We recently connected with Amanda Pasquini and have shared our conversation below.
Amanda, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.
When I was in high school, I had a number of really unsupportive arts educators. They were individuals who were focused on product over process, wanting to put on a good show with very little concern for the cost. Being a teenager with a strong interest in the arts puts you in a vulnerable position. Art is so personal and comes with an innate yearning for others to appreciate it. I had dreams of going to Broadway, as many youngsters do. I wanted to share my love of theatre with others and I wanted them, in return, to love what I was doing. To be told by people that I looked up to that I, “didn’t have what it takes” or that “I would be a stronger teacher then performer” (for the wrong reasons) really hurt to hear. It also inspired me to be a better leader than they were, to lead with encouragement and to not weaponize others’ insecurities, especially someone who looks to me for guidance. This experience also, unfortunately, drove me away from studying theatre in college and receiving a formal education in the craft that I loved most. I graduated Penn State University with a B.S. in Secondary English Education and had my sights set on teaching high school English, However, when I completed an internship in a local regional theatre to State College, PA my junior year of college—the theatre bug would bit me once again. My spark was back and I knew next to nothing. I only knew that I wanted to work in a theatre for the rest of my life.
I recall saying to a mentor of mine, “It’s too late to shift into theatre. I don’t have enough experience.” This individual looked at me and reminded me how much of theatre is rooted in education. Especially me, someone who was interested in the directing side of things. My background has taught me to be patient, kind, and collaborative with those who look to me as a leader. What I didn’t realize then is that my college education was not an obstacle, but provided me tools to be director worth betting on. There is so much overlap when it comes to what happens in a classroom vs. a rehearsal room. The need to listen to one another, to set each other up for success, to lead with preparation, patience, and efficiency. It’s easy to view my education as useless because it doesn’t fit the textbook definition of what I am doing. However, I am thankful that I am able to see clearly a college education is so much more valuable than a diploma.
If I were to do it all over again, I would have probably tried to complete more internships in regional theatres just because I would have had a lot of fun doing that. But, I love what I do. I only began my professional theatre journey when college ended with essentially no education in the craft itself. I found an apprenticeship with Walnut Street Theatre right out of college and made very little money, but gave the theatre scene in Philly my all. I asked artists that I admired if I could assistant direct for them. I helped out at community theatres and threw my hat in the ring when they were asking for show submissions. I made sure to leave my mark and worked hard so that whenever anyone was looking for a stage director, I would be the one they recommended. And, all I really had to do was lead with the ideals that I had received through my education degree: preparation, patience, efficiency. I even got to work on Broadway as a producer’s assistant! A job that sounds glamorous, but did require a 12-hour work day (definitely a job that existed more glamorously in my mind than in action.)
After my apprenticeship at Walnut, they offered me a full-time entry-level administrative position. I wanted to do more, so I asked for them to give me more. Every task that I received, I tried to knock it out of the park. I worked my way from Education Programs Associate to Assistant Director of Education. Now, I am the Associate Director of Education at the Walnut Street Theatre and part of my job includes directing a touring children’s production every year. It’s my dream.
I know it’s easy for me to say, “go out and do it!” But, each time a student of mine at the Walnut Street Theatre School asks me how to do theatre professionally, I tell them that there is no simple answer. My advice, go try to do as much as it as you can. Do different kinds of shows, professional, TYA, and community theatre alike. You will learn so much from the individuals around you. You will learn so much by being in the thick of it. And maybe… you know more than you think.
Amanda, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
I’m a theatre director, performer, and teaching artist based in Philadelphia, PA. I graduated from Pennsylvania State University and am currently the Associate Director of Education at Walnut Street Theatre. In this role, I primarily serve as the Director of the Walnut Street Theatre School, which offers classes for all ages and ability levels at America’s Oldest Theatre. Additionally, I am the Camp Director at the historic Camp Walnut.
I’ve directed productions for various companies, including Walnut Street Theatre, The Media Theater, Upper Darby Summer Stage, PCS Theater, and Ocean City Theatre Company. I’ve also worked with DeSales University, The College of New Jersey, and the University of Pennsylvania. My specialty is theatre for young audiences, and my production of The No Good Really Rotten Cheatasaurus Rex is currently touring elementary schools in the Greater Philadelphia region. Some of my recent notable productions include Newsies at Upper Darby Summer Stage, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella at DeSales University, and Young Frankenstein The Musical at PCS Theater.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
For me, the greatest reward for putting up a show is the way that theatre brings others together. Theatre is an activity in which all participants must choose to engage, from the actors to the audience. From day one, relationships and collaborations form in the rehearsal room and production meetings alike. There’s really nothing like a friendship born from a shared production process. I think many theatre people would agree with me. I have met some of my best friends through theatre, both on stage and behind the scenes. I owe everything to this craft, really.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
When I was finishing my apprenticeship at Walnut Street Theatre, I really did not know where life was going to take me. I was 23 years old and knew that I wanted my career to be rooted in the arts. However, as you can imagine, finding a full-time or even consistent gig in the arts right out of an entry-level apprenticeship in a regional theatre was almost impossible. I applied for 100 jobs in regional theatres, high schools, and even regular non-creative businesses in administrative roles. One day, on Playbill, I saw an ad that simply read, “Theatre Assistant for Broadway Producer.” It didn’t specify who the producer was or provide any details about the job duties—just the title and the salary. I was actually planning to move from New Jersey to upstate New York the next day, but I thought, hey, what the hell? Twelve hours later, as I was packing up my belongings for my big move, I received a call from an unknown number. It was an assistant for Scott Rudin, perhaps the most influential and decorated Broadway producer at that time. They wanted me to drop in for an interview. Since I was already heading in that direction, I scheduled my interview in Manhattan on my route to upstate New York.
