What constitutes a pro?

Director and cast of "Othello," Deep Dish Theater, 2011, Chapel Hill

One of the questions that comes up over and over in my work--supporting both theater and other arts genres--is the idea of the "professional." What is professional theater, or a professional writer, or painter, or poet, or dancer, or improviser? 

Much like the term "success," we've conflated "professional" with "earning money." If you have earned a lot of money from your art, you are a "professional" "success." 

Odd, in that we also equate the term "selling out" with "earning money" and that has a bad connotation. 

I think, though, Steven Pressfield's idea of "Professional" is closer to the truth, and why so much of the Triangle theater scene is so damn good, is actually professional quality. 

Pressfield talks about the Professional Mindset being one of doing the best work you're capable of at all times, and not putting emphasis on how others react to what is currently your best work. He couples that with the idea of always learning and growing at your craft, be that through practice, teachers/mentors, or producing new work. It may make money, it may find a giant audience, or it may not. But you, the artist, know if you've done the best/truest work you're capable of... or if you've sold out. 

Hence the dilemma when trying to parse between "community" or "amateur" or "pro-am" or "professional" or "commercial" or "trained" or whatever when discussing our theaters. There is great work happening at every level of pay in these organizations. Money does not necessarily equate with a better, more professional show. 

And I think, too, this is why there is a constant tension about the death of theater: the more money it takes to produce a show, the more money needs to be in the coffer, either through donations or through ticket sales (or ideally both in my nonprofit world). Another solution, although one no one likes to talk about, is maybe do less costly shows. My friend Scott is riffing on this idea over on his new blog. I wrote about this in my book, Courting the Community, too. 

I have talked with many people over the years--critics and donors and season ticket holders and performers and directors--who repeatedly say, "I've seen theater in [insert well-known theater community here] and the work done in the Triangle is at just as high a caliber, if not higher." Is caliber different from professionalism? Is the caliber of work done for a stipend different than that done by a quote-unquote professional who is earning a living wage (not likely even in those major theater centers)? Is a kind, soft-spoken, theater-trained director less professional than one who studied at Yale but creates a nerve-racking schedule and induces a traumatic rehearsal process? Is an artist who produces their art around their day job less professional than the artist who has commercial success with their art and doesn't need a day job? 

In a healthy artistic ecosystem, you can find every kind of quality of art. You can find students of any age just starting to learn their craft and their work reflects the beginners mind. You can find people who have been working and studying and practicing and the quality increases. And you can find masters, those who have worked and been blessed by their Muse and, best case scenario, are now sharing their wisdom with the next generation. Commercial theater needs Regional Theater which needs Independent Theater which needs Community Theater which needs University Theater which needs Youth Theater (rinse and repeat). 

If you see a lot of theater, inevitably, you will see work you expect to be of great caliber that isn't and you will be surprised by a show you thought wouldn't be good but was. One of my all-time favorite shows was high school kids playing the high school kids in Dog Sees God. I wept at that show. All in high school. Not a one of them paid. All of them doing their best work at the time. 

Pressfield, in his book Turning Pro, writes: 

A Professional Is Courageous.

The Professional displays courage, not only in the roles she embraces (which invariably scare the hell out of her) or the sacrifices she makes (of time, love, family) or even in the enduring of criticism, blame, envy, and lack of understanding, but above all in the confronting of her own doubts and demons.

I applaud the many professionals making theater or creating their art, being courageous, doing their best. Regardless of credentials or income. Keep it up.