): "What do you mean you don't have the exact seat I want available?"



10) Anything prefaced with "You really should..."

Alternative: "If I can help, please let me know."



11) "You know what you should add/take out?"

Read: "Here are my suggestions for changes to a show someone else wrote that you are contractually bound to do exactly as written."

.

12) "I've never heard of you." 

Read: "You must suck at marketing."

Alternative: "What kind of work do you do? " "Can I get on your mailing list?"  "I'll check it out." "Sounds cool!" "I have a friend who might enjoy that."  "What's your website? I'd like to know more." 


13) "The piano is too loud."


14) "I don't understand why you do so much work for so little money."

We don't either.  But without it we're incomplete.



And the one thing we will NEVER get tired of hearing:

"Thank you for the work you do."

The most loaded question of all

I'm back! Did you miss me? You did.  It's cool. Basically I've been fortunate enough to be working non freaking stop since January, and 2014 basically kicked my ass up until a few weeks ago.  But here I am and oh my do I have a post for you today.

What exactly is a professional theatre?

Four Seasons Theatre Producing Artistic Director Sarah Marty and I will be tag teaming on some posts about this stuff.  We think it's time some misconceptions get cleared up about how this all works.

Sarah and I are very different people.  We are from different backgrounds (She has a background in arts management, technical theatre and music.  Mine is in performance and directing.)  We run our companies differently.  But, we have a few things in common: We are both founders of the organizations we run, we're both doing ONLY musicals, and we run into a lot of the same obstacles.  And we want people to know how this stuff works.

So let's dive into the deep end on the first day, shall we?

This post will probably get a little more emotional than the rest of them, largely because this is a very sensitive subject for me, and one that I have struggled to define in my time in Madison. And I fully admit that my perception has changed.

Ever since starting my theatre, Music Theatre of Madison, I have called the company professional.  I have done this because even when I started and had no clue what I was doing, I found some way to pay each and every artist SOMETHING.  This was because I wanted to use artists who have trained professionally and are committed to this as their life's work.  That, however, turned out to be far more complicated than I realized it would be. (Another post.)

There are, however, people who disagree with me.  And don't you worry.  They have made sure to tell me about it.  Typically the argument is comparison based.  "You're not a professional theatre.  [Insert theatre name]...now that's a real professional company." (Side note-often the companies I'm compared to do NOT in fact pay everybody).

There has always been talk in Madison (and elsewhere) about what constitutes a professional company.  Furthermore, with the advent of social media (not really a thing 8 years ago when MTM started), there is also a lot more visible discussion about artists needing to be paid for their work. See a popular post from the last couple of years.

Anyway, for those who are wondering, let me break this down for you:

AT LAST! 

The traditional, established definition of a professional theatre is one that operates through contracts with Actors' Equity Association, the union of professional actors and stage managers in the United States.  (The designers and director's unions do not come into the "professional" debate nearly as often-that's a post for another time).

Here is a handy list of fact about Actors' Equity Association.

• There are a TON of contracts available through Equity.  A company that wishes to operate as an Equity theatre must establish one under which they operate.  The type and tier of contract a theatre establishes varies based on many many factors, including city, number of rehearsal hours for productions, number of performances, and the size of the venue.  Equity contracts pay anywhere from $11/week (Yes, that's ELEVEN DOLLARS-this is, to be fair, for very specific types of contracts) to the Equity minimum for Broadway and first runs of national tours (the productions that are first to go out after the Broadway show), which is $1807/week.  

• Actors can obtain their Equity card several ways.  They can work a total of 52 weeks in qualifying Equity houses, earning credits through what's called the Equity Membership Candidate program.   They can be a member in good standing with a sister union (such as SAG or AFTRA)  Or they can get cast in a production that gives them to get their card because the theatre operates under one of the Equity contracts discussed above.  Once they join Equity, they pay an initiation fee (currently $1,100), and dues. Once they become a member, they are NOT allowed to perform without an Equity contract.  

