We once spent two hours before a show looking for the cable that connects the soundboard to the snake. It was exactly where it shouldn’t have been: under a costume rack, in an old snack box labeled “Old Phones?”
That was the moment I realized something: Our theatre wasn’t broken, but our systems were duct-taped together by memory, convenience, and crossed fingers.
I remember the exact day Andrew, my tech director and close friend—and the only guy who ever gave me brutally honest feedback—told me he needed to take the spring off. No tech directing, no set designing, no building. Nothing. Andrew had become our entire institutional memory. He knew exactly which brand of black paint covered our ancient wood floors best, our suppliers by heart, and which dimmer randomly flickered during cue settings. Without him, my gut dropped, and my brain panicked: “Where is everything? Who will do everything?”
Turns out, it’s not just a “Kevin” problem. About 71% of small arts organizations operate without any written succession plan, relying heavily on one person’s memory (BoardSource Leading with Intent). Nearly half of community theatres have no paid staff, fully depending on volunteers (American Association of Community Theatre (AACT), Theatre Facts Report)—about one-third of whom quit each year, forcing groups to constantly start over (AmeriCorps Volunteer Retention Report).
And let’s be honest about curtains—real curtains. Most theatres neglect regular maintenance schedules. In fact, at my old theatre, curtain maintenance was more of a “I vaguely remember doing this 10 years ago” situation. Ignoring basic upkeep typically costs organizations three to four times more in emergency repairs later (FacilitiesNet, Preventive vs. Reactive Maintenance Costs).
Taking over a program often means scrambling to figure out where you have accounts and—harder yet—remembering passwords. Two years after I retired, someone finally thought to ask me for the combination to the safe. First, what did they do for two years? And second, did they really think I’d remember after all that time? (Okay, I did, but most wouldn’t.)
I wrote this audit because I’ve been there, and I genuinely want to help performing arts leaders and arts administrators build sustainable, thriving programs. Especially for those managing multiple arts programs under one organizational umbrella, having clear, documented systems is crucial. “Organized chaos” isn’t normal—it’s just chaos, and eventually, it catches up with you—usually at the worst possible moment.
What I’ve put together is a real-world, theatre-tested audit guide covering everything from your calendar to your cables—with checklists, practical tools, and blunt questions you can actually use. If you’ve ever said:
- “I swear I saved that on my desktop…”
- “Check the Google Doc” (but no one knows which one)
- “We’ve always done it this way” (even if it doesn’t work anymore)
Then yes, this was written for you.
Want the full Audit Guide + Download Toolkit?
Includes:
- Department Checklists (Tech, FOH, Admin, Box Office, Marketing)
- 1-Hour Express Audit
- Ben’s 30-Minute Team Health Check
- And yes…a checklist for the checklists
I understand hesitating to fill out forms for guides—I feel exactly the same way. Honestly, my goal is simply to help, not bombard you with emails or calls. You have my word.
Let’s stop running on panic. Let’s stop celebrating barely making it. Let’s run it like a show—and build it like a business.
— Kevin
