A Day in the Life...of the Executive Director

 

A Day in the Life… of the Executive Director

From spreadsheets to stage lights: the daily work behind the magic of live theater.

People sometimes ask what the Executive Director of a community theater actually does all day. I can only speak for Hamilton Players, but the short answer is: a little bit of everything. The longer answer? Well… imagine opening the theater in the morning before anyone else arrives. The stage is quiet, the lights are off, and the day’s to-do list is already longer than you’d like. Hamilton Players is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit community theater, and while we are largely volunteer-run (and incredibly grateful for those volunteers), a small staff helps keep the day-to-day operations moving. One of those roles is the Executive Director.

On paper, the position is full-time. In practice, it usually lands somewhere between 55 and 70 hours a week, depending on what’s happening in the theater at the time. On any given day, the Executive Director might be acting as artistic director, grant writer, development director, education coordinator, facility manager, marketing assistant, and occasionally the HR and IT departments. Some days involve budgets and spreadsheets. Other days involve painting sets, building props, or troubleshooting a sound system five minutes before rehearsal begins. In other words, no two days ever look exactly the same.

While I’ve left out a few minor details (yes, I did answer the phone a couple of times, and yes, I did take a bathroom break), the chart below shows the general breakdown of two consecutive workdays in 15-minute increments. Spoiler alert: there are very few quiet moments.

Time	Task Day 1	Task Day 2
9:15 AM	-	Print & review info for donor  meeting
9:30 AM	-	Print & review info for donor  meeting
10:00 AM	Arrive at Playhouse, unlock door, turn on lights	Donor meeting over coffee
10:15 AM	Sanitize & clean public spaces	Donor meeting over coffee
10:30 AM	Check and reply to emails	Donor meeting over coffee
10:45 AM	Check “to do” list and arrange priorities	Donor meeting over coffee
11:00 AM	Graphic design – social media marketing	Donor meeting over coffee
11:15 AM	Graphic design – social media marketing	Arrive at Playhouse, unlock door, turn on lights, bring in packages
11:30 AM	Social media marketing tasks	Make notes on action items from donor meeting.
11:45 AM	Email newsletter	Open delivered packages.
12:00 PM	Email newsletter	Sanitize & clean public spaces
12:15 PM	Email newsletter	Check and reply to emails
12:30 PM	Refine & upload new newsletter subscriptions	Check “to do” list and arrange priorities
12:45 PM	Check and reply to emails	Graphic design – social media marketing
1:00 PM	Reply to donation requests	Graphic design – social media marketing
1:15 PM	Update Tix.com with new events	Social media marketing tasks
1:30 PM	Update Tix.com with new events	Blog research
1:45 PM	Update Tix.com with new events	Graphic design – social media marketing
2:00 PM	Eat lunch at desk, online grant research	Blog research
2:15 PM	Online grant research	Write blog post
2:30 PM	Online grant research & design	Check online reviews & respond      to new ones.
2:45 PM	Prepare grant budgets	Check and reply to emails
3:00 PM	Prepare grant budgets	Work on blog post
3:15 PM	Prepare grant narrative	Edit & refine grant narratives
3:30 PM	Prepare grant narrative	Edit & refine grant narratives
3:45 PM	Research arts education outcomes for grant	Design new program assessment  tools & metrics
4:00 PM	Research arts education outcomes for grant	Design new program assessment  tools & metrics
4:15 PM	Check and reply to emails/cover box office	Eat lunch at desk; Check and      reply  to emails
4:30 PM	Check and reply to emails/cover box office	Design and create newspaper ad      for upcoming show
4:45 PM	Create show program/cover box office	Design and create newspaper ad      for upcoming show
5:00 PM	Create show program/cover box office	Design and create newspaper ad      for upcoming show
5:15 PM	Create show program/cover box office	Meet with upcoming director
5:30 PM	Create show program/cover box office	Meet with upcoming director
5:45 PM	Generate sponsor invoice	Meet with upcoming director           &  tech consultant
6:00 PM	Generate and assess financial report for quarterly donor update	Meet with tech consultant
6:15 PM	Prepare quarterly donor update	Write up meeting notes, set        follow up dates
6:30 PM	Sprinkle deicer outside, turn on all lights, check bathrooms for TP and paper towels to prepare for evening rehearsals	Sprinkle deicer outside, turn on       all lights, check bathrooms for        TP and paper towels to prepare       for evening rehearsals
6:45 PM	Prepare quarterly donor update	Consolidate notes about director       & tech meeting
7:00 PM	Print and sign quarterly donor updates	Work on show program
7:15 PM	Snack at desk. Check on licensing statuses	Work on show program
7:30 PM	Assess new release titles, order perusals. Check and reply to emails	Work on show program
7:45 PM	Bookkeeping and QuickBooks	Work on show program
8:00 PM	Bookkeeping and QuickBooks	Work on show program.
8:15 PM	Bookkeeping and QuickBooks	Snack at desk. Check and reply        to emails
8:30 PM	Bookkeeping and QuickBooks	Shut down office, touch base with director and Stage manager        before leaving. Go home.
8:45 PM	Bookkeeping and QuickBooks	-
9:00 PM	Shut down office, touch base with director and Stage manager before leaving. Go home.	-

