Theatrical Intimacy Designer

“A growing theater trend: The art of staging love”

by Matthew J. Palm

[I’m an associate member of the American Theatre Critics Association (ATCA), the professional organization for theater reviewers in print, on line, and on electronic media.  Each week, ATCA sends out an e-mail to members called “The Update” with the latest news from the association.  One regular feature of “The Update” is entitled “This Just In,” a list of “select articles by ATCA members that popped-up in our newsfeed.”  On 26 March, one entry on the list caught my attention: “A growing theater trend: The art of staging love” by Matthew J. Palm (Orlando Sentinel 18 Mar. 2019,  https://www.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment/arts-and-theater/the-artistic-type/os-et-theater-intimacy-directors-love-scenes-20190318-story.html?fbclid=IwAR14DsGcgLGXA4KI5M0OodjLSPe63gUnm7xSaWkRK4kDXBDllnCJF9zFlto). 

[I’m always on the look-out  for articles covering jobs in theater few people know about.  So far that’s been dance captains, swings, stage managers, wig designers, and some other functions.  I couldn’t wait to read Palm’s article and see what he says about “theatrical intimacy designer”!  (My imagination was overflowing.  I wondered if it has any elements of a “fluffer” from porn films.  If you don’t know what that is, you’ll have to look it up yourself—I’m not going to describe it here!  I’m also not going to explain how come I know about it.) 

[Anyway, it turns out to be a legit job in some productions which feature love scenes or (simulated) sex scenes.  In these days of raised consciousness about interpersonal relations, even on stage in public (as it were), both parties to scenes of intimacy can find themselves confused or uncomfortable.  An intimacy designer can alleviate a lot of confusion and discomfort and set parameters for the rehearsal and performance of such scenes.]

Actor Paige Lindsey White has been part of some bad love scenes.

“You feel like you’re splashing around with someone who doesn’t know how to swim,” said White, who’s performing this month in Orlando Shakes’ [Orlando Shakespeare Theater] “Gertrude and Claudius” [by Mark St. Germain, an adaptation of John Updike’s 2000 novel] and “Hamlet.”

Theatrical moments of intimacy, whether depicting romantic love, sexual violence or nudity, can be awkward for actors — or worse. That’s why, more and more, intimacy professionals are coming on the scene.

A poll by the Southeastern Theatre Conference, a North Carolina-based trade organization with a membership of more than 400 theaters nationwide, found that only 26 percent of respondents to a 2018 survey had policies in place concerning onstage intimacy.

But that number is growing, as playbills increasingly list an intimacy designer alongside a production’s choreographer or scenic designer.

The burgeoning field is a sign of the times.

The #metoo movement against sexual harassment sparked “a strong desire for a realignment of power within the creative process,” said Mitzi Maxwell, executive director of Mad Cow Theatre in downtown Orlando. “As women have been disproportionately affected, it comes as no surprise that women are speaking up for change.”

Kate Busselle, a University of Central Florida [UCF] graduate, co-founded Theatrical Intimacy Education with female colleagues. Her job: “I collaborate with the creative team to create a design of intimacy where all boundaries are respected,” said Busselle, who worked on Orlando Shakes’ production of “Gertrude and Claudius.” It was the first time the Shakes employed an intimacy designer.

During rehearsal, Busselle worked with actors to define their movements.

“We know that Gertrude and Claudius’ hands are going to touch for a ‘2-count’ for example,” she said. Or her stage directions might note that “Gertrude makes muscle-level contact with Claudius’s chest.”

The idea is to clearly define the intention of each potentially invasive action and the intensity with which the action happens. But more often than not, the work involves making sure everyone is on the same page.

“I’d say 90 percent of my work lies in translation,” said Busselle, who’s pursuing a doctorate in theater and performance studies at University of Missouri.

The actors in “Gertrude and Claudius” agreed.

“It put us all in this common vocabulary and made it easier to talk about,” said White. “It increased my comfort.”

Busselle’s work also levels the playing field for performers.

“It was just a great way of making sure everybody in the room had a voice,” said Gene Gillette, who plays Claudius opposite White’s Gertrude.

That’s important when actors have differing ideas about what is acceptable behavior.

“You’re always going to run into an actor who says ‘You can touch me anywhere,’ ” Busselle said. “That puts a lot of pressure on the other actor to say ‘Me too,’ even if they don’t mean it.”

Other local theaters handle intimacy in different ways. At the Garden Theatre and Winter Park Playhouse, the production’s director stages any such scenes. Mad Cow is planning to use an intimacy coach in the future, Maxwell said.

Like others around the country, Mad Cow, the Shakes and Theatre UCF are looking to adopt the Chicago Theatre Standards, a set of best-practice recommendations made by more than 20 theaters after a sexual-harassment scandal rocked that city.

Kate Ingram had a graduate student serve as an “intimacy captain” when she directed Theatre UCF’s “Our Country’s Good” this winter. She worked to strike a balance between student safety and teaching her budding actors about digging deep into their emotions.

“I’m trying to get them to shed their inhibitions and be daring and bold,” Ingram said. “I’m looking for spontaneity, I’m looking for acting in the moment.”

Having the intimacy captain gave the students greater peace of mind, she said.

“I think they felt comforted by the fact they were taken care of during these tricky situations,” said Ingram. She sees planning intimate moments in the same way fight choreographers have been used for years to stage scenes of violence.

“Everyone thinks fight choreography is more frightening,” Ingram said. “But both are about feeling safe.”

For actors, having their physical movements carefully planned can allow them to focus their energy on a scene’s emotion.

“Out of structure comes freedom,” said Gillette.

And ultimately, the emotion is what tells the story.

