Heart thumping. Palms sweating. Gut twisting. Adrenaline pumping.
That’s what it feels like to walk into an audition in a cold, dimly lit room with little fanfare and no audience. Long before the show you pay to watch, this is where key decisions that determine who gets a role begin. It’s where the challenges that lead to lack of representation onstage are front and center.
In some cases, auditions can make actors from marginalized groups question if there’s a space for them in the industry given the discrimination and exclusion they face.
Actors walk in to be judged by a few select people behind the casting table, which often includes the director, casting director and a producer. They have the power to hire an actor.
There’s often a lack of diversity among this group of decision-makers when it comes to race, sexuality, gender or physical disabilities.
In the 2018-19 season, 93% of directors on Broadway were white and 78% of people in director positions off-Broadway were white, according to a study by the Asian American Performers Action Coalition.
Arts Access surveyed local theater directors to see how this systemic issue trickles down to the scene in North Texas.
We surveyed directors who led 2022-23 season productions at five of the most prominent professional theaters in the region: The Dallas Theater Center, Amphibian Stage, Stage West Theatre, Theatre Three and Undermain Theatre. We focused on theaters whose core mission is not focused on marginalized communities.
Respondents were surveyed on their race, gender identity, sexuality, age and other factors. A total of 24 directors led the 28 productions at these five theaters last year. Of the 24 directors, 16 responded to our survey, including one who did not identify within the racial categories listed. Six did not respond and two opted not to respond.
The survey found 7 of the 16 local theater directors, or about 43%, who responded to the survey were white. Residents in Dallas, Arlington and Fort Worth are 34% white, according to U.S. census data, meaning white directors are overrepresented compared to the local population. Two of the directors who responded to the survey led more than one production in the season — both are white men.
Sarahbeth Grossman, a producer at Dallas Theater Center, said the theater’s selection of directors is based on the plays they choose.
“What kind of director will do the most interesting or relevant interpretation of the specific play according to the needs of our season in terms of the time slot the production falls in and the venue where it will be mounted?” she said.
Recent pushes for diversity and inclusion in TV, film and theater have largely focused on the stage. Think of the viral hashtag #OscarsSoWhite after all 20 acting nominations were given to white actors in 2015. Even as social media fills with calls for more diversity on stage, there’s a holdup: Few people understand the audition process and the power of the people who oversee it.
Charles Jackson Jr. is an associate producer at Jubilee Theatre in Fort Worth who scouts talent for the theater and helps cast performers. Jackson said production teams and directors can bring their own biases and opinions and shape the vision of the final production.
“We know that statistically you are more likely to hire someone who looks like you and that’s anybody,” he said. “You’re more likely to hire a person that you can relate to on that type of level.”
Grossman said she doesn’t think who’s behind the casting table negatively impacts the diversity on stage.
“In my experience over the past five years at DTC, who is behind the table does not limit our intention to create diverse creative teams and in our casting,” she said. “We are dedicated to having as many different people on our stages and creating our productions as possible while still serving the needs of each individual script.”
How does the lack of diversity behind the casting table affect what we see on stage? The DTC and other local theaters we surveyed were not able to provide comprehensive self-reported demographic information on who was cast in their productions. However, national data shows films led by women or people of color tend to have more diverse casting than those directed by white men, according to a UCLA Hollywood Diversity Report.
Jay Duffer is co-artistic director at Amphibian Stage in Fort Worth and a professor at The University of Texas at Arlington who teaches directing. He directed the productions Marie Antoinette, Spaceman and The Visit for Amphibian Stage’s 2022 and 2023 seasons.
He said Amphibian Stage actively seeks directors from marginalized communities.
“I feel like we’re very proactive when we’re looking at our season and keeping in mind, the idea that we do want non-white directors of color to lead some of these projects or even specifically just directors who are still considered in minority groups, whether it be women or whether it be directors from the LGBTQ community as well,” he said.
Dana Schultes, executive producer at Stage West in Fort Worth, said the theater makes efforts to work with artists from different communities. She said producers are often out in the community attending shows to search for new directors to work with.
“We’ve spent several years prioritizing more diversity in our workspace and casting,” she said. “What ends up being a little bit demoralizing is when you don’t see it paying off with people showing up and responding to all the different ways that you can think of as you’re trying to brainstorm and take classes and do workshops of how do I reach more people?”
There are no industrywide efforts to ensure actors will be treated equitably during an audition, which begs the question: How do we expect equitable results on stage from an inequitable process?
