On the subject of credit

This is a tender thing I will confess to you now.  My cheeks flush red and my head is tempted to hang in embarrassment typing these words, but I fear that the only forward is asking: Artists, please credit me for my work. I’m specifically talking to you, not producers or institutions or anyone else.  You the writers, the directors, the designers, the collaborative theater makers, the artist technologists - please credit me. 

If I had to estimate, I would say more than half of the projects I’ve worked on as a dramaturg have left me off the production staff credits.  This includes projects at theaters I work at full time, projects that theaters have hired me specifically for the project and projects that go to other theaters after I’ve worked on them.  It feels a bit pitiful to say that oftentimes one's collaborators forget you.  I think there may be a lot of reasons why this happens; Perhaps, despite being in the rehearsal room every day, the theater just leave you off because they thought that they paid you enough to not mention you; Perhaps the institution simply doesn’t know who did what where; Perhaps you worked on the project for years beforehand and then the show moved to another institution or on to broadway and people have hesitations in attaching someone's name to a project who isn’t there now; Maybe now that you’ve moved past rewrites and development, there’s a narrative that you want to tell that doesn’t include the dramaturg?  Capitalism has the desire to reach into community and choose ONE person who is the great one, one person who is the genius, one person who did an amazing thing and who we should lift up to the heavens and make a star.  In order to establish this myth, the people that helped that person do the great thing, must be erased or diminished.  And if you are the great artist, you must assist in this activity, you must help this hero narrative be written.   You thanks the commercial theater producers who came into the project when it was already made, you thank institution’s, you thank the artistic directors - none of those people being the actual people who first read your play, advocated for it, built development plans for it, dramaturges it and fought for its place in the theaters season.   And because this history is not told, no one actually understands how a great work becomes great in this industry.  

And I get it and listen, I want you to be a star too!  And I’m not asking for any money, like at all, I’m not asking for a piece of your play or your musical or your project going forward. Dramaturgs like myself are taught all the horror stories of what happens when a dramaturg gets too involved and becomes bitter and starts to ask for co-writing credit, trying to claim ownership over ideas contributed.  Dramaturgs are taught to be humble.  Which is why it is so hard to ask for this.  But please.  Just list me.  Like a line in the program.  That’s the request.  It’s so small.  But it’s so important.

Here are the reasons why it’s important:

First, the selfish reason.  Dramaturg don’t get credited for their work and because of this no one knows what we do, so it’s very difficult for people to see the value in our jobs.  Because we aren’t credited we are never in New York Times articles, leaders of institutions never get to know our names, and neither do board of directors who hire leaders of institutions.  This makes it almost impossible to get promoted or get considered for leadership roles.  There’s a reason why directors get these leadership roles far easier than dramaturges and that reason is visibility.  

Second, a consideration about the future of the industry.  Surely we have all noticed the development houses closing nationwide.  From Sundance Theater Institute to The Lark to Humana, the institutions committed to developing the work of the future have shuttered their doors.  There’s tons of reasons for this as varied as the institutions themselves, but I ask that you think about an added theory which I will lay at your feet; These development houses are responsible for almost every great piece that we have seen off broadway or on broadway over the last 20 years.  But if you go to a theater and open up a playbill, you never see any of those names.  Maybe sometimes on page 17, in 6 point font one of them is mentioned, but they are never lifted up, they are never acknowledged as the place where the project began, or first got its development, or was worked on for years.  It doesn’t fit the narrative.  The narrative is that the artist independently came up with a great idea, wrote it and made it awesome, and then the leader of a great institution found that project and made it great.  And because we don’t give credit where credit is due, the development institutions who have built a pipeline of great plays to us have crumbled to dust over the last three years.  No one knew they existed.  No one knew what they did.  And they were all filled with dramaturges like me.  

Listen, I love you artists.  That’s why I’m writing to you.  I don’t want to have anymore awkward lobby moments with artist who I love as I give them a hug and congratulate them on the production of a piece I worked on for years but don’t anymore and they smile painfully and I can tell they are realizing that they didn’t credit me anywhere and they feel bad about it but felt like they didn’t know how or where to put my name and maybe the producers said they didn’t want to but now I’m here telling them it was great and they are remembering that note in the second act that changed everything and they are trying to say something nice to me in return and it’s coming out as stilted and I’m excusing myself rapidly from the conversation.  Please just tell the producers I helped.  Please tell them that you’d like to make sure I get a credit.  That’s all.   I expect people in power at institutions to forget about me - but I need you to stand up for me and tell it the way it happened.  Your honesty is my future.  

(This article is written with special thanks to the artists who ALWAYS credit me and shout me out with abandon such as Ione Lloyd, Ryan Haddad, Mona Mansour and Whitney White - to name just a few)