“We can still have a thriving creative process and be respectful of everybody’s bodies,” Busselle said. “It’s being thoughtful about how we create each moment.”

[As I was reading Palm article, I began to recall some incidents during productions when I’d have welcomed someone to set some ground rules about intimacy in rehearsals and performances.  In grad school, I had a classmate, a woman slightly older than me who was also married (her husband was also at the same university in a different program).  For some reason, she couldn’t keep her hands off me—even at 30, I wasn’t an especially good-looking guy—and her unwanted attentions made me both uncomfortable and angry in productions, class scenes, and out-of-class downtime.  I finally had to tell her that what she was doing was a form of assault and she should stop.

[In an Off-Off-Broadway showcase production of Oscar Wilde’s An Ideal Husband, the actress playing my wife—I had the title role—insisted on giving me a real-life French kiss in one scene.  I was surprised the first time she did this in rehearsal and I protested privately to her that it was hardly Victorian.  We were doing the play in its own period, 1895, and the theater was very small, a store-front space with the audience a few feet away from us on two sides.  I never said anything to the director because I didn’t want to seem a complainer at a time when I was just starting on what I hoped would be a career, so I just acquiesced to what I felt was theatrically inappropriate behavior.

[In another show at another theater, an actress who was also the co-founder and co-artistic director of the company, started flirting with me heavily during rehearsals.  Besides not being used to that kind of attention, I’d known this woman for a little while by this time and my relationship with her and her two (male) colleagues had been very professional up to this point.  I’d acted for the company by this time and I’d taught in their conservatory.  Around a year later, they’d offer me a chance to direct and I had hoped that this association would be an important step in my nascent career.  I had no intention of getting involved with one of the theater’s directors, and I also didn’t want to start a fuss by involving the other two directors.  I ended up just letting the actress know, without putting it bluntly, that I wasn’t interested—after all, we still had to perform together.

[Matthew J. Palm has watched hundreds of plays, ballets, symphony concerts, operas and other staged shows since first seeing Les Miserables as a teenager in Upstate New York.  A graduate of Syracuse University, he is the Orlando Sentinel’s arts writer and theater critic.]

*  *  *  *

Chicago Theatre Standards Pilot Project
by Laura T. Fisher and Lori Myers

[In his article on the new theatrical profession of intimacy designer, Matthew J. Palm mentions the “Chicago Theatre Standards.”  I’d never heard of this document before, so I looked it up.  I found the introduction below and decided to post it with Palm’s article.  This explanation of the issue comes from #NotInOurHouse (https://www.notinourhouse.org/chicago-theatre-standards-pilot-project/), described as a Chicago theatre community.]

The initiative to create the Chicago Theatre Standards (CTS) was born of artists and administrators at all levels of our community working together toward a cultural paradigm shift away from turning a blind eye to sexual harassment, discrimination, violence, intimidation and bullying in our theatres and towards mentoring, prevention, and accountability.

When at risk, artists are often afraid to speak out – particularly where there is a notable power differential. This might be an intern expected to do unsafe things without supervision or protective gear, an actor asked to perform nude after signing on to a project, a costume designer having a fitting sexualized, or agreed-upon choreography ignored in scenes with sexual or violent content. But no one wants to be a complainer, and historically there have too-often been consequences for those that do.

Theatres that choose to adopt these Chicago Theatre Standards seek to strengthen the safety net in their theatres, and provide a process for response without reprisal when conditions are unsafe.

The Chicago Theatre Standards seeks to be pro-everybody: pro-producer, pro-director, pro-actor, pro-designer, pro-union etc. No one is forced to use the document, or shamed for not adopting it. It seeks not to create a community made up of heroes and villains, enact a witch-hunt or create a pitchfork brigade. It seeks not to “call out” members of our community, but to “call in” to mentor and create procedures to improve conditions in spaces that use it, and awareness and standards for all who read it. It is not intended to replace or compete with Actors’ Equity or any other industry organization. This document does not take positions on material, casting practices or artistic values, nor does it prescribe ways of making theatre. It simply seeks to be a tool for self-governance, to strengthen safety nets and create paths for communication, respect, safety, mentoring and accountability.

The Chicago Theatre Standards seeks to be usable regardless of age, size, budget or artistic mission. It is created by artists, for artists. There is no fee, club, not-for-profit status, certificate, or regulatory board. We hope that if a theatre says they are using the document but is not, participants will take the opportunity to read the document and judge for themselves if an organization is honestly trying to adopt it. More essentially, it provides everyone a level of awareness about how things can go. With that information, they can make informed decisions about where they invest their time and talent.

This is not a legal document. It is a cultural document. Dozens have contributed to it including actors, stage managers, artistic directors, violence designers, clowns, managing directors, administrators and attorneys have contributed to it. It was used for a full year by nearly twenty theatres who tested it and contributed critique. It is written with love for our community and compassion for those who make mistakes. We hope that it makes theatre safer for greater risk, and a more enriching experience for everyone. And, yes, it seeks to empower our community to never-again allow a predator to flourish for twenty years with nothing more than hushed warnings to not work at a certain theatre.

This document never would have been written without the courage of a small group of women who came forward and shared their stories of survival. They are heroes. We are in their debt. This document seeks to honor their courage, live by their example, and seek a community that dedicated to the credo NOT IN OUR HOUSE.

Thank you so much for your interest in the Chicago Theatre Standards.

[Laura T. Fisher is the Coordinator of Chicago Theatre Standards and Lori Myers is the Founder of Not In Our House.  The whole CTS document is available at https://www.notinourhouse.org/wp-content/uploads/Chicago-Theatre-Standards-12-11-17.pdf.]