"I would do anything for love, but I won't do that"

I remember a time when Sunday was truly a day of rest, not in the biblical sense, but all we had to do was do chores, see family, and listen to the wireless......standard Sunday stuff,a simpler time.  But soon modern life demanded so much of our time that we needed supermarkets to open for a few hours on Sunday because our Saturdays were too full to fit in a weekly shop.  Then it snowballed as shopping centres and most other amenities followed suit, until a Sunday is pretty much like a Saturday in terms of retail.  And now the same is happening in theatre.

When I started as an actress 11 years ago we still kept the theatre hours of yonder year; Monday to Saturday performances, 8 shows a week and Sundays off.  In the last few years Sunday matinees have appeared for these ‘Sunday like Saturday’ busy folk and now the new Equity West End Settlement wants to add an extra performance making Sunday a two show day.

The theatre industry is up in arms. 

I don’t want to join in this new journalistic style of creating an article out of Tweets but here are some opinions from cyber space:-

“Stomp has done two shows on a Sunday for years, and have two days off instead of one #WestEndSettlement”

“REJECT #WestEndSettlement please everyone RT. I love my job but its important to be able to have a work/life balance.”

“No payment for background recordings?! So we are obsolete and having to do/feel so for free. Cheers. #WestEndSettlement”

“@EquityUK members: 2 shows on a Sunday? Performers with school-age children will become absentee parents. REJECT THE #WestEndSettlement”

This new settlement is the result of Equity members fighting the last deal that left West End understudies worse off financially.  They felt it unjustified that understudies rehearsed and performed for no extra fee just because the parts they covered didn’t have a whole song and therefore were deemed not main roles.  This has been rectified in the new deal but with some savage hidden extras in paternity pay, stage management and obligatory press calls.  Yes, understudies in “supporting roles” will be paid and the settlement says that this leaves agents free to negotiate understudy pay.  We all know that this means ‘jack.’  In recent years understudy fees are completely un-negotiable, perhaps because of this deal but mainly because there will be a list of 5 other actors below who will accept that fee/any fee and so you cannot push too hard.  This will not change.

Business, at a fundamental level, is to supply the demand.  This is particularly pertinent when so many industries are vying for income; if the customer (audience member- willing to pay the price of a week in Spain for a family of 4 to watch a West End musical) wants and will attend a Sunday night performance then theatres would be churlish to lose the business.  But with the often dodgy Sunday public transport who would risk keeping the kids up late before school only to be stranded on the District Line?

You can also argue that in these lean times actors are lucky to be in work.  Jobs and auditions are scare so shouldn’t actors do all that is necessary to support the industry and keep themselves in work?   In the words of Meatloaf “I will do anything for love, but I won’t do that,” because although we are lucky to do our hobby for a living it is still our job.  We deal with the same work/life balance issues that normal folk do and despite common folklore we don’t constantly listen to musical theatre on our iPods or lose the need to see our families because we love our show family so much.

I feel that having two shows on a Sunday would mean losing that tiny bit of normalcy that actors like me,crave, and therefore personally find the prospect of a 2-show Sunday terrible.  But if we study current contracts, Sunday shows can always be added, so how relevant is this new clause?  Should we worry more about paternity alterations and obligatory press calls?  Or is working on a Sunday just part of the sacrifices a worker must make for any job, as those in Sainsbury’s have done before us? 

I would wish to preserve the actors’ working week and remind theatre managers that although we feel jolly lucky to do what we love for a living it is exactly that, for a living.  So don’t take the p*ss and make us do it for free, there are amateur theatre companies for that. 

The most important thing to come out these tweets and opinion is the chance to speak out.  We have a union and for all its faults, at the risk of sounding like a crap ad for the local election, if you aren’t an Equity member then how much do you care about your industry?  There’s no point bitching in the dressing room or on the Internet if you are not prepared to say it out loud.  The problem with our union is it is unable to act; we all have views but are often reticent to air them because we feel replaceable and are too frightened to cause a stink.  I am not suggesting we storm the streets of Soho or build a barricade in St Martin’s Lane but take the time to go to an Equity meeting and vote to have your say, whatever it is.

