Do It Yourself

Every new playwright hopes that a theatre company will spot their talent and mount their play. Sometimes, however, you need to dig into your own pockets to make an impression. Brian Burns hears about the pros and cons from three playwrights who produced their own work.

James Woolf did an English degree at Nottingham University, a “fairly traditional course that paid very little attention to drama”. He put on a play at university and at the Edinburgh fringe – “which I don’t really count” – and attended a lot of writing workshops, “learning on the job”. In 1995, the Man in the Moon Theatre put on his first proper production, Hitting Home and, later, another of his plays.

In May–June 2006, James produced a double-bill of one-man lunchtime plays, Chicken and Mushroom Pie and Chips, at the King’s Head Theatre, Islington.

“It’s the only time I’ve got involved in the production side of things,” says James. “I felt these were two of my stronger pieces and, originally, two other theatre companies were interested in doing them. For various reasons, however, that didn’t happen. I felt incredibly frustrated.”

Undaunted, James sent them to almost every theatre he could imagine doing them. He had some positive responses but no commitment to produce.

Brian Burns

Instead of succumbing to rejection, James talked to actor Mike Goodenough, who had a good working relationship with the King’s Head Theatre, which read the scripts and offered three weeks of lunchtime slots, Tuesday to Sunday, for £1,500 – significantly cheaper than an evening slot. With payments to Mike and the director, Laura Baggaley, on top, the total cost came to £3,000. Fortunately, James’s brother bankrolled the production, and award-winning composer Edmund Jolliffe provided the music.

“We didn’t get anything like £3,000 back in box office receipts,” says James. “In fact, we were probably down about £1,000. However, through my existing contacts, I got Soho Theatre and lots of other directors and small theatre companies in to see the plays.”

Enter Jenny, stage left

With 15–20 years as a TV and film researcher in New York and Canada, as well as extensive travel in Africa and Asia, behind her, Jenny Steele moved to Cornwall 20 years ago and retrained as a TEFL teacher. Her contact with overseas students, especially as she was part-time welfare officer, opened her eyes to the endless ways in which vulnerable immigrants face exploitation at the hands of gang masters, passport forgers and more.

Appalled but inspired, she entered her first attempt at playwriting, The Migrant Worker, a monologue about a Polish meatpacker, into Hall for Cornwall’s Opening Lines playwriting competition. In the summer of 2005, it was shortlisted, prompting Jenny to develop the piece into Immigration Monologues by adding four more voices – an Indian dentist, a Nigerian butcher, an Afghan singer and a third-generation Bradford jeweller of Ugandan–Asian descent.

Jenny’s daughter, Gwendolen Scolding, then technical manager at the Southwark Playhouse, London, proposed directing it as part of the theatre’s free lunchtime Sunday Sessions. Following a performance to about 50 people, excellent feedback and encouragement from three of the five actors involved, Jenny added a sixth monologue – a Russian bride – and the piece became The Red Channel: Tales of Migration.

Having failed to obtain Arts Council funding (not “financially viable”), and having approached two or three fringe theatres (including the King’s Head), Gwendolen finally struck a deal with the Arcola Theatre, London, for three nights in April 2006 that turned out to be very successful. The Arcola provided the space free and took a high percentage of the box office – about £400 a night, leaving £350 for four actors and four technical staff, a less than princely sum of £31.25 each. “Overall,” says Jenny, “we were about £750 out of pocket.”

The young swinger

Having graduated in English and Theatre from Goldsmith’s University, London, in 1995, Ashmeed Sohoye was keen to see his play Swingers go into production. Disappointingly, it didn’t quite make the Royal Court Young Writers Festival. In 1996, he and a fellow producer – who was also one of the actors – stumped up £3,500 for three weeks at the Latchmere Theatre, Battersea (now Theatre 503): £700 a week for the venue, £200 to the designer, £1,000 plus for other production costs and £20 a week for the actors.

The play got good reviews and the Old Red Lion Theatre, London, decided to produce it. Since then, Ashmeed has picked up TV and film writing credits, and has had nine more plays produced at the Royal Court Youth Theatre, the Haymarket in Leicester, the Half Moon Theatre, Soho Theatre and the Theatre Royal, Stratford East, where he has also been new writing associate, part time, since 2003.

Given the success that flowed directly from producing Swingers, does he advise other playwrights to finance their own work?

“It paid off for me, but after Swingers I never put my hand in my pocket again to get my work put on. I started getting commissions,” says Ashmeed. “The thing is – you don’t want to fund your own work. You feel that if it’s good enough, someone should put it on.”

Feel the benefits

As James, Jenny and their associates were also left out of pocket, do they regret their adventures in production?

“Not at all,” says James. “My brother is incredibly supportive of my work and wasn’t too worried about losing that money. Artistically, I’m very proud of the result. Most people who saw it thought it was exceptionally good, so it’s been very beneficial for my profile as a writer.”

Not long after Chicken and Mushroom Pie and Chips, in July–August 2006, First Draft Theatre company produced James’s black comedy about assisted suicide, Single Fare to Zurich, at the Hen and Chickens Theatre, Islington, the Portobello Theatre and The Bedford in Balham. Meanwhile, Net Curtains Theatre Company produced House on the Promontory, one of four one-act plays about the 1953 floods in Britain, at the Arcola Theatre, Hackney.

James is adamant, though, that producing his work is not what interests him. He thinks it’s a shame that in most fringe productions no one gets paid, but accepts that he’ll write for no fee, if it’s a worthwhile project that will gain him more exposure. He’s equally clear, however, that he won’t do that indefinitely.

For Jenny, the experience was ultimately fulfilling. “One of the African actors got about eight people who don’t normally go to the theatre to come along, and they were really struck by the content. If you make even a few people think about these issues, and the problems people face, then it’s worthwhile.”

Also, Anna Coombs at Hall for Cornwall has subsequently sent The Red Channel to the National Theatre for consideration, and has invited Jenny to tender work for a new project called ‘Responses’. “The idea,” says Jenny, “is to get new writers to produce new works in response to British Renaissance theatre.”

Meanwhile, a representative from Radiodeutschland Kultur, Berlin, who saw Immigration Monologues at the Southwark Playhouse, has expressed an interest in adapting the scripts for German radio. As Jenny waits to hear, she is already developing ideas.

Be professional

Finally, for anyone considering producing their own work, keep the following firmly in mind:

You don’t write a play alone. If the word “networking” bothers you, then get past it. You need to work with industry professionals – actors, directors, musicians and technical staff – who can give you feedback, help your work develop, find rehearsal spaces, theatre spaces and more, and make things happen.

Be certain that the play you have is good enough to merit investing your own and other people’s money, and that it’s not just a vanity production.

Fringe theatres will negotiate. Approach them and work out a deal.

Many professional actors will commit to a production – even when they know there are no fees – if they believe in the play and because they, too, need exposure.

Learn from actors, directors and other theatre professionals about what works for theatre – and what doesn’t. You are not writing a novel or a short story – you are writing for the stage.

Critics don’t always visit fringe venues and almost never go to lunchtime slots. Do your research and use contacts with other theatres and industry professionals to get them to see your work. Just mounting your work and hoping for the best won’t get you exposure.

Contact listings magazines – in London, Time Out is essential – and make sure that people know your work is on.

Keep your eyes open for schemes and competitions aimed at helping new playwrights develop their skills, such as Southwark Playhouse’s Sunday Sessions and Hall for Cornwall’s Opening Lines competition.