I just finished the Tour Producer Training course run by PAC Australia—designed to help new producers wrap their heads around the logistics of regional touring. I started it because I have a show I want to tour: An Ambivalent Woman of 37. A two-hander. Minimal set. A few props. You’d think: light. Easy. A show made to move.
But not so.
It might look light on its feet, but there’s a heavy lift in getting it across Australia—especially when simplicity is actually the result of precision. That makes bump-in and show-on-the-same-day unrealistic. And that, in turn, means more cost. Presenters see “two-hander” and expect it to land in a certain budget bracket. Go over that number and you’re encroaching on ensemble territory—so they’d rather book a proper ensemble and a cheaper solo show. It’s all about smart and diverse programming. Budgets. Math.
And that’s just one helpful lesson.
I also learned that just because you’ve made a thing, doesn’t mean there’s a place for it. Or rather not a ready-made one. You have to work—hard—to create that space. To convince presenters, funders, and audiences that it’s worth showing up for.
Not to mention the broader questions: Is your work sustainable to produce and tour? Who gets left out when you take it on the road? Access, energy use, regional viability—it all adds up. And it all matters.
This course ran alongside my studies in Arts Marketing and Management at Deakin, and the two couldn’t have been more complementary. Together they’ve grown my passion for thinking about the pipeline: from idea to product to audience.
I remember starting to mull over this back in 2010 when I was making new work in WA. But it feels more urgent now. Audiences are harder to draw. Dollars are harder to part with. Why go out when you’ve got streaming and a good dinner?
As a creative producer, I feel the responsibility to make something worth leaving the house for and ultimately to grow audiences. But selling yourself while you’re in the midst of the creative weeds—full of doubt about what you’re making—takes cojones… and maybe even a drop of crazy. That’s the dilemma.
And part of this is bigger than me.
Where are the performing arts headed?
Will theatres survive the next twenty years?
Will they be full—and with whom?
Are we now in a cycle where only the loudest, most commercial acts can fill seats? And does that even matter?
No answers.
Just some pressing, fascinating conundrums.