Just because we spend our time reciting other people’s words doesn’t mean there isn’t value in our own.

Read the proposed settlement here https://t.co/n5hDDrHCYT

Check out the Stage Status forum and join the community discussing this . http://stagestatus.co.uk/forums/topic/472/westendsettlement

and if you think it is just the theatre industry read a freelance journalist's account of emails with an editor wanting him to write for free http://natethayer.wordpress.com/2013/03/04/a-day-in-the-life-of-a-freelance-journalist-2013/

If the slipper fits - the responsibility of a casting director

Most people have now seen the Les Mis movie and sadly it is almost unanimous that Russell Crowe was a goddamn awful Javert.  This upset me because I have had the privilege of seeing some incredible West End actors perform Javert with the vocal and physical gravitas required to give this character strength and dimension.  Sadly, to me, Crowe looked out of place and every time director Tom Hooper swooped in for a close up we saw the uncomfortable fear in his eyes, resulting not from the wobbly roof top walking but from the wobbly attempts to act through song.  So in our fickle and judgemental way we all hailed “Crowe was rubbish!” 

But is he rubbish?  Or just entirely miss-cast?  You don’t see Nina Gold or Sir Cameron Mackintosh being lambasted all over the Internet when he was their choice; it is Crowe  who takes the personal flack.

If a casting director cast me as the balletic White Cat in "Cats" just because they liked me as a person or thought my name would sell tickets (it obviously won’t but I’m being hypothetical! OK, delusional but bear with me..!) the Tom Hooper close up would reveal the fear in my eyes and size of my thighs and my complete lack of suitability for the role.  I may have held my own in "The Last Five Years" or "Avenue Q" but anyone who judged me on that hypothetical car crash of a dance performance would write me off as crap. 

But back to Russell - I sat and watched "Cinderella Man" last night and it inspired these musings.  It is a terrific film (watch it if you haven’t seen it) with truly great acting performances from Crowe and Renee Zellweger.  He is energetic, cheeky and wholly embodies the boxer who goes from rags to riches; the close ups reveal the character’s struggle and determination not the actor’s struggle to communicate.  It restored my faith in him as an actor and made me think that the casting team do bear a lot more responsibility than we give them credit for.  Instead of their names scrolling past apologetically in the final credits, perhaps the casting director should come as a preface to the actors’ names in the opening titles.  “I, blah blah blah CDG, chose the following actors for this film, tweet me if you have any issues not the actors who are just working as cast.”

The “Cinderella Man” story had fairytale qualities and Crowe’s performances have a fairytale-like moral.  Prince Charming only married Cinderella because her foot fitted the slipper perfectly; he didn’t make do with an ugly sister because she wedged her toes in and might attract more punters at the ceremony.  Crowe’s performance was spot on in that film because the role suited his capabilities as an actor whereas perhaps the wholly different skill of acting through song is not his forte.  It’s not his fault; Eddie Redmayne probably would have played a rubbish boxer.  Fairy tales are all about fitting perfectly; Goldilocks chooses the porridge that is “just right” not the one “that’ll do.”

So hopefully this might make us more lenient on big name performances and even help us to accept the acting rejections of our own.  If a casting director says we are “just not right for the role” maybe it is a saving grace and could save us lots of backlash if we attempted a role that just doesn’t sit on us correctly.  Much of a final performance is an actor’s responsibility but keep in mind the team who put them there in the first place.

Busy doing nothing, working the whole day through...

I have read two pieces this week about working from home; one from the popular blogger Girl Lost in the City about the stigma attached to working for yourself and another by Anya Kamenetz citing why freelancers are more likely to suffer from depression.  One had the uplifting argument that we have the ability to work and be productive anywhere whilst the other, well if freelance people weren’t depressed already, they were after reading it.  It had me running to the nearest water cooler for co-worker support and a pension scheme.

Now seems the perfect time to mention that I am typing in my pyjamas ensconced in my freelancing day and contemplating a lunch-time run before teaching this evening.

The freelancing stereotype, although substitute coffee for green tea for me!