Some days involve running errands around town. Other days require working around appointments. Some are 9-5; some are…not. But most days are simply a steady mix of tasks, constantly shifting to keep the most important priorities moving forward. And the schedule above only captures part of the picture.

A typical week might also include teaching youth programs, designing curriculum, writing press releases, completing grant reports, ordering supplies for upcoming productions, maintaining costumes, planning events, paying bills, running the box office, giving public presentations, and meeting with directors, board members, donors, volunteers, and patrons. There’s also the occasional bathroom cleaning, snow shoveling, and sidewalk sweeping. #MontanaTheaterLife.

Like most nonprofit leaders, I’ve learned that the to-do list never really ends. The key is reassessing priorities every day, delegating when possible, and remembering to leave space for the parts of the job that make it all worthwhile. Because the truth is, no two days at Hamilton Playhouse are ever quite the same. One minute I’m writing a grant report. The next I’m hunting for a missing prop teacup, answering a patron email, and trying to figure out why the printer isn’t working. It can be chaotic, exhausting, and occasionally a little ridiculous. But at the end of it all, the lights come up, the curtain opens, and our community gathers together. And somehow, that magic of live theater makes every spreadsheet, snow shovel, and last-minute prop emergency completely worth it.

"Why don't you just do Hamilton?" A Look at Why You Don't See Some Shows at Community Theaters

“Why don’t you do Hamilton? It’s a perfect fit. Hamilton Players doing Hamilton!”
I have lost count of how many times I’ve heard that suggestion. Along with:
“Why not Wicked?”
“Or Phantom of the Opera?”
“What about Les Misérables?”
Trust me when I say: I would love to produce those shows. Many of them sit at the very top of my personal dream list. But the simple truth is this: it isn’t legal for us to do them.

In an earlier blog post, I talked about licensing and royalties. What I may not have made entirely clear is that not every show is available for licensing, especially to community theatres. Just because a musical exists does not mean any theatre company can produce it. Many major titles, including Hamilton and Wicked, are restricted to a limited number of professional producing companies. When those companies license a show, they often receive exclusive performance rights, meaning no other organization within a certain geographic radius, and often within a specific timeframe, may produce it. It is also entirely up to the creators and rights holders to decide when, or if, a show becomes available to amateur or community theatres. Some productions remain restricted far longer than people expect. Wicked, for example, premiered on Broadway more than two decades ago and is still not available for nonprofessional licensing.

In general, large-scale musicals do not become available to community theatres until Broadway runs and professional touring productions have concluded. As long as national or international tours are active, exclusivity remains part of the business model. Other shows come with highly specific limitations. The full version of Les Misérables, for instance, is frequently restricted while professional tours are operating. A school edition exists, but it comes with strict requirements: performers must typically be under 18, venues must seat fewer than 500 patrons, and productions are limited to a small number of performances. In some cases, school editions are available only to accredited educational institutions or full-time performing arts programs.

To be frank, many of these restrictions can feel puzzling from the perspective of a small, rural community theatre. It’s hard to imagine that a production mounted in rural Montana would affect ticket sales for a Broadway tour or impact an international brand. But I also understand why these rules exist. Professional companies pay significant sums for exclusive rights. They do not have the time or resources to evaluate every small-venue request individually, and exclusivity means exactly that: exclusive. Even if we believe our production would pose no competition, the organization that purchased those rights is protecting a substantial financial investment, and they have every right to do so. There is also a practical reality: audiences do not always read the fine print. While it may seem unlikely, people sometimes confuse productions with one another, and that confusion can have real consequences.

