Deborah Puette in Tommy Smith’s “Ghost Light” at Echo Theater Company
“This is a community art, built only on the goodwill between artists, and there isn’t enough money to bring in lawyers.”
If you ask me, that quote in The Los Angeles Times, from playwright Tommy Smith, is a rather contradictory one. Referring to the playwright’s current dispute with the Echo Theatre Company in Los Angeles, it suggests magnanimity, but then says that’s the chosen path only because legal recourse is too expensive. If it’s about good will, why is it in the press?
In the September 30 article by David Ng, Smith charges the company with, among other things, producing his play Ghost Light without a contract and willfully excluding the author from rehearsals. Performances date back to early August.
If Smith’s account is accurate, the behavior of the company is unconscionable, violating pretty much every tenet of the playwright-producer relationship and amounting to outright theft of creative material. It is exactly the sort of treatment that prompted playwrights to react to the call for submissions by Words Players Theatre, an amateur youth troupe in Minnesota, rising to a level of vehemence that may have undermined some of the completely legitimate arguments. Is this in part a similar scenario, but at a professional level, exactly the sort of behavior that many wanted to be sure Words Players wasn’t instilling in young writers and directors?
Here’s the problem with calling for equally passionate reaction to what’s happened at Echo Theater: the theatre claims it has a signed contract and that the playwright was paid for performances. And while David Ng’s article carries the headline, “Why a playwright is urging L.A. theatergoers to boycott his latest,” the article states that all future performances have been canceled, negating any need for a boycott at least. What we have here is a “he said/they said” situation.
Now it’s important to note that Ng attempted to contact Smith’s agent, which Smith’s website indicates is Jessica Amato at The Gersh Agency in New York. He received no response according to his article, and my own inquiry, via e-mail, 24 hours ago, also yielded no reply. I have written to Smith on Twitter to try to engage with him directly, but have as of yet been unsuccessful (though I should note that I’m writing from London, and an eight-hour time difference might be a factor). Ng also said Echo Theatre didn’t respond when he asked for more information about the contract they say they have.
If indeed Echo Theater proffered a contract that proposed to give Chris Fields, the company’s artistic director “complete authorial control over the production,” then the situation is shameful. If the play was proposed as a workshop and produced without a valid production agreement in place, it’s actionable. I would refer Smith and Amato to the Dramatists Legal Defense Fund, who I believe would vigorously pursue such a claim, including identifying an attorney who might take on the case pro bono. No matter the size of the company, the length of the play or the dollars at stake, the rights of artists to control their work must be defended.
The LA Times report as it stands is unsatisfying, and not quite the basis for a public campaign just yet. Now that it’s out in the open, someone beyond Smith needs to fully open up, whether it’s Echo Theater, by producing an executed copy of the contract in question to prove their claim (although if it includes language about ceding authorial rights the issue won’t stop there), or Smith’s agent, to corroborate the scenario he laid out.
There’s more to this story for sure. But whatever’s happened in Los Angeles, the dispute about Ghost Light can’t be allowed to become a phantom, because there’s too much at stake that’s vital to all playwrights to let it simply disappear, echoing as it evanesces.
PART II, October 6, 2015
At the end of my original post, I had asked the parties involved in the dispute over the production of Ghost Light at Echo Theater to speak up and shed more light on the situation. One responded, one demurred, and one stayed silent.
Jessica Amato of The Gersh Agency, who represents Tommy Smith, had not responded to my e-mail last week, but took my phone call yesterday. She said that in regards to inquiries about Ghost Light at Echo Theater, only the playwright could address questions regarding the play’s production. She confirmed that the e-mail address I had found for Smith, through a mutual acquaintance, was indeed the correct one, and said that if he wished to make any statement or speak with me, a response would be at his discretion.
Smith, however, has not responded to my inquiries, either on Twitter, as I had attempted last week, or via e-mail, despite two attempts yesterday, with more than 24 hours now passed. After sending notices to the Los Angeles press with his charges against Echo Theater’s production of Ghost Light last week, and speaking with the Los Angeles Times for the story that ran on September 30, Smith did not take the opportunity to discuss the issue any further, at least not with me.
I did hear from Chris Fields, the artistic director of Echo Theater, first via e-mail and then in two phone calls, a brief conversation on Sunday and a longer interview yesterday. In between those two calls, Fields sent me a copy of the theatre’s June agreement with Tommy Smith for the production of 12 performances (not described as a workshop) of Ghost Light, as well as a canceled check in payment of an author’s fee for those performances. It was exceedingly brief, amounting to a single paragraph in a three paragraph letter. One other paragraph had been redacted, which Fields explained as pertaining to a separate production of a play by Smith; the payment amount was also redacted on the check, however the agreement’s first paragraph indicated that the subsequent paragraphs were terms for two purposes, only one being Ghost Light. Provided the redacted paragraph was as described by Fields, what I saw appears to corroborate the statement Fields made to David Ng at the Los Angeles Times last week and contradict Smith’s account of Ghost Light being produced without an agreement.