So what is “freelancing” and why should it contribute to depression?  Trusty old Wikipedia says “A freelancer is somebody who is self-employed and not committed to a particular employer long term.”  You can argue that actors are freelance workers because we offer our services out to companies and remain self-employed whilst completing contracts.  Freelance folk have to hustle for work; writers pitch to editors and actors audition, it is up to the freelancer to generate work for themselves.  The only boss you need to answer to if your bank balance is getting depressed is yourself.  And here lies the juxtaposition of joy and despair.

You can work on countless different projects, challenge yourself and make up your own hours but if there is no work to be found you cannot force an employer to hire you or pay that long overdue invoice.

Kamenetz argues that for all the variety and flexibility linked to freelancing, the financial insecurity and rejections are likely to make someone depressed because job satisfaction is proven to have a strong impact on a person’s mental health. 

I have mentioned before both on here and in my forthcoming article for The Fourthwall Magazine that keeping yourself “up” in-between jobs is vital for an actor; if we sink into a vulnerable self-loathing state then audition panels will pick up on our negative energy, agree that we probably are talentless and not give us work.  But this is easier said than done; when your talents are employed you feel useful, worthy and busy and without that stimulation you need to be Pollyanna to find job satisfaction every day.

 “A workplace should never be defined as where your desktop computer lives; it should be where your commitment does.”

says Girl Lost in the City, we don’t need to be tethered to an office desk to be productive but I suppose the balance is, when reading the piece on depression, the level of commitment.  How do you motivate yourself to pitch for tenth time this morning or go to yet another audition when the train fare could buy you groceries instead. If you have the assignments or auditions you can of course work anywhere with dedication because there is work there to be completed, the problem lies when the ‘work well’ has run dry.  It can happen to the most talented freelancer without rhyme or reason; if you are prone to “down days” how do you keep the motivated, committed and believing when you’d rather pull the curtains and watch Homes Under the Hammer?

 

Pollyanna - let's play the glad game!

I am no Pollyanna despite how perky or practical I may come across as on here, the fact is that motivating yourself is easier on some days than on others.  I make myself do something work related every day; research online, blogging, applying for jobs or just reading tweets that make me feel linked to my beloved industry.  Without getting too “doctor-y” on you, exercise is vital not only to keep to my stated weight on my spotlight page (gulp!) but also to release endorphins.  When I went through a small “black dog” phase a few years ago my doctor recommended exercise, vitamin B and bananas, going for a run or to the gym also gives you a reason to get out the house and a focus for your day. We all have down days but depression is a serious medical issue and we mustn’t confuse the two.  Actors are notoriously needy and insecure, we have entered a profession where we literally are applauded if we do well so it’s no wonder we deflate if it is no longer there.

from www.weheartit.com
 I dare you to be awesome today!

I can’t disregard Kamenetz’s research or medical studies and state “No, freelancers are quite jolly thank you very much, we may have irregular income but we deal with it and enjoy our freedom to spread our creative wings, so keep your Prozac,” because depression can affect anyone, from an actor to a Lawyer.  But I do agree that the working world is evolving in every industry and perhaps we all need a bit of help to stay motivated.  More people are becoming self-employed, working from home and being expected to answer emails 24 hours a day; the boundaries of an average working week are shifting.  More actors are entering an industry where people cling to contracts like Ken Barlow to the cobbles and are having to create their own alternative opportunities to stay afloat.  Things may sometimes be a challenge but stick on your favourite song, wiggle your bum and dance about and try not to let them get you down; and that applies to everyone, freelancers or not!

A final thought that made me smile! from www.funnyjunk.com

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s 2pm and I need to get out of my pyjamas!

Take a look at the pieces that inspired this post

Girl Lost In The City - http://girllostinthecity.com/2013/02/27/a-workplace-should-never-be-defined-as-where-your-desktop-computer-lives-it-should-be-where-your-commitment-does/

The Fast Company - http://www.fastcompany.com/3006208/why-freelancers-are-so-depressed



 

And the moral of the story is.....

We are taught from a young age to “Be Prepared;” whether as a woggle-wearing Scout or in a PSHE class when you are handed a banana and a Durex and told to do your best.  If you are prepared for any eventuality then you will never be fazed.

