The actor-centric nature of theatre’s public face
Imogen Usherwood
Here’s a game for you: name as many famous stage actors as you can. Now do the same with directors, composers, producers, and playwrights. Then do it again, this time with famous technical directors, stagehands, costumers, conductors, pit musicians, and makeup artists. Unless you work in the industry professionally or are just really, really invested in theatre trivia, you can probably name an almost endless stream of stage actors, a fair few directors and writers, and few (if any) musicians, designers, or backstage crew members. Or at least, that’s what I managed.
Hopefully, that exercise goes some way to prove that, on the whole, theatre publicity is dominated by its onstage performers. The biggest – and most recognizable – names, voices, and faces in the theatre industry are, generally, those seen on the posters and heard in the cast recordings. A more dedicated theatre fan might be able to list their favorite directors or set designers, or a really big-name director might dominate a show’s publicity drive, but the average casual audience member is more likely to recall the actors they’ve watched on stage.
This isn’t to say that actors don’t deserve the attention they receive, of course, they do – and after all, raising the profile of talents offstage shouldn’t undermine the status of those on it. As anyone who has ever been part of a production will tell you, the directors, producers, technicians, designers, and countless other roles are just as crucial to the final product as the performers. Each individual is a vital component in the complex structures and systems that bring a production together. So why are the actors at the forefront?
Of course, the short answer is that it’s a natural consequence of how the performing arts work. That is to say, actors are the center of attention in publicity because they are also the center of attention onstage – they are literally in the spotlight. It’s much easier to talk about ‘the actress with the glasses who sang that song’ than ‘the director who arranged that phenomenal scene change in act 2’. When we talk about our favorite productions of Hamlet, we tend to refer to them as ‘the David Tennant version’ and ‘the Andrew Scott one’, not ‘Gregory Doran’s production’ or ‘Robert Icke’s Hamlet’, despite both being reputable directors.
In an industry promoted by production photos and cast recordings, actors’ names, faces, and voices make for more convenient markers. This is even perpetuated in posters, merchandise, fan art, or other products inspired by productions – they are all overwhelmingly visual, and so iconic images like Idina Menzel as Elphaba or Daveed Diggs as Lafayette enter the public consciousness. The names and faces of Joe Dulude II, who designed Elphaba’s iconic green makeup, or Paul Tazewell, who costumed Hamilton, do not reach the same dizzy heights among the general theatregoing public.
So, it’s not hard to understand why actors form the public face of professional theatre; while every member of a production is crucial to its success, they also all have different roles, and for the actors that role is to occupy the attention of the audience for hours at a time. The entire point of everyone else (live bands on stage excepted), is usually that the audience doesn’t notice them at all. If a stagehand could be seen in the back of a production photo, they would not have done their job properly.
Yet, invisibility during the suspended disbelief of a performance should not equate to anonymity. At the end of a show, it’s a fairly established tradition that the cast members bow in small groups, with the lead actors usually getting their own moments, before a collective bow in the end, followed by brief gestures to the rest of the team, whether that’s the orchestra pit below, the crew backstage or the technicians above. We don’t see their faces or names unless we take a look at our programs, and we never see them in person. I’m not suggesting that the entire backstage and creative team should come on for a bow at the end too – indeed, many probably wouldn’t want to – but it’s an interesting thought.
Regardless, the whole dialogue around theatre seems to be made for actors first and foremost. Most of those ‘relatable’ theatre memes about ‘when the stage manager announces the five-minute call till places’ or ‘when you get a cough during tech week’ are only ‘relatable’ to performers. I can personally say I’ve never seen a meme about being a director – indeed, they’re usually about how mean or unreasonable directors are. That might seem like small fry (and ok, maybe it is), but it feels like part of a broader culture where the true ‘theatre kids’ are the actors. That felt frustrating, as someone who spent a childhood trying to act before getting to university and realizing I was much better at writing and directing.
I assumed the only way to get into the arts would be as a performer because any awareness of production team roles had eluded me. Like most, my school’s drama department only offered students the chance to act, play music, and occasionally tech – I didn’t know it at the time, but I would have loved to shadow my teacher as an assistant director.
All of this is the inevitable consequence of the clear differences between ‘onstage’ and ‘backstage’. It’s much easier to generate a culture of celebrity around the voices and faces under the spotlight than the names attributed under ‘creative team’.
Acting is one very specific role within the theatre industry, and it’s a hugely difficult and vital one - but a bit more appreciation for those off the stage wouldn’t go amiss.