We dove into the audition process — and the experiences of actors who traverse it — to understand the way forward.
The audition
One of the biggest challenges for actors is every theater chooses how it conducts auditions. No two audition processes are the same.
It means there are no universal expectations for how actors who need accommodations or come from marginalized backgrounds are supported.
While unions like Actors Equity Association require theaters to meet certain audition guidelines, those standards are a baseline that only apply to union members or actors who choose to work under a union contract for certain jobs. Those who want to become a member must prove they’ve been paid to work professionally as an actor or stage manager.
Dallas Theater Center said it follows guidelines set by unions like Actor’s Equity.
“The audition process itself is pretty standard based on the union processes for holding auditions,” Grossman said. “They are open calls and then are callbacks. The union regulates how many times you can call somebody back or make them come in the room before you offer them the part or start paying them for their time.”
For each of the regional theaters we surveyed, each has a certain number of union spots that can be given and union actors are often prioritized during the audition process. This is another nuance: While some actors may have greater protections than others, all of them can still face discrimination or a lack of inclusivity.
Marianne Galloway, 46, is an equity actor who lives in Dallas. She has been on hundreds of auditions throughout her 20-year professional career. Galloway, who has also worked as a director and producer, is hard of hearing and has transverse myelitis, a neurological condition that can result in difficulties with movement, sensitivity to touch and fatigue, among other issues.
One audition horror story is seared into her memory. She spent countless hours practicing her 16 bars of music. She researched the theater, its staff and knew which performers worked there in the past.
When Galloway walked into the audition, she felt thrown off a cliff.
She didn’t know the director would be video-chatting from New York. On the fuzzy iPad screen, it was hard to read his lips, so she stumbled through their conversation. The pianist sat far away in the dimly lit room so she struggled to coordinate with them. When she brought up her concerns, she felt dismissed with “it’s fine” and “don’t worry about it.”
Galloway feigned a smile until she could get to her car and burst into tears.
“I was just traumatized by how completely and utterly powerless I was, even bearing the burden of communication as much as I do as a deaf and hard-of-hearing person,” she said. “There was absolutely nothing I could have done in that situation to communicate better.”
That was a decade ago, but auditions are still a behind-the-scenes process, understood mainly by those in the industry.
Of the theaters surveyed, one director reported a physical disability and one director reported a learning disability. The industry has shifted to focus on hiring disability advocates for auditions, but it’s a rare occurrence in North Texas. While an advocate may provide input, it’s up to the director and those behind the casting table to follow their advice.
No directors identified as non-binary, gender non-conforming or gender fluid, according to the survey.
That’s something Christine Sanders believes has impacted her during the audition process. Sanders, 36, who lives in Dallas, is an equity performer who does theater, voiceover and film work. Sanders identified with they/them pronouns at the time and now identifies with she/her pronouns.
When Sanders walked into a North Texas audition, she was asked to fill out an audition form — a common request from theaters. But this time she was encouraged to include her pronouns and gender identity.
“I identified as non-binary or gender fluid, and used they/them pronouns, and I had put that on my audition sheet,” Sanders said.
The actor said the messaging around pronouns was, “We embrace gender fluidity and transgender identity, and we respect people as they come.”
Sanders was later told the people behind the casting table were afraid of offending any of the actors who use they/them pronouns with the offer of a male or female role.
“Something that was actually meant to be inclusive was suddenly being used to exclude people,” Sanders said.
The callback
Mark Quach, who lives in Rowlett, has worked in North Texas’ musical theater scene for the past decade.
The 31-year-old actor said he’s struggled to be cast for lead or romantic roles with substance since he started his career.
As a younger actor, he was used to attending auditions and getting cast for roles as the comedic relief, kung fu expert or villain. It’s the kind of typecasting that Quach, who is Vietnamese American, has experienced time and time again, he said.
“I am Asian American. I am a little bit bigger. I’ve some dad bod in me, so I don’t necessarily fit that cookie-cutter mold,” he said.
In recent years, he’s seen a slow shift — one that he says is long overdue.
“I'm glad that it’s changing, but it’s like why did it take so long? It’s still not at the rate that I would love for it to happen,” he said. Other Asian American actors he knows in North Texas have had similar experiences. “They would have one or two times where they are the lead, but it’s nothing ever consistent.”
Directors set the overall vision of a production. That vision has a profound impact on actors and the type of roles they’ll be cast in.