Well I was well and truly caught on the back foot earlier this week because I admit I've been resting on my laurels a bit lately.  I haven’t given my ‘actress-self’ an airing for a while; with moving house, nesting with my man and teaching in-between, the bright lights of London have become a bit blurry now that I am an extra 30 miles and a £28 train fare away.  In this slothful state I have been hypocritically teaching my students that they must practise everyday to improve (Hello Kettle, you’re black!) yet I have not been keeping on top of things.

On Tuesday I’d planned a trip to Kent to see a friend in a play and was thoroughly enjoying myself when I went to turn off my phone before we went into the theatre and saw missed calls from my agents!  Now the last time that happened was for that ill-fated physical theatre audition (see previous blog) and so I was naturally apprehensive plus the fact that it was 7pm.

Words swam through my voicemail saying that I had a last minute casting for a highly reputable regional theatre, a place that I had been begging to get a meeting with for yonks.  “Hooray!” I thought only to go weak at the knees when they added could I read the whole script, learn the French song attached (in French) and take my own French song all for 12 noon the next day.  French songs?  Tomorrow?

16 hours until the casting - 17% battery left on my phone, no 3G and 94 miles from home with a Samuel Beckett play to watch.  I glazed over and found my seat in the auditorium; Beckett’s words mingled with my brain’s desperate attempts to remember if I ever sang anything to my GCSE French oral examiner?

13 and a half hours until the casting – a round of applause and a hasty exit found me back on the M25 and in a ‘petit meltdown!”  Could I sing a song from Les Miserables?  It’s written by Frenchmen and set in France so I could cobble together a version of On My Own with an accent, what would it be...”Toutes Seule”?  Non! This is a play you “musical theatre, keep dining out on the fact you were in Les Mis once,” fool!

‘Frere Jacques’ was thrown into the equation, but I came unstuck after ‘Dormez vous’ and belted out ‘soggy semolina soggy semolina!’  The only other option was the French classroom classic “Quel est la date de ton anniversaire?” my best friend and I do a brilliant version where we rap all of the months of the year but was it right for 1940s France and did it show off my vocal range?  This wasn’t going to work, so far, Daniella Gibb – Nil Pois.

12 and a half hours until casting – finally back at home I proceeded to print out the 85 page script and battle my heavy eyelids to read to the end.

3 hours until the casting – I had wasted precious hours sleeping although my baggy eyes suggested otherwise.  My poor boyfriend got an early morning alarm in the form of my vocal warm-up to blast him awake as I paced up and down warbling in French and muttering at how talentless I was.

2 and a half hours to go - I thought I could maybe make-up for the lack of preparation time if I could blind the casting director with my lookey-likey ability.  You know how I love any excuse to dress like the part; so I donned by most nun-like black dress, crucifix and 1940s hairdo.

1 hour until the casting – sipping honey and lemon on the train I tried one last attempt to learn the French songs; I may have had “No regrets,” but I think the commuter next to me definitely regretted his choice to sit next to the mad, singing lady for 53 minutes!

As with all auditions, I was in and out within 15 minutes and stood shell-shocked outside wondering what on earth had just happened in the last 12 hours.  During my huge adrenalin come-down I reflected on the moral of this tale.  I had fallen into the trap of the “resting actor” and forgotten that I have to be ready at any moment to become the actor-me again. 

As an actor you may have 3 castings a week or nothing for months but you mustn’t forget your “raison d’etre” (gosh I just can’t stop the French now can I?!) whilst you fill the in-between time.  It is easier, and sometimes a way of protecting yourself, to get lost in your bar-work, teaching or other pursuits and put your acting on the back-burner.  But if performing is the thing that makes you truly alive then you can’t let those skills drift away.  When I was studying for my fitness qualification I learnt that it takes only 2 weeks of no exercise for the benefits of all your months of training to disappear and just because I did 3 years of drama training 11 years ago doesn’t mean that my singing and dancing skills will still be at their peak.  Performance skills, like everything from Marathon training to your mental capacity for crosswords, are muscles that need to be worked.

We actors love an impro game!

I hope that the tale of my stressful audition will prove to be a modern day fable for performers. I am not so blinded by the light of revelation that I am off to ballet class but I may go sew a Scout badge onto to my jumper to remind myself to always “Be Prepared!”

