Andrew McKinnon* offers his views on the debate about the terms "amateur" and "professional" in theatre I am a Scottish theatre-maker and writer. I have spent a lot of time in Egypt since 2003; and ever since the summer of 2002, when I first met her, I have read every article Nehad Selaiha has written in Al-Ahram Weekly. I have also read all her published collections of criticism. I admire her tremendously and count it an honour to have gained her friendship. But I have never felt that I wanted to make a formal response to anything she has written -- until now. I do so now because I think the issues she raises in her recent article "The 'wheel' rolls on" ( Al-Ahram Weekly, 24-30 August 2006) are of fundamental importance to everyone who cares about the role of the artist in society -- and are crucially relevant to theatre not just in Egypt and the "Middle East" but also in much of the modern world. So I want to offer some observations from my different but related perspective. In her article Nehad "ponder[ed] the difference between amateur and independent groups" at the recent El-Saqia Festival in Zamalek, thus making a contribution to an ongoing worldwide debate about the deployment of words like "amateur" and "professional" to separate or delineate one artist from another. At first sight the difference may seem blindingly obvious -- amateurs do what they do for the love of it and expect no payment; professionals earn their living by practising their art. But this simplistic reading does not bear examination. What exactly is a "professional" actor, for example? Most youngish (and many older) actors in Britain or the USA, don't maintain themselves and their families as a result of acting. With some exceptions, every young actor I know pays their bills by working at other jobs -- and the restaurants and bars of Manhattan sometimes seem to be staffed entirely by "resting" actors waiting for the next audition. If they are "trained" actors -- as many Western actors can be -- from a drama school or conservatoire, they quickly learn the realities of life outside these institutions. They may be professionally trained, but they are by no means automatically qualified for a career. So, are these actors really "amateurs"? Surely not -- but they are not "professionals" according to any strictly monetary standard. They are, in effect, multiple jobholders with high artistic aspirations and hopes. I agree with Nehad that -- whether we like it or not, and whatever its original root meaning -- the word "amateur" now has a negative, often pejorative significance in modern English usage when it applies to theatre and art. In theatre specifically, "amateurism" is regularly used to imply muddled and botched work, low standards, lack of preparation, and so on; indeed, some amateur theatre companies in the UK, being aware of this, are even following the American usage by re- branding themselves as "community" groups. Regretfully, I believe that this is an irreversible change. The word 'amateur' has simply become too seriously misused. But there is an equal misuse of "professional". Today the word is used more like a weapon than a classification. I have always been rather suspicious of theatre people's description of their work as "the profession" -- as if the craft of making theatre were somehow the same as practising law or medicine. But now it seems to me that the word "professional" is being used like a wall or a drawbridge -- to keep people out. Yet some of the very worst theatre I have ever seen has been produced by so-called "professional" companies -- while one of the two finest productions I have seen in the last ten years was the Argentinean writer/director Federico Leon's 1500 Metres Below the Level of Jack. This was rehearsed without payment for a year by five superb artists, to whose resultant work no one could possibly deny the title of "professional". I believe that if either of these words is ever to have real meaning again in theatre then we must start by attacking what is implied by "professional". The word must be reclaimed by draining it of all its financial connotations, and establishing it as defining behaviour, working methods and aspiration. Some years ago I put together a description of "professional behaviour" in theatre for a new postgraduate degree course I was then creating. Here is what I said, addressing actors and directors: "'Professional behaviour' is measured by your self- discipline, collaborative skills, level of commitment, and by your ability to solve problems creatively, making constructive use of available help and guidance. It is taken for granted that you will always be punctual and prepared and conduct yourself maturely and thoughtfully in rehearsal and performance. These are the minimum conditions for the creation of satisfactory theatre work. They allow creativity and talent to flourish. They do not guarantee artistic success, but it is exceptionally unlikely ever to be achieved outside these guidelines. Making live theatre is always a collective and collaborative undertaking." I think that we can only measure true "professionalism" in this manner -- by seeing it as defining a definite seriousness of purpose and aspiration (which of course does not exclude the making of comedy or farce!). Everything else must be secondary to this. However it is a fact of life that there are many new and (mostly) young theatre-makers who will be hoping and trying to achieve these standards -- but are only partway towards reaching that goal. The most appropriate word for these artists, in my opinion, is "emerging". For me this word conveys both their ambitions and their awareness that they are -- as yet -- not fully there. But where exactly are they going on this journey? In the last two years or so I have spent a total of more than six months in Cairo, gradually getting to know, and coming to love, this magnificent city and its extraordinary people. I have also first-hand knowledge of life in Alexandria and Minya. Inevitably