Megan Kingery is a self-proclaimed #LadyProducer, a co-producer of of Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812 that put forward a thrilling, immersive piece of theater with the most diverse cast on Broadway. Not only is she a thoughtful, vocal advocate for bringing a variety of voices to the proverbial table, she also using her public platform to speak about her own experiences with depression and anxiety.
I spoke with Kingery about being a female producer in a male dominated field, The Great Comet and her mental health battles and victories.
How did you get