By ROBERT TRUSSELL
The Kansas City Star
To be an itinerant is the actor’s lot.
It was true in Shakespeare’s day, when strolling players would travel from town to town and perform in village squares or barns. And in a sense it’s every bit as true today.
One night Rusty Sneary, an actor and the artistic director of the Living Room, took the stage for his customary pre-curtain opening-night remarks and thanked the audience for being there.
But he also thanked the volunteers. Without them, Sneary told the crowd, these shows wouldn’t be possible. The audience that night in June had gathered to see “The Death of Cupid,” director/playwright Kyle Hatley’s exploration of Greek and Roman mythology, and the cast was enormous: More than 30 performers, most of whom had worked professionally in Kansas City. A couple — Vanessa Severo and Katie Gilchrist — were members of Actors Equity Association, the union for actors and stage managers.
Sneary welcomed donations and said the company’s goal was to be on a firm financial footing so that in the future the volunteers could be paid for their services.
Sneary later said in an interview that by “volunteers” he didn’t just mean people to tear tickets and work the bar. He was referring to the actors, none of whom was paid except the two Equity members.
“We’ve been striving from the beginning to be a supportive theater for the artists in this community,” Sneary said. “We’ve been incredibly blessed and inspired by a multitude of amazing artists who have done this just for the love.”
Sneary said the Living Room wanted to be a “bridge theater” to help talented young performers establish themselves.
“Other directors know they can come here and discover new talent,” Sneary said. “It makes us very happy for young artists to show what they can do and go on to be hired by the Rep or the Unicorn or any of the other wonderful theaters around town.”
Actors in Kansas City fall roughly into three categories: Full-fledged members of Actors Equity; non-Equity professionals; and actors who work for nothing either for the love of it or to gain experience. Some performers have feet in more than one camp.
Actors Equity, founded in 1913, sets pay rates and ranks theater companies in terms of seating capacity and box-office revenues, among other factors. According to Equity, membership can happen two ways: An actor can be offered an Equity contract by a theater company, which automatically makes the performer eligible for membership; or actors can participate in the Equity membership candidate program, by which a non-Equity actor can register and eventually become eligible for membership after working 50 weeks at participating theaters.
Equity membership in the Kansas City area includes 183 actors and stage managers and 132 candidates.
Kansas City Repertory Theatre, the city’s leading professional theater, is a C-level company in the League of Resident Theatres, and pays a minimum of $731 a week for actors performing at the Spencer Theatre, less at the Rep’s downtown venue, Copaken Stage, which has fewer seats. In contrast, Metropolitan Ensemble Theatre, which operates with a small-theater contract, pays $322 a week to Equity performers. Some theaters pay less.
Clearly, professional stage actors aren’t getting rich. Starlight Theatre, which sometimes produces its own shows, pays the highest weekly Equity minimums in the area — $922. Even if an actor could work at that salary every week of the year — and none do — he or she would still fall below the national median household income of $51,017.
The New Theatre Restaurant in Overland Park offers one of the best pay rates for actors in the area: About $590 a week for Equity members, more for principal performers and probably much more for guest stars. What makes New Theatre attractive to actors is its long runs. One show can offer as much as months of steady work. Other theaters in Kansas City rarely run a show more than four weeks. Most run three.
Non-Equity professionals are customarily paid less than their union counterparts, although one company — Quality Hill Playhouse — makes a point of paying Equity and non-Equity actors the same rate. Another, Kansas City Actors Theater, pays non-Equity actors better than most other small theaters — about $400 a week.
“That was part of the founders’ commitment, to pay from the get-go a living wage,” said John Rensenhouse, KCAT’s managing director who is a member of Equity.
But often nonunion actors earn less than half what their Equity counterparts are paid. The MET doesn’t pay non-Equity actors a weekly rate but instead pays a stipend of $350 to $1,500 per show, which is determined by the actor’s experience and the size of the role.
Equity proscribes weekly minimums for union actors, although some performers can negotiate a higher rate. But that’s not always feasible at smaller theaters operating on tight budgets.
“We don’t do a lot of negotiating, because we can’t,” said Cynthia Levin, artistic director of the Unicorn Theatre. “If we paid people what they were worth, it would be a different business.”