I have been drawn to Egyptian art and culture in general, and particularly to the work of young and independent theatre-makers, of which I have so far seen over 30 separate examples. I have enjoyed many of these -- and not been so impressed by others -- but I have become steadily more concerned by what I have learned about the climate within which they have to function. The public needs to know that in almost every case it is virtually a miracle that any of these productions ever achieves public performance. The very small levels of funding available to independent theatre groups in Egypt, and the vast number of frequently absurd and petty obstacles they have to surmount, are unworthy of a great country and its people. The absence of just one single theatre entirely dedicated to their work -- in one of the few truly great cities of the world -- is an unjustifiable disgrace. Of course I am aware that a small group of people work to fight against this apparent indifference. To name a few at random: I know about the splendid work on behalf of independent theatre groups at El-Hanager by Hoda Wasfi, whom I have never met but who is obviously a formidable and highly-motivated person; about Mahmoud Abu Doma and his groundbreaking Forum for independent theatre groups in Alexandria; and about the tireless efforts of critics such as Nehad Selaiha, Menha El-Batraoui and Girgis Shukry, among others. However, far too often all their efforts are swamped by a fundamental misunderstanding -- at a high level -- of how any lively independent theatre of high standards can be developed. To put it simply, what is the point of having "emerging" theatre groups -- as I have suggested they should be called -- if there is no available route through which they can finally and fully emerge as acknowledged and accepted professional theatre artists? If there is no ladder of public and financial recognition up which the best and most accomplished of these groups can gradually but steadily climb, why should they bother even trying? Currently they mostly survive -- just -- partly because they largely subsidise themselves, but mainly because their passion for theatre and their desire to communicate keep them going. But if these vivid fires are not fuelled by some form of public recognition or support then they will eventually burn out. What is desperately needed in Egypt is a system of public and governmental recognition of theatre that envisages a possible progression for independent groups of quality through several distinct stages. I do fully appreciate that systems cannot merely be transplanted from one culture to another, but my extensive experience of theatre internationally leads me to conclude that without such a staged system Egypt's independent theatre will wither and die. There are examples of countries where such a system has been steadily implemented and has resulted in great strides being made in the international artistic reputation of these countries -- such as Greece, where there have been substantial changes in these matters for the better in the last decade or so. (Not that the Greek system is perfect by any means -- far from that -- but at least they have moved forward.) I would recommend classifying all "professionally aspiring" independent theatre in Egypt into five stages or categories -- unfunded, seed-funded, project-funded, annually-funded and revenue-funded. These would be defined as follows. 1-"Unfunded" performances by companies, some of which are potentially "emerging" companies. 2-"Seed-funding" for selected emerging companies -- relatively small amounts of public funding to help sustain the artistic development of emerging groups. 3-"Project-funding" for selected seed-funded companies -- more or less realistic public funding for salaries and production expenses on a project-by-project basis. 4-"Annual funding" -- completely realistic funding for established groups to cover salaries, production and administrative expenses as above for a year's programme of at least two productions. 5-"Revenue funding" -- annual funding as above for a fixed number of years (three or four, say) to support regular programming. I am not advocating unlimited funding or wasteful extravagance. This will be public money, after all. Naturally groups must fall out at every stage; and all the assessment of groups must be open, regular and without nepotism. But without such a staged system where can groups go? How can they develop? What is the point of their working hard to establish and maintain truly "professional" standards in such a climate? I was introduced to the experience of Cairo by an invitation to attend the 2003 International Festival of Experimental Theatre. I saw some fascinating work then, but I was surprised -- and disappointed -- by the relative absence of theatre on show that had been made in Egypt by the host country's own theatre artists. Then I did not have the knowledge of the Egyptian cultural scene that I have now, but I do know that most other international visitors to CIFET were surprised by this absence; and many concluded that the Egyptian government was somehow ashamed of its own theatre-makers. Whether this is correct or not I do not know -- I have never talked to any government official about it. However, it is beyond dispute that theatre in Egypt does not play anything like as prominent a role on the national, regional and world stage as it could and should do. To achieve this, it needs the kind of encouragement from its government that will foster the maintenance and raising of standards, and establish a proper and fully accountable system of assessment for funding. None of these things is at present in place; and their absence is very keenly felt by those of us who love Egypt, its people and its artists. * The writer is a Scots theatre-maker and author who has extensive experience of working within international theatre contexts. He is a professional mentor and adviser to many theatre artists throughout the world.