Actors as a Breed - come in for your close-up!

I am currently reading The Diaries of a Fleet Street Fox, a fascinating insight into the world of a tabloid journalist.  Many of the pages are spent dissecting and discussing their breed; qualities, stereotypes and surroundings of a “journo” are shown to the reader who has probably never stepped foot onto Fleet Street and you feel as if you begin to understand them. 

What would he find if he peered into our world?

As I turned each page I began to wonder whether we actors are a unique breed with hidden depths and stereotypes to be studied.  What would national treasure Sir David Attenborough make of our sort if the BBC commissioned a six-part series?

Where better to study “the Actor” than in their natural habitat – the audition room.  The first surprise to the viewer; there are no glamorous green rooms as seen on The Jonathan Ross Show full of booze and smiling celebs nor a colourful couch and free mug a la Loose Women.  You are more likely to spot the actor in a church hall with a ‘soundscape’ of dripping taps and the distant whirl of a fan heater.

Here, you would find many specimens of auditionee huddled around battling for warmth dressed in “funky summer” attire for a Mamma Mia! casting despite it being bitterly cold February outside.  What is interesting about this gathering is that they won’t strive for the good of the herd but for the individual, despite the squawks to the contrary of “Hiya babes” and “You look amazing!”  Don’t let the song of the actor fool you; like a pack of hungry wolves surrounding a coyote they will fight for a job until the death.

The graduate - wide-eyed with fabulous legs!

There are many breeds of performer under the classification of “Actor” and if you are patient any number of them will enter the audition room.  First comes the “graduate”; this type of actor has not quite reached maturity and is often visiting the watering hole from a far off land known as drama school.  The “graduate” bears no resemblance to Dustin Hoffman but may have similar characteristics such as wide-eyed optimism and a tendency to use the methods of Stanislavski.  They are often the first to appear because they are keen to give a good impression and have yet to learn that sitting around makes your nerves worse thus increasing visits to the toilet.

Next to appear is the “unashamed” actor; you will recognise them from the siren of sound that precedes their entrance from the stairwell.  The trill-ing, coo-ing and la-la-la-ing of the “unashamed” varies in pitch and is often accompanied by lunging against a wall or lying in semi-supine.  The “unashamed” has clearly forgotten to warm up in the shower or perhaps enjoys this vocal display as some kind of passive aggressive war-cry; rather like a peacock displaying its feather or Roebuck flashing it’s antlers.  This type of actor is to be ignored at all costs and mustn’t put you off your stride.

Shut uuuuuuup!

Another noisy type is the “conversation starter” – David Attenborough has yet to verify whether this chatter is another passive aggressive attempt to distract fellow auditionees or a genuine desire to talk because they have no friends.  A “conversation starter” will attempt contact in a number of ways; the most common being “Aren’t the tubes a nightmare this morning?” and “What song are you singing?” Do engage in chatter but don’t be surprised if your name is suddenly called and you have been too pre-occupied to get your folder out or swig water.  You have been warned!

Oh my God Oh my God you guys!

The clique nicknamed “Babes” can be frightening as they often have gorgeous plumage and come as a group.  They all seem to know each other from previous acting jobs and will fill the room with a cacophony of gossip and in-jokes.  But do not be intimidated for they only call each other “Babes” because they can’t for the life of them remember what each-other’s names really are and are only friends in the Facebook sense.

In the quieter corners of an audition room you will find the “old-timer” and the “bouncer.”  “Old-timer” has done all this before and will arrive with just enough time to take off their coats, pop in a Vocalzone and head straight in.  No stress or drama will accompany this type of actor as they are probably too busy planning childcare or getting back for their matinee.  “Old-timer” will probably end up getting the job because they are well-known and respected by those scary folk on the other side of the doors.  The “bouncer” is the guard for those doors, the stage-manager ticking folk in and out “if you’re not on the list, you’re not getting in.”  They are often found consoling a wailing actor who tries to make a run for the doors begging for a second chance.  You should always be nice to the “bouncer” but never ask them a question as they have been drilled by the scary folk through the doors to lie.  They read out lists of names for recalls and will always preface this with “Now this isn’t a no, we may want to see you at a later date,” THIS IS A LIE!  Don’t believe them and leave for the nearest wine bar with your head held high.