• When a theatre establishes itself as Equity, it is required to have a certain number of Equity actors hired for each individual production. The number required depends on the contract. This typically means the company must hire Equity stage managers as well. 

• Salaries are not all there is to a contract.  A theatre must also pay into the actor's pension and health insurance, and, if the actor is from out of town, provide a per diem, travel, and housing. 

Basically Equity provides the protection of a union including assuring that actors are treated fairly, not overworked, and promptly paid. Which is great.

In the last twenty years,for reasons I won't get into, more and more non-Equity theatres have popped up.  Some of these non-Equity theatres pay a weekly salary of a living wage to some or all of their actors.  Some do not.  Others will hire one or two Equity actors on what's called a Guest Artist contract, which allows non-Equity companies to use an Equity actor on a case by case basis. (Music Theatre of Madison and Four Seasons Theatre are examples of companies who have done this at our local level.  We have both paid people on Equity contracts AND have hired non equity performers but paid a living wage and/or a decent weekly stipend with housing and travel provided)

This is where it gets dicey.  For many years Actors' Equity was THE definition of professional. Getting one's Equity card was a rite of passage, and it meant that you were "legit".

The point of a union is to protect its members. And while Actors' Equity does do that, it also, over time, began to market itself as the true definition of quality.

That mentality is still out there. And many of the actors who are members of Equity are extraordinary. But there are also a growing number of companies who pay their artists and sometimes even a staff, and who abide by some union standards, without using the union to do so. Like any industry, theatre is changing.

In fact, many professional actors in the Midwest make the conscious choice not to get their Equity cards, or to wait for awhile, simply because there are more opportunities available through non-Equity companies. 

And let's not forget that actors who don't work constantly (so MOST) , regardless of union status, typically have to spend time waiting tables, pouring coffee, stocking shelves, walking dogs, corralling children, arranging edible fruit and allowing invasive medical procedures to be performed on their bodies. (You think I'm kidding). It's just the nature of the business.

Which brings us back to the term professional.  What constitutes a professional theatre or artist?

Must it be a living wage paid to all who work at the theatre? When I worked as an understudy for the Madison Rep in 2006, I was paid $500 for 2 weeks of rehearsals and three weeks of being on standby to cover both female roles. That boils down to $100/week.  Would you call that a living wage?

Must a person currently be working in order to be considered a professional? I have friends who have been on Broadway one day and then, when the show closes abruptly or flops altogether, were back out waiting tables within a couple of weeks.  So if they're serving you your pasta primavera, they're a professional waiter, but are they still a professional actor?

But this is the one that comes up most often:

Is professional always a higher quality?  If that's the case, how on earth do you define "quality"? There's the problem arts managers run into so often: Unlike figures from income or numbers of people in attendance, Quality cannot be definitively measured.  We can say our work is good (as we should).  We can say we are incredibly proud of it.  There is no way that every audience member is going to agree with us.

In my case I believe the best I can do is take my wealth of experience and the knowledge I've learned from my very respectable education and create work I truly believe in. And really that's all anyone can do. I combine that with the resources I have at my disposal to make sure I pay everyone.  And I have taken very clear steps toward understanding the field better so that I can raise more money and pay more to the people who make the work happen: The artists. I'm working every day, including recently starting to work on my Master's in Arts Administration.

Here's the point: There is no one definition of professional. The truth is there are a handful of theatres in the United States that use ONLY Equity contracts. But they are few and far between. Almost all of the professional theatres in the United States (including prominent Wisconsin companies like American Players' Theater, Milwaukee Rep, Skylight, Milwaukee Chamber, The Fireside, Forward Theater, American Folklore Theater, and others hire both Equity and non-Equity performers for every production.  The ratio varies by company but the fact is they can and will hire both.

I have nothing against Actors' Equity as an organization.  They protect actors! That needs to exist! But the definition of Equity as a measure of quality, or, worse, the tossing around of the term without knowing what it means, needs to stop.