The interview seemed straightforward; they mostly wanted to know if I had any experience rolling calls (which I did not), if I had any experience as a personal assistant (which I did not), and if I knew the ins and outs of Broadway (which I would say I did from an observational point of view). I arrived in upstate New York at my boyfriend’s townhouse and got the call while lugging my bags onto his front stoop. I got the gig and started at 10 a.m. the next day. That morning, I drove three hours back to NYC, booked an Airbnb, and began my job at Scott Rudin Productions as the Theatre Assistant.
As the Theatre Assistant, I had five coworkers who were also Scott Rudin’s personal assistants, each with specialized areas: Hot Seat, Calendar, Film, Personal Schedule, and one personal assistant for his protégé. The job seemed dreamy at first—our Ubers to and from work were covered by a business account, we were given a daily cash stipend for food, and we had access to a fully stocked snack pantry that could have fed an army. However, the job also came with its fair share of hard asks. Our hours were 6 a.m. to 8 p.m., Mondays through Fridays, with the possibility of being on call on weekends. My job primarily involved recording all the shows that Scott needed to see in town using a confusing document created by the assistants who worked there about nine assistants before me. But Scott Rudin liked things a very specific way. Document templates were not to be changed; he expected all in-office communication to go through a message machine that I can only describe as an artifact from before Y2K. Naturally, phones should not ring more than once. If a phone rang more than once, you could hear him scream about it from an adjacent room. Oh, and I forgot to mention that on my first day, I was told that most folks only last three days at Scott Rudin Productions. So, I went into this job with very little expectation for a lengthy career as a theatre assistant.
The days were long, and Scott was wildly intimidating. Drop a call? Pray you don’t get fired. Talk too loudly at your desk? Expect another assistant to take you aside and explain, “We don’t do that here.” Scott accidentally deletes a text, and you can’t figure out how to restore it? Well, don’t be shocked when the IT guy tells you that you’re basically history. Or, better yet, expect that phone to come flying toward your desk. That’s the kind of guy Scott was. His reputation on Broadway, rightfully earned, was as Broadway’s worst boss. Every day, we went to work in fear, just hoping it wasn’t the day we got fired.
The day I got fired was probably the most stressful day of my life. I had been updating my confusing show list document based on the guidelines handed to me but was constantly told by Scott that it was wrong. He insisted that his former assistant, a man who had worked at SRP the year before, used to organize his show list perfectly and that I was constantly messing it up. On this day, I managed to track down the former assistant and had him organize the show list for me. I thought to myself, I will just have this person do it once and then use his template to improve my tactics. I sent it to Scott, but it was still wrong. He replied, insisting that the man who held my job before me did a better job and that I should do better. Little did he know he was commenting on that very person’s work. Strike one for me.
Then, I had to call a car to pick him up from his haircut. The road in front of the barber was closed, so the car had to park one block over. He hated that he had to walk a block. Strike two. After the haircut debacle, he told me he didn’t want to speak to me for the rest of the day. It was a Saturday, and I was on call, so I thought, great—an opportunity to explore NYC since I had made my boss not want to speak to me. I plugged my phone in to charge and sat down at a café. Thirty minutes later, I checked my phone and saw several missed calls and texts: “Why aren’t you answering? Where the f*** are you?” Strike three. I called Scott back. I was essentially told how useless I was and that if I didn’t have a copy of a specific manuscript at his apartment in the next hour, I was done for. I sprinted down 45th Street and got to the office in time to complete the task. Plot twist: he then texted me, saying that in addition to the manuscript, he expected a printed copy of my confusing show list document with no errors by the next morning. I realized I was basically being set up for failure. Anyway, I took an Uber to his apartment and dropped the manuscript off underneath a painting—truly something out of a movie. Then, I headed back to the office to try, once more, to fix the show document with absolutely no additional guidance. I worked all night, printed it out, and headed back to my apartment for two hours of rest.
At 10 a.m. the next morning, I was back in the Uber on my way to his apartment with the printout. He called me again: “Where the f*** are you? You were supposed to be here hours ago.” I explained that I had stayed up all night, went home for a couple of hours of rest, and was on my way. He replied, telling me that if I cared about my job, I would still be at the office working on it. Then, he fired me.
To this day, I have mixed feelings about my time at Scott Rudin Productions. I was really only there for four weeks, but I felt special working there; I met many famous people and saw Broadway shows for free. But I lived in fear every day. I was losing my hair, losing sleep, and somewhat losing my mind. When everything was said and done, I learned to have a deeper appreciation for workplace collaboration. Show business can be such a nightmare sometimes, so I make an active effort every day to ensure that I am positively contributing to the industry. Overall, I don’t regret my time there because I know it fundamentally changed how I view professional theatre.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.amandapasquini.com
- Instagram: @mandapasquin
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/amanda-pasquini-415008204/
Image Credits
Emily Geddes
Wide Eyed Studios
Mark Garvin