Money defines the difference between professional and community theater — although the pay can be negligible even for Equity members. An Equity actor performing on “special appearance” contract at a small theater can earn as little as $215 a week.
But some young actors who are not yet union members prefer the freedom to perform in shows for no pay if it’s a show they really want to do.
“I don’t want to be Equity,” said actor Coleman Crenshaw, who has appeared at professional companies, including the MET and the Coterie, but has also performed at community theaters for no compensation.
“I never wanted to be. And I don’t think it’s very good for the business anymore. I think it definitely has a place if you’re in a bigger market. If you’re in New York or L.A. or Chicago, you pretty much have to be Equity just to get into the auditions. In a smaller market like Kansas City, it limits what some theaters can do. And it limits your opportunities.”
In the last year or so Crenshaw played the title role in “Hamlet” for the Alcott Arts Center in Kansas City, Kan., and the lead in “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” for the Barn Players, one of the oldest community theaters in the area. He was paid for neither performance and couldn’t have played those choice roles had he been in the union. Plus, no professional theater in town was likely to produce either title.
“Some of those dream roles … are on my list,” he said. “As I’m getting older I’m going to lose my ability to do those, so it affords me a lot more flexibility to work for free.”
A few actors have chosen to drop their Equity membership.
Bob Paisley, a co-founder of the MET, said after he formed a separate small company, Central Standard Theatre, he found himself in the curious position of hiring himself. When he appeared in “Driving Miss Daisy,” as the producer he had to post a bond covering two weeks of his own salary.
“Since I was only working for MET or myself, it didn’t make a lot of sense for me to stay a member of the union,” he said. “It was costing me money and it wasn’t getting me anywhere.”
Most actors based here, even the most successful, have other sources of income — either through day jobs, gainfully employed spouses or nonstage work acting in commercials, print ads or regionally shot films.
“I’ve found that temp agencies are great,” said Crenshaw, who also teaches and is an assistant property manager for the apartment building where he lives.
Kyle Dyck, a 27-year-old actor currently appearing in (and getting paid) for “The Rainmaker” at the MET, has signed up for shows for which he earned nothing — notably, “Titus Andronicus” and the first version of “Carousel” at the Living Room.
“Because I have a steady day job — I’m a handyman — it frees me up financially to be able to do things like that,” Dyck said. “When I choose to do a show I don’t get paid for, there’s a lot of value artistically for me.
“One of my favorite places to work is the Living Room, and every time I work there it’s extremely fulfilling. It’s always nice to get paid for what you do, but that’s the least of my worries when I work for a place like that.”
Dyck plans to join the union before making the move to New York in a couple of years. Until then, he wants to remain flexible.
Karen Paisley, the MET’s artistic director, said the company has been committed from the beginning to making sure everyone working on a show got paid something.
“There’s a difference between community theater and small professional theater,” she said. “When we started we established a bar, and our bar was that every single person would be compensated, no matter how small your job or how new you were at it, because this is not a hobby.”
And she’s also been able to attract some of the city’s best Equity actors, including Cheryl Weaver, Robert Gibby Brand, Scott Cordes and Katie Gilchrist.
“The Equity actors appreciate coming here because it’s the material and the atmosphere that allows them to do something different,” Paisley said.
One of the advantages of Equity membership is health insurance. But Equity requires actors to work 20 weeks a year before they can use it. If you don’t get your 20 weeks, your contributions have paid for somebody else’s insurance.
There was a time when Missouri Repertory Theatre operated as a true repertory company. Like the Kansas City Ballet, which maintains a company of dancers, the Rep in the ’60s and ’70s hired a group of actors for the length of the season, all of whom performed in most of the shows, which were performed in a complicated rotating schedule. The season usually provided enough Equity weeks for actors to get insurance.
That relative job security is hard for actors to find these days.
Sneary, a member of Equity, said when he performs at the Living Room on a “special appearance” contract, he usually just donates his minimal pay to the fledgling company.
And he appreciates the donated talents of the the nonunion actors as well as the Equity performers who have worked for small compensation at the Living Room.
“As an Equity actor and as a producer, I would love to pay all the actors who have worked for us much more,” he said. “As a producer I’m humbled by what the artists working for us bring. This city is growing, and it’s a wonderful theater city because of that commitment.”