You may think that a trip to an audition room is not adventurous enough for Attenborough’s cameramen who are used to tracking mating Rhinos or territorial bull giraffes, but have you ever approached a premenstrual dancer who hasn’t eaten for 2 days in order to fit into her Chicago style uni-tard? 

This kind of TV analysis may seem an absurd analogy but think back to the countless Saturday nights we have spent watching footage of this breed as they queue up for X-Factor/The Voice/Find me a Jesus, pace waiting-rooms and warble to camera.  Attenborough’s animals are filmed unwittingly in their habitat but actors sign disclaimers and shout out in harmony “Come and judge me warts and all!”  Which is the more immoral?

Actors are certainly an interesting breed but it takes all sorts to make this globe of ours go round so I am quite pleased to be one of them, whatever my classification!

Ladies and Gentlemen please take your seats for the second act.....

I have a new affection for Ben Affleck.  An "Afflection" if you will!

The BAFTA’s on Sunday had some well-crafted speeches by mask winners; notably from Tessa Ross of Film 4 and Daniel Day Lewis who self-deprecatingly referred to his Stanislavski methods of “staying in character as myself for 55 years” and having small BAFTA sets around his home should he ever win this award.  Others went down less well, Anne Hathaway citing her laryngitis as the only reason why she didn’t sing her acceptance speech; thank goodness, please leave the through-singing on set, love!  But the speech that struck a chord with me was actor/producer/director Ben Affleck on winning Best Director for 'Argo.'

“This has been a second act for me and you’ve given me that, the industry has given me that and I want to thank you and I’m so grateful and proud and I dedicate this to anyone else out there trying to get their second act.”

Well, thank you Ben, because I feel like that dedication was sent straight out of my TV last night to inspire me to send off yet another writing job application this morning.  Second Act soon became a #hashtag# all over Twitter and I love this theatrical turn of phrase to explain trying to reinvent ourselves.  A “second act” in life seems like the acting version of Darwin’s theories as we evolve to cope in our habitat.

He interestingly called it a “second act” not a “second chance.”  This implies person developing through choice not having to change as a result of failure.  Mr Affleck has obviously succeeded very well in his first act as an actor and continues to do so, but he clearly felt that he had more to give and wanted to challenge himself. 

There are very few people in the world who remain in their first acts forever; because people change and develop throughout their lives it would be quite dull and even stifling if we stayed as we were in the same routine with the same challenges.  I watched a television programmes years ago where they interviewed an elderly Chinese man who was a fisherman.  He spoke eloquently about his craft but when he was asked if he had followed into a family business he shook his head and said he had previously been an architect and that everyone should have at least one job change in their lives.  I must have been hankering for a career change myself even back then if I can still remember that fisherman so clearly.

“Life is like a stage, and all the men and women merely players”

If Shakespeare was right and our lives truly do reflect art then the universal structure of a play resonates with Ben Affleck’s chosen phrase. 

Act 1- the set-up

Act 2 - the confrontation

 Act 3 - the resolution

Why would you want to stay as a fledgling in your set-up or rush to your resolution?  Your second act is meant to be a challenge where you turn things on their head and take risks.  It is the meaty part of the play that will ultimately affect the resolution.  I’m sure the actor, Ben Affleck, in Act 1 didn’t dream that he would stack up directing awards and perhaps be remembered for these accolades in his resolution instead of acting.  My dream resolution of retiring in an Italian vineyard whilst writing memoirs like an English Nora Ephron won’t come into being if I stay as a jobbing actress who will only be able to retire on a bottle of Blossom Hill in my sister’s annexe!

Reinventing yourself and changing careers has almost become trendy.  Think of all of the city folk you read about in magazines who wake up one day and realise they cannot stand the rat-race anymore and retrain as a yoga teacher.  They look all calm and smiley in the pictures not grey and harassed on a commuter train!  Footballers become coaches or pundits, mothers start their own businesses and actors become agents or teachers; people are constantly developing and evolving.