In our conversation, Fields spoke highly of Smith’s work and recounted Echo’s production history with his plays, including the successful August debut of Ghost Light. When asked about the discrepancy between the theatre’s position and Smith’s assertions, Fields indicated that it stemmed from conversations about a new author’s agreement that was being negotiated in early September, in response to Smith’s request for an increased author’s fee. He denied any effort to alter the play or its title without Smith’s consent, or asking for any form of authorial control.
“He asked for more money,” said Fields. “I forgot I’d contracted for 12 performances.” But saying that even once he realized that he was not averse to an increase, Fields prepared a revised agreement that he described as “acknowledging that earlier agreement is void and authorizing additional performances.”
According to Fields, Smith said that the new agreement was not sufficient and that his agent would not accept it, and they agreed that Smith would send revisions. Among other points raised in the Smith draft, Fields said, “He sent agreement with language insisting on meeting with marketing and publicity director. It was moot because marketing already existed and the image we used came from him.” Fields said there was also standard language about authorial approval and consultation, but that in this case the agreement pertained to an existing production, which had already opened and been reviewed, so there was some disagreement regarding reasonable approvals language. There were communications between Fields, Smith and Smith’s agent, but Fields said that conversations over the new agreement lapsed on September 9; the next performance of the play was to be September 26.
Without an updated agreement, the June agreement was still in force, and Echo gave its scheduled performance on September 26. In communications the next day between Fields and Smith, in which Smith expressed his displeasure with the performance going forward the night before, Fields said he ultimately informed Smith that the remaining two scheduled performances would be canceled. It seems that Smith began his efforts to contact the media the next day.
So what can we take from this falling out between a playwright and theatre company that had worked together several times previously?
First, this is an object lesson on the benefit of representation. It appears that the original agreement, which as I noted was quite brief, was executed directly between Smith and the theatre. With an agent or attorney negotiating it, or if it fully followed Dramatists Guild guidelines, Smith would have perhaps had the fee and protections that he apparently sought to address with a revised agreement, negating the need for another contract.
Second, while contracts can be superseded and negated with new agreements, old agreements don’t lapse as a result of negotiation, but only upon execution of the new agreement encompassing those terms. While the situation may not have been ideal for Echo to proceed with more performances after communications broke down in early September, it appears they were within their rights in giving more performances of the existing production.
Third, playing out a dispute in the media is very tricky. While Smith got very high profile press for his charges via the LA Times, and indeed benefited from a headline which even the story didn’t support, a careful reading of the article suggested that the situation was more complex than was portrayed in the piece. Echo Theater might have helped itself in the situation if they had released the canceled check and brief contract immediately to David Ng, to bolster their position. Recalling an edict from the Bill Clinton campaign, repeated charges not challenged become facts.
It’s clear that a previously fruitful relationship between Tommy Smith and the Echo Theater has gone sour in a dispute over the revision of contractual terms. However, in the absence of any statement or explanation from Smith or his agent beyond his initial claim, it seems that the original agreement was still in force and Echo Theater was producing the show under a valid agreement for which payment had been made and accepted months before.
Update, October 7, 9 pm: Reporting further on the dispute between Tommy Smith and the Echo Theater Company, David Ng’s follow-up story included a new statement from Smith:
“After taking the time to consult with legal representation, I am profusely apologizing for and retracting my statements about Echo Theater Company and its project Ghost Light,” he said.
Smith said he consulted with the Dramatists Guild, the New York-based professional association of playwrights, on the matter.
“I thank Echo for allowing me the time to fully understand my situation and consider this difficult admission,” the playwright said. “I am sorry that the public had to be involved at all.”
Howard Sherman is the director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School for Performing Arts.
‘You give us $150 dollars and we’ll review your show.’ It sounds like a bizarro-world version of ‘You give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’
But that is, boiled to its essence, what the Los Angeles theatre website Bitter Lemons has just proposed to the southern California theatre community. Citing the general reduction in theatre reviews both nationally and locally, the site has laid out a plan whereby theatres (or individuals) can pay $150 and be assured of a review of at least 300 words, but one which is wholly independent and will be solely the opinion of the site’s critics, not a pandering paean to whatever show or patron has ponied up the bucks.
While I’m prepared to take Bitter Lemons at their word about protecting the independence of their critics [full disclosure: I know one of their critics, Katie Buenneke, largely from Twitter], the optics of this proposal, as well as many practical elements, seem hugely problematic. The moment money changes hands between a producer (or producing organization) and a media outlet (be it vast or grass-roots), the necessary divide between both parties starts to break down. No matter how strong any “walls” may be, when editorial choices are determined by outside dollars, and when the economic viability of a media outlet may be dependent upon those covered, the opportunities for ethical compromise are rife.