There is so much going on, and so many more arts organizations emerging, that building one's name is incredibly difficult. Branding is tough no matter what, and in an environment where the market is so populated with theatre companies it becomes QUITE tough if you don't have the resources and education to do it effectively. It's not impossible, but roadblocks abound, and any company, regardless of their level of success, will tell you that.

We recently closed our production of BONNIE & CLYDE.  It was our 20th show, and our final sold out night was MTM's 100th performance.  Over half of our income (grants, sponsorships, donations, ticket sales) from that show is going to personnel.  In order to make this possible, I wrote grant proposals, solicited numerous donations, found sponsors, managed all of our marketing initiatives, called in favors, negotiated and bargained, strategized, and planned outreach activities.  Due to not having the money for a full crew, I painted much of the set, designed the costumes and collected the props myself.  Yet I lost many nights of sleep (and a lot of hair actually) worrying that somehow I wouldn't make it. Somehow I would screw this up and people would end up disappointed.  Somehow I wouldn't be able to pay everyone and I'd be a fraud. This happens Every. Single. Year.

Replace the coffee with Diet Coke and this is an eerily accurate picture of me every day for nine years. .
Except no bows.  I don't do bows. 

Oh I also directed the show.


I was fortunate enough to have a fantastic team behind me to make all of this work out...I am NOT saying there was any way I could have done it alone. But on a yearly basis I damn near kill myself, largely because I want everyone to get paid SOMETHING. Not just something.  Something decent. Or even passable.

Why does MTM have so little money? Simple. Grant funding, corporate sponsorships and individual donations are becoming more and more difficult to get. (Sarah and I will both get into this in future posts).   Not to mention the entire artistic mission of MTM is to do "the weird stuff." Plus ,the organization's leader (me) is still learning.  10 years ago arts management as a field would absolutely never have occurred to me.

We've built a niche for ourselves.  But it means we also don't rake in the cash that bigger, more well known musicals do.  And that's okay.  Makes paying people a lot harder, but it's okay.

Until someone uses a public forum to say the company is "far from professional caliber", or, worse yet, 100% ignores the fact that MTM pays.   That's what kills me.  It's happened before. For awhile it subsided. But it happened again recently.

I'm not stupid.  I know the difference between what MTM does and what a larger scale company does. I am reminded daily of my mistakes, and of how difficult I've made this for myself, and of how far I have to go.

But I also know this: In eight years, MTM has paid out hundreds of thousands of dollars to actors, designers, musicians, directors, and others.  May not seem like much in the midst of companies that have annual operating budgets of millions, but that could have given me a nice reserve fund if I'd elected not to pay anybody.

My happy place.   

I damn near kill myself to do it.  So do many other companies across the United States.  So it irks me.  To label MTM's (or anyone's) productions as not very professional without explaining what that means.   If people getting paid to do the work does not constitute professional, then what is the defining factor from an audience point of view? The technical aspects? The performances? The venue? The programs? The orchestra? All of the above? And at what point of quality do we cross that magical line and find ourselves worthy of an audience giving us magic "P" word stamp of approval? 

If you don't believe me, I tell you what:  Give it a shot. Produce one show in an arts climate where there is very little funding, very little direct sponsorship support available, and audiences are spread incredibly thin.  Improve your chances of getting grant money by doing something different, because there is already a company in town doing something similar on a larger scale (you have to stand out from the crowd after all).  Go out and personally solicit the money not only for production expenses but so that each and every artist who is working for you can take home the money you earned off of their work.  Put in your own funds so that people can get paid.  Research, ask, network, spend hours writing grants.

Oh and make it a musical.  With an orchestra.  And rights.  Rights are incredibly expensive.

Then have someone tell you you're not a professional company.  In a city where less than ten out of nearly 100 companies are actually paying their performers.  That's pretty much a punch in the gut.

I guess the point is that it's a hell of a lot harder, and more complicated, than it looks.  I'm trying to come to terms with it, and trying to improve the company every day. I don't have all the answers yet, and I don't pretend that MTM is perfect or that I couldn't be doing more.

But I know this-quality is subjective, and, aside from money being paid,  so is what constitutes "professional."