Practising humane producing

I think the many ways a producer can be described is a positive reflection of the unique skillset they bring to each project. The job can be everything from creating and managing budgets, pulling together creative teams, managing HR and health & safety procedures, facilitating rehearsals, providing pastoral support, supporting access needs, fundraising, securing and managing partners, running marketing campaigns, booking tours… in smaller scale companies, you’re often a 'one person band'.

With the hugely varied job description, it's interesting that, with the current shifts in the arts sector, there seems to be a shortage of producers. During the pandemic I was alarmed by the instability of the arts, with most of the workforce being freelance. I particularly recognised the precarity experienced by colleagues who are artists, performers, stage management, crew.

Producers were able to continue work due to our skills in fundraising, project management, administration, bookkeeping and the like … but the tasks changed significantly. Working from home, I mostly took on bid writing and access support and, by January 2021, I had replaced the live event/producing work that I had lost. I was aware of a level of security I hadn't previously felt as a freelance arts worker. And I was uncomfortable that my producer skillset was more in demand at this time of live event closure.

Putting people before product

What the pandemic highlighted for me, for the first time, was the level of influence producers have; both creatively and practically. I now take this influence seriously, using the phrase ‘humane producing’ to articulate my aspiration for my practice. I say aspiration because the work is continually evolving. Humane producing is about putting people before product supporting people to do their best work and trusting that this process will lead to more sustainable and accessible working environments.

There are tropes in the arts about “the show must go on”. Since the pandemic I have begun to question whether this meant – and continues to mean – “at any cost”. To get ahead, people have to act a certain way, be a certain way, make sacrifices. If you want it, you have to prove it, to have the drive for it.

That’s the culture we work in, creating a sense of a hero culture; the sense that your art is somehow greater if you have to overcome hardship creating it. And it's damaging because there’s a level of internalised acceptance from artists* working in these circumstances.

Changing the conversation

I refuse to accept that product is worth more than the people making it. I have been burnt out and on a number of occasions have almost left the industry. I had to think seriously about the changes I needed to make to continue working sustainably, and how I can use my influence as a producer to support others to do likewise.

I have been greatly aided by working with leaders in diverse-led, accessible arts companies such as Extraordinary Bodies and Viv Gordon Company. Both allowed this conversation, putting working practices under proper scrutiny during the pandemic, and shifting our mindsets. People must always come before product.

Producers need to think: how can we support people so that they can keep performing, keep writing, keep directing, so that they can try out new things without putting themselves at risk, emotional risk, physical risk. Instead of asking people: "What are your access needs?", instead we should ask: "What do you need to do your best work?", followed by: "How do we make that sustainable?". I'm not interested in creating something that burns so bright and beautiful but burns out the artist.

It shouldn’t be extraordinary to work like this, but currently this way of thinking still challenges the status quo of long hours, low pay and a focus on the bottom line. In my experience, if we invest in people, truly support them in doing their best work, the work is better for it too.

How does it work in practice?

There are practical ways to support a team starting with clear communication and contracting. People deserve to know what they are agreeing to without jargon. We need to talk about access requirements and working practices with everyone, and then to check in with people regularly on how things are going. This takes time and planning.

Being responsive to feedback and making change where possible is part of the loop too. If a team know they are being taken seriously and that better ways of working are actively sought as part of an evolving process, it builds trust. Producers have commented that this is not feasible, but it has served me well. Do I always get it right? Absolutely not. But I am committed to humane practices and evolving with learning from each new project.

As producers, we also need to show ourselves that same compassion; to ask for support as well as provide it. Better supported, we can have more sustainable careers. It felt particularly shameful to be a neurodivergent producer, and admitting my disability made me fear being turned down for jobs.

But masking was exhausting and once I began to ask myself why I was repeatedly burning out, I could seek support for my access needs for the first time in my career too. By moving the discussion from access to sustainability in myself, I felt comfortable expressing what I had been struggling with and I have begun to understand that resourcing myself is key to continuing this work.

Can’t afford to? Can’t afford not to

With Extraordinary Bodies’ recent tour Human, I learnt a huge amount about putting real access into place when creating and touring a show, forced by the pandemic which interrupted our plans. Working with cast who were clinically vulnerable to Covid resulted in developing a hybrid working model.

Some of the team joined rehearsals remotely and one cast member tours with the show as a remote (filmed and projected) presence. Also, two new mothers were in the team, who were supported to tour with their families as were other cast members who tour with PAs.

While this is undoubtedly more expensive, it is important the sector knows it can be done and that it knows the true cost of making work that properly inclusive for the company, and accessible to audiences. If we don’t recognise the value of this work, and invest in it, the sector will not ‘build back better’ as promised in 2020, but instead remain exclusive and ridden with barriers.

I’d like to see the conversation shift from building resilience in individuals, to building sustainability sector wide. The producer’s role is paramount to seeing this change happen – we hold the budgets, we contract the teams, we facilitate the creative process. If we put sustainability, accessibility and inclusion at the heart of our practice, a huge shift will follow.

Kate McStraw is an independent Creative Producer.
www.katemcstraw.com
@katemcstraw