Bitter Lemons became almost compulsory reading for me this year as the site was a central disseminator of information, inquiry and invective during the heated debate over Actors Equity Association’s promulgation of new guidelines for the 99 seat and under plan that had been used in Los Angeles over the past 25 years. In passionate and at times exhaustive detail, Bitter Lemons has been a champion of retaining the 99-seat plan as is, and I fully expect the site to continue to fight for that cause so long as supporters in the Los Angeles AEA community seek to make their case.
That’s why I bring up the optics: here is a theatre site, arguing for the right of union actors to work for notably less than AEA actors elsewhere in the country, that is saying their theatre coverage is dependent on being paid to cover that same community. To be sure, there are some apples to oranges issues in this comparison, but as I say, I’m referring simply to how it looks, not the particulars.
So let’s go to practical issues. “The Bitter Lemons Imperative,” as it’s called, suggests that it’s easy for companies to shoulder the expense. “Most producing companies already have it in their budgets, if they have any budget at all.” While I cannot be definitive, I strongly doubt that’s an accurate statement; I’m unfamiliar with any theatre company that has a budget line for reviews. What they may have, as the policy statement on Bitter Lemons sets out a bit further on, is “thousands of dollars for mailings, postcards, advertising, many companies even pay anywhere from $500 to $2k for a publicist.” But equating marketing with criticism is a comparison with which I suspect few critics would feel comfortable. When a company pays for an ad or a brochure, it explicitly controls the content; when it pays for a publicist, it’s engaging someone to work with the media, but in a manner where there’s no quid pro quo, explicit or implied.
I find myself wondering about where this plan might leave the very newest theatre companies in Los Angeles, which may have budgets so low that the $150 fee to Bitter Lemons is beyond thinly stretched means, and which are already providing (presumably) a pair of complimentary tickets as well, which have their own dollar value. Does this mean that they will go unnoticed by Bitter Lemons? I fear this will only reinforce an economic stratification insofar as the site’s coverage goes, where only companies with sufficient means become worthy of the site’s attention, instead of decisions being made according to editorial choices and interests. If Bitter Lemons learns of an intriguing show that doesn’t write a check, will that show in essence be the proverbial tree falling in an empty lemon grove?
There’s no question that theatre coverage, arts coverage and frankly all manner of paid journalism are under vast pressure right now (take note of an impending newswriters’ strike in Philadelphia or the new round of buyouts at The Denver Post). But those who have set out to offer independent arts coverage have done so by soliciting general support that isn’t tied to an editorial imperative (you pay us, we cover you). Their efforts are more akin to public radio and television campaigns; offhand I think of campaigns by The Arts Fuse in Boston and New York’s The Clyde Fitch Report. Ad sales, already in evidence on Bitter Lemons, are another revenue source; if the site incorporates as a not-for-profit (if it isn’t already), contributions may be further advantaged, particularly with foundations that support new media journalism and the arts, separately or together.
I’ll say again that I’ve found Bitter Lemons invaluable in my education about the 99 seat debate. I am also repeatedly on record as arguing on behalf of paying arts writers and reporters for their work and I applaud new models for sustaining them (and worry about others). But linking coverage to cash on the barrelhead smacks too much of payola, of pay for play, even if it’s out in the open. I think it can only serve to diminish the site’s credibility, and may well, in the long run, result in a diminished Bitter Lemons, which would be a shame. After all, can this model hold up if paying companies start receiving blistering pans, or simply indifference?
As someone who believes deeply in theatre and in theatre journalism, I have to say that if I had to choose where to allocate $150 in the Los Angeles theatre community right now, I’d probably use it to pay an actor before a critic. No bitterness intended or implied.
Update: June 5, 4:45 pm: In writing this post early this morning, I hadn’t yet seen a corollary piece by Colin Mitchell of Bitter Lemons about the early response to the Bitter Lemons Imperative. It reads, in part:
“On the eve of opening night for previews at the 2015 Hollywood Fringe Festival, Bitter Lemons has over 30 exclusive Bitter Lemons Reviews ordered and purchased – that’s right pre-purchased – and those top quality works of theater criticism will be rolling out over the next couple of weeks. . .
We offered a deeply discounted 50% off our regular price of $150 just because we love the Fringe community so much and understand how important it is for them to get quality coverage from a truly experienced, savvy, historian of the ephemeral arts, plus we saw this as the perfect opportunity to introduce the Los Angeles Theater Community to our new business model for theater criticism.”