 

So well done Ben Affleck; I applaud you and 'Argo’s BAFTA success, I applaud that fact that we don’t see you in gossip mags everyday and most of all, I applaud you for inspiring folk like me who are trying to get to their second act.

(This post was originally written for The Huffington Post)

Going For Broke - the price I am having to pay

I have previously eulogised about the brilliance of fringe theatre in London at the moment; the exciting new work and re-staging of old classics are coming thick and fast with exceptional productions and casts to match.  Unless you are in Book of Morman, fringe theatre is the place to be.  But I have realised that doing too many fringe productions brings a whole new meaning to the phrase “suffering for your art.”

Sometimes the allure of the spotlight is too great for the ego of an actress

I have recently had to turn down two opportunities to play lead roles with a wonderful director. “Have you lost your mind?”  I hear you cry.  Aren’t lead roles in musicals what you bang on about all the time? I know!  And I didn’t even have to appear on a reality TV show or understudy for 5 years to be bumped up, this wonderful director asked me.  But no, I haven’t lost my mind, in fact my mind is what made me decline because, despite being in London, these were fringe productions that couldn’t offer me any wage.

Naturally my heart wanted to accept in, well, a heartbeat!  Who cares if I wasn’t going to be paid for 8 weeks, I could make this work.  I’d cycle to rehearsals (only 40 miles now I’ve moved house, it would be bracing in February at 6am.) I could count out the pennies at the bottom of all of my handbags, they must equate to at least two M&S Food salads and anyway eating is over-rated.  As for 2 months rent, surely my landlord would be so thrilled that a good review may get me one step nearer to stardom that he wouldn’t mind waiting for my first pay check from Downton Abbey?  (Because that is the obvious step in my career after I invite Julian Fellowes to watch me in this lead role, keep up!)

damn my low-GI breakfast!

But then my head took over; this is ridiculous, I am 31 years old and finally recognising that my parents weren’t lying when they said that “Money doesn’t grow on trees.”  My head reminded me that my inner actress may yearn to fulfil her potential but she also needs to pay council tax and continues to eat out-of-season blueberries on her Special K. 

I think we all equate money to freedom; the means to better our lives, sticking it to “the man” and having no worries.  Money would give me the freedom to not have to be 3^rd understudy “featured ensemble” in a budget-busting musical and to play roles that could challenge me and befit my twelve years experience.  Fringe theatre feeds a performer’s soul but how do you feed yourself when no pennies are coming in?

Obviously getting a great advertising campaign or TV role can help because you can then afford to give yourself a few weeks grace.  And when you are a younger performer you find a way of making it work; you have the energy to leaflet all day, do a fringe show at night and then work behind a bar until 3am.  But at my age, I have found that my priorities have shifted and this feels new and very unnerving as my head and heart do battle.

It may seem ridiculous that I harp on about being past it at 31 years old when it’s a tiny dent in what I hope to be my lifetime, but in this profession I am one step away from a telegram from The Queen.  There is a big black hole in musical theatre land where many an actress in her early 30’s has been sucked into; some are spat out at 45 ready for a new career in character roles, others you never hear from again.  By turning down these potentially great opportunities I am trying to make sure that my black hole isn’t filled with red bills and bailiffs!  I would much prefer marriage, babies and freelance writing in there, oh, but here goes my money-avoiding heart again.  Why can’t I wish my black hole holds a Masters in Computer Program Design!

Surely life would be better if we all dressed like this?!

I spent two years of my working life singing “Money, Money, Money, must be funny, in a rich man’s world” (head, arm, arm.  Ah muscle memory! )  Yes ABBA, it must be hilarious in that bank note-clad world where you can pick and choose your dreams.  But as I’ve matured from that 21 year old girl who was having the time of her life, I have realised that although the world can be ABBA-tastic at times, we cannot always wear lycra suits and platform boots.  Tax bills will loom, HMV will close and my  January bank balance will resemble Zimbabwe’s so I have to start picking and choosing when I can let my inner actress free.

I will always make time for fringe theatre but the time will have to suit me.  As my hairdresser says “You can always cut in a fringe, it’s just got to suit your face.”