We experienced this firsthand in 2016, when people across the country mistakenly confused Hamilton Players with Hamilton the Broadway musical. Following a widely publicized curtain speech during a Broadway performance, our small community theatre, which had absolutely no connection to the production, received waves of negative messages and criticism online. Despite how easy it was to verify the facts, many people simply assumed we were involved. That experience made something very clear: brand confusion is real, and exclusivity helps prevent it.

So, while I would love nothing more than to see titles like Hamilton, Wicked, or Les Misérables on our stage, producing theatre also means respecting the legal and professional systems that protect artists, producers, and audiences alike. Until those shows become available, we’ll continue doing what community theatre does best: telling meaningful stories, creating opportunities for local artists, and bringing live performance to our community …one licensed show at a time.

Where did Everyone Go?

 A Conversation About Auditions, Availability, and Showing Up

 Lately, we’ve been running into a challenge that is becoming more and more common in community theatre: we simply don’t have enough people auditioning to fully cast our shows. There was a time when this issue felt predictable. If a show had more than five strong male roles, it was considered high-risk. We all knew it. Directors braced for it. Season planning quietly accounted for it. But something has shifted. Now, it’s not just male-heavy shows that are difficult to cast. Increasingly, we are struggling to fill roles across the board. Men, women, supporting characters, ensemble - it’s no longer isolated to one group. And here’s the most surprising part:  It’s not that people aren’t interested. It’s that they’re not coming to auditions.

 “Let me know if you need anyone…”

A growing trend we’ve noticed is this: after auditions are over, directors receive messages from community members saying something along the lines of: “I’m available if you still need people.” And on the surface, that sounds helpful. Generous, even. But it raises an honest question: If you’re available and interested…why not come to auditions?

Auditions are not just a formality. They are the foundation of the entire production process. They are where directors begin to build a cast, shape a vision, and understand who is in the room and what is possible. When people skip that step and offer themselves later, it creates a ripple effect: 1) Directors are left making incomplete decisions. 2) Those who did audition are not being evaluated on equal footing. 3) Casting becomes reactive instead of intentional. It puts everyone in a difficult position.

The Shift We’re Seeing

There has always been a small version of this behavior - particularly with male performers in smaller communities. Because there were often fewer men auditioning, it wasn’t unusual for someone to wait and be asked. But what used to be the exception is starting to feel like the norm. Unless it’s a highly competitive lead role, like Eliza Doolittle, Roxie Hart, or Mary Poppins, we are seeing more actors opt out of the audition process entirely and wait to be invited in. And that changes the culture of the room.  Auditions stop being a shared experience. They become something optional. Something negotiable.

 Why Does This Matter?

Community theatre works because of participation. Not perfection. Not résumés. Not experience. Participation. When fewer people show up to audition: Directors have fewer creative options, Shows may need to be redesigned or scaled back, the rehearsal process becomes more difficult, opportunities for new performers shrink, and perhaps most importantly, it places a heavier burden on the same small group of people who consistently show up.

 Auditions Are an Act of Respect

Showing up to auditions isn’t just about “trying out.” It’s about being part of a collaborative process. It says: I respect the director’s time and vision . I am willing to be considered fairly alongside others. I am part of this community, not just a last-minute solution.

Even if you’re nervous.
Even if you’re unsure.
Even if you think, “They probably don’t need me.” 

A Gentle Invitation

If you’ve ever thought: “They’ll call me if they need me,”  “I’m probably not right for anything anyway,”  “I’ll just wait and see how casting shakes out”  …This is your sign to come to auditions! Come read. Come sing. Come introduce yourself. Come be part of the room. Because the truth is, we don’t just need people who are available. We need people who are present.

 Final Thoughts

Community theatre is built in rooms full of people who show up—sometimes confidently, sometimes nervously, sometimes completely unsure of what will happen next. But they show up anyway. And that simple act is what keeps the curtain rising. It’s the same thing we ask of our audiences: show up, be present, and be part of something that only exists in that moment. And if we expect that from them, we must expect it from ourselves—to show up, to commit, and to do the work that makes their presence worthwhile.