Just get back to people, okay?!

I applied for a job recently. The employer was looking for a composer with experience of creating large-scale, ambitious and site-specific community projects. It sounded so far up my street that three separate people sent me the link to it. I played the game. I called the organisers to ask for more information and ascertained that there wasn't a specific brief: they were just looking for interesting proposals. I spent a lot of time working up an idea which I was really excited about. I submitted it and got the "thank you for your interest in this post, we'll be in touch" email... and have heard nothing since. Zip. Zilch. No interview. No "Dear Mr Benjamin, we've decided on this occasion not to meet you, but good luck in your chosen career." No "the standard of applications was very high, but we'll keep you on our files for future opportunities" (which I've subsequently learned means we'll add you to our mailing list and inundate you with unwanted emails about arts projects which you haven't been invited to pitch for...)

So here's the thing: if you're an employer and you have a vacancy, it is hugely rude to expect people to jump through all the hoops that applying for your post requires them to do if you're not prepared to contact them to tell them that you're not taking things further. I don't know how it works in other employment sectors but it happens all the time in the arts. I once applied to work as a teacher. The application form was so involved, that it took me two days to fill in. After not hearing from them for two months, I contacted the bursar whose name was on the form and asked when I was likely to hear anything. Her tone was dismissive: "if you've not heard anything from us you have to assume you've not been successful. Lots of people applied. We can't be expected to get back to everyone." Common decency surely dictates that you should. I didn't have time to reply to close to a thousand messages of good will from strangers I received after my wedding, but I sure as hell replied to them. Nathan doesn't have the time to reply to all the people who contact him asking him questions about his knitting patterns, but he does. Top producer Danielle Tarento says she has a policy of responding to absolutely everyone who writes to her, and she's the busiest producer I know.

Over the past year, during some really bleak times, I have applied to close to fifty jobs on the Arts Council website. I only heard back from four. And I'm a BAFTA nominee!

If you're lucky enough to be an employer in the arts, please take heed. Creative people will often throw their hearts and souls into their work in a way that very few other people seem to be able to comprehend. There's often an almost pathetic lack of distinction between the work we do and the way we perceive ourselves. If, as an employer, you're not even prepared to respond to someone who has invested time and emotion trying to pitch something to you, regardless of the reason, you're sending out a very clear message that the person's idea (and his or her career to date) is so insignificant that it's not worthy of comment. And this can be brutally damaging. If you're in arts admin, the bottom line is that you're making money out of creative people, so there's a double responsibility to treat us with respect.

All creative people have those moments which stick with us for ever, where someone's throw-away remark destroyed our confidence. Whilst at university, a very close friend came to watch me rehearsing a production of Dangerous Liaisons. After the rehearsal she said "you're literally the most awful actor I've ever seen. Stick to directing." I was so mortified that I immediately pulled out of the production and haven't acted since. Fiona told me the other day that she'd been practising an almost impossible Tchaikovsky cadenza in her house in Kentish Town one day, with he window open, and someone passing in the street had shouted "you can't play it!" The fact that she's remembered this for the best part of twenty years is indicative of how fragile our egos are.

I'm not doing a "poor luvvies" rant here. You need a very thick skin to work in the arts, and over the years, those of us who are still working professionals have developed incredibly thick skins and coping mechanisms. But I'm writing this because I think it's something we can all think about in the future, whatever line of work we're in. If you're the person who gets back to everyone who looks like they've spent time in contacting you: Thank you. If you're reading this and feeling perhaps you could do better in this respect, maybe think about how you could implement a different policy. If you're reading this and thinking "I completely know how that feels", then you have my deepest sympathy. It's horrible. If you're an artist, please dust yourself off every time some passing dick tells you you can't play, make, create, write or act, however they tell you, whether it's vindictive or subconscious. Art is subjective. I've even heard there are people out there who don't like ABBA. The world needs you to keep on doing what you're doing. So please, keep going.