Is this an arts journalism post or a post about Bitter Lemons’s own business acumen, one that that also essentially functions as a sales tool? The lines seems to be blurring very fast.
Update: June 6, 5:15 pm: In expressing my concerns about the “pay for review” practice at Bitter Lemons, I attempted to address the issue with respect for the site and and shared concern over the dire economic models for arts journalism. Some responded saying it should be given a chance, and time will tell. So now that I’ve seen one of the “paid for” reviews on the site, I want to share with you a bit of what one fringe production has gotten for their $150:
I don’t know about the rest of you people, but if someone pays me to write about them, I suck them off with such vigor that their ejaculate explodes into the back of my skull with such force that I feel like the bells of Notre Dame pounded by Quasimodo on a Keith Moon bender.
So, since I’m only in this for the money, and the bloodthirsty mercenary in me trumps any pretense of integrity and balance, the rest of what follows in this review of Scott Claus’ “Sin: A Pop Opera,” at the iconic Three Clubs bar—a review he or someone else associated with him paid for—will be a bunch of positive, compromised hokum.
Perhaps this is merely showing off in the wake of comments and blog posts about the new policy, or perhaps as Isaac Butler posited in his post “Startling Chutzpah In The 99-Seat Arena,” we’re all just being punked. But regardless of Bitter Lemons’s motivation and intent, I think they’re doing serious damage to their credibility. I would really urge all makers of theatre in Los Angeles to put their money back in their pockets and, if they paid by check, they might want to stop payment now.
Update: June 12, 6:00 pm: The American Theatre Critics Association has issued a statement regarding the Bitter Lemons review policy. It reads:
The American Theatre Critics’ Association, the only national organization of professional theater critics, is concerned with the model started by Bitter Lemons. While it does not guarantee a favorable review or allow theater companies to choose the reviewer, this pay-for-play arrangement creates a clear appearance of a conflict of interest. That appearance, even if spurious, undermines the crucial credibility of not only Bitter Lemons’ critics, but all critics.
Our profession has fought for decades to preserve the image of independence. When our work is put out for sale to those we cover, we are concerned not just for the criticism itself but for the bypassing of editorial judgment in deciding what to cover and what not to cover.
Additionally, Steven Leigh Morris, editor of Stage Raw, another significant Los Angeles theatre site, made the following statement to me regarding his site’s selection of critics in the wake of the Bitter Lemons Imperative:
It is Stage Raw’s policy that any reviewer who has accepted remuneration from a theater as quid pro quo for a review of that theater is ineligible to write reviews for Stage Raw.
Also, last weekend, one of the 11 critics announced as participating in the Bitter Lemons pay for review plan, Travis Michael Holder, posted on Facebook that he would be withdrawing from it immediately. Because of the fluid protocols of quoting from Facebook posts, I have chosen not to cite him directly, but will say that he expressed the feeling that legitimate points had been raised about the Bitter Lemons plan that he had not previously considered. In fact, as I write, only eight critics now have bios listed on the Bitter Lemons Imperative website page, indicating additional defections.
Finally, some have suggested to me that people outside Los Angeles have taken the Bitter Lemons contretemps, and in part my writing about it, as an opportunity to generalize online negatively about the state of L.A. theatre. In chronicling this situation, my only intention was to bring to light an ethically questionable practice in arts coverage, not to cast any aspersions on the committed and diverse Los Angeles theatre community and its work.
Joe Saltzman, a professor of journalism and communications at USC, said that words such as “appalled” and “atrocity” flashed in his mind when he first heard what Bitter Lemons was up to.
Then he checked out the website, saw Mitchell’s explanations, and read some of the reviews.
On further reflection, Saltzman said, “I think it’s not that bad a deal. It’s a fascinating way to try to solve a very difficult problem I thought was unsolvable. They don’t have money to hire critics, so how else do they keep a pool of talented, freelance critics? As long as it’s transparent, as long as the audience isn’t being fooled, I don’t have a problem with it.
An article published this morning by the L.A. Weekly, “A New Scheme To Have Shows Pay $150 For A Review Will Hurt L.A. Theater” is by Steven Leigh Morris, editor of Stage Raw, who does not cite his own site’s policy regarding critics who work under the Bitter Lemons plan. But his summary of the problems with the plan are specific and concise:
Mitchell’s market-based initiative puts this all backwards: It places the primary relationship of the critic with the theater rather than the reader. It entails a contract by which the critic is paid by the theater to write something in public as an ostensibly neutral observer, while the theater is banking that the critic will entice audiences. Meanwhile, the critic becomes the servant of two masters — the theater-as-employer and the readers, who have a rightful expectation of candor. This is why traditional print media have always insisted on a separation between critics and the theaters they review.
Howard Sherman is the director of the Arts Integrity Initiative at The New School for Drama.