Asian and Pacific Islander leads or coleads appeared in 3.4% of the 1,300 top films from 2007-19, according to a USC Annenberg Inclusion Initiative study.
Only 1 of the 16 directors who responded to the survey identified as Asian, Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander.
Bismark Quintanilla, 29, has worked professionally in North Texas for three years. He’s done commercial, print, TV, film and has performed at Cara Mía Theatre. The actor, who is SAG-AFTRA eligible, said there’s not a lot of opportunity to land lead roles. The Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists is a labor union that represents actors, announcers, news writers, singers and other media professionals.
“It’s like the few TV roles or film roles I’ve gotten have usually been co-star, either you have a line or not, I was background and things like that,” Quintanilla said.
Hispanic/Latino people led or co-led only 10 of 2022’s top-grossing films, according to a USC Annenberg inclusion 2023 study. Yet, Hispanic/Latino people make up nearly 1 in 5 of the U.S. population. The study showed when Hispanic/Latino people are on screen, they’re often typecast into roles related to crime, poverty or immigration.
Across 1,600 popular films from 2007-22, 4.6% were led by Hispanic/Latino directors.
Locally, 12% of directors who responded to our survey identified as Hispanic or Latino/a/e/x. In Dallas, 42% of people identify as Hispanic or Latino, according to U.S. census data.
“It was never like, ‘Hey, let’s call back Mark for the romantic lead. Let’s call back Mark for the character with substance,’” Quach said. “For the longest time, I took it to heart where it’s like ‘Oh, I guess that’s not who I am.’ … It’s tough, man. There’s a lot of times where it starts to be about questioning your ability.”
The casting decision
Actors are notified when they get a part, but actors who don’t receive a role rarely receive feedback. That means directors and producers don’t have to explain why they didn’t cast actors who auditioned.
For her musical audition, actor KJ James gave a cheeky rendition of Billy Elliott’s “Grandma Song” and the casting table was in stitches. James left the audition feeling like she had killed it.
Then radio silence. She felt gutted after how well it had gone.
A couple weeks later, a friend told James about a conversation they had with a production team member who was at her audition. They said James gave a great audition. Their critique?
“‘I just couldn’t see the audience buying her on stage. I just couldn’t see her as part of this show and the audience believing it,” according to James’ friend.
That was her first audition for a musical after coming out as trans. The 39-year-old actor who lives in McKinney hasn’t gone back to a musical audition.
“I think that for me, the biggest struggle is as a trans person … are people going to see me as who I am? Are people going to believe me?” she said. “When I go into an audition space, it becomes worse because it becomes about not only do I have to show them that I’m a talented performer, but I need them to believe me, not just as the character but as a person.”
Theaters have told her, she said, that they’re not sure a fellow actor would feel comfortable playing a romantic role opposite her. Some have said “their theater’s just not there yet.” Because she doesn’t have what’s traditionally considered a female singing voice, she said she doesn’t feel like she fits anywhere.
We spoke to theaters about how actors can submit a complaint and found there is not a universal, standardized process. Actors who are not working equity contracts usually have to work directly with staff to start addressing their complaints.
At Amphibian Stage and Stage West, actors can work with stage managers if they face discrimination or experiences that make them uncomfortable. Actors at Amphibian Stage are also told they can go to an ombudsman on the theater’s board with concerns if they want to go above the artistic directors. Theatre Three performers can talk to any staff members about their concerns. Those processes can take time and it’s still up to the theaters to address concerns.
Grossman, from Dallas Center Theater, said actors at the theater are told on the first day of rehearsals that they can speak with the stage manager, director, supervisor, HR or others on staff about any concerns.
“DTC has strict HR policies to ensure that complaints are received, noted, and investigated as appropriate and necessary without fear of retribution,” she said.
The Undermain Theatre in Deep Ellum declined an interview request.
A 2022-23 report by GLAAD found transgender characters were 5.4% of all LGBTQ characters on TV last year. While the number of roles for transgender actors has grown in recent years, they continue to struggle with issues like pay equity, misgendering, a lack of support and tokenization. This study and others referenced throughout the story don’t have data on the number of working trans directors.
None of the directors who responded to our survey identified as transgender or non-binary. Of the local theater directors surveyed, 56% were male and 44% were female.
Ally Beans is a casting director based in Dallas who has worked with the Dallas Theater Center. She said for casting to change, “there simply has to be a top to bottom overhaul.”
“I don’t think we’re really ever going to fully get there until we have more diversity in the less visible spaces,” she said. “We need more directors of color, music directors of color, choreographers, producers of color and writers of color.”
Sarah Barnes, associate producer at Theatre Three, said her organization is actively trying to diversify directors.
“So it is something that we are conscious of and are continuously trying to expand upon with giving newer, sometimes less experienced directors a chance because they just haven’t had the chance in the past,” she said.
That can mean pairing a less experienced director with a more seasoned musical director. Theatre Three offers assistant directorships and co-director positions so there are more opportunities for people to develop experience.
It’s one way to start growing the roster of directors who are trusted to lead a production.
“Unfortunately, a lot of our industry is who you know and who you've worked with,” she said. “I think a lot of that is also in directing. If I have never seen what you've done, I've never met you before, there's less of a chance of being hired than a person that I've worked with for 20 years and know exactly what kind of art they do.”
Beans, a white woman, recognizes the influence she can have as someone who’s usually behind the table at auditions. While she doesn’t make the final decision on casting, she’s not afraid to challenge biases.
“If a director ever says, ‘I see this part is white or this part has to be white.’ We say, ‘Why?’ until they can’t answer anymore,” she said. “I’ve seen when we are respectfully and kindly like, ‘Explain to me why it has to be that way and why you see it that way?’ Most of the time people kind of come to the conclusion on their own of, ‘Oh, it doesn’t.’”
The show must go on
Efforts to make auditions more equitable have come in starts and stops here and across the country. In those conversations, metrics, transparency and accommodations have been the focus.
The Actors Equity union used to collect survey demographics from theaters. It began phasing out the survey in 2022.
Danee Conley, diversity and inclusion strategist at Actors Equity, said there are real concerns about data collection and the impact of bias on actors who share their information.
“We’ve kind of pulled back a bit and are trying to think through the ways that we can address essentially hiring practices and casting practices through more than just demographic data,” she said.
Sanders, the actor who faced discrimination when sharing pronouns, said she has experienced the way demographic information can be used to exclude performers. The metrics don’t go deep enough, Sanders said.
“They'll have the metrics of like, ‘We’ve worked with this many people of color. We’ve worked with this many members of the LGBTQ community,’ she said. “I’m like, cool. What’s your retention rate of those groups? Does anybody stay past a year? Does anybody come back after six months? Does anybody come back after three?
Given the pitfalls of metrics, Conley said Actors Equity encourages performing arts organizations to work with cultural and intimacy coordinators.
“Not only are they creating as inclusive spaces as possible, but as folks are auditioning, they know that when they get a callback or when they start a production at that theater, that they’ll still receive the support that they need,” she said.
Conley said a third party can help theaters address blind spots and think through issues like how to make an audition space more inclusive for actors when a casting table lacks diversity.
Jackson, the Jubilee producer, said theaters can evaluate whether casting decisions are being led by bias or story value and take steps to make actors feel safe and seen.
Galloway, the actor, said she wants to see audition notices clearly indicate that there is an accessibility advocate who can discuss accommodations ahead of time.
“That person has to be open to hearing what the artist is trying to say and providing options and asking intuitive questions,” she said. “There is no ‘one size fits all.’ So I think that having that person who is specifically there to be an advocate for that individual artist or those individual artists is imperative.”
Monalisa Amidar, who’s Filipino American, has worked as a theater actor, director, choreographer and teaching artist in North Texas for more than 20 years. The 43-year-old equity actor has performed at Dallas Children’s Theater, WaterTower Theatre, Amphibian Stage among other local theaters.
Amidar wants audition notices to list who will be behind the casting table and to include photos. She said it gives performers an opportunity to do their research on who will shape a production.
“It matters because it gives actors a sense of agency about making a decision of whether or not they would like to be involved and be a collaborator,” she said.
At the end of the day, performers want a focus on who’s behind the casting table. However, this kind of data can be difficult to find.
The Stage Directors and Choreographers Society is a theater union that represents directors and choreographers across the U.S. Stephanie Coen, director of artistic affairs, said the organization is not able to provide a demographic breakdown of its members.
For Galloway, just as one audition ends, the exhausting process for another audition begins.
“It’s like perpetually being out of work and preparing for a big interview,” she said.
She’s often glued to her phone.
She scrolls through her emails to look for audition announcements. She also checks her group chat of actor friends to see if anyone has flagged an upcoming audition.
Scrolling, checking, scrolling, checking.
Galloway is always on the hunt for her next gig. She hopes this time she’ll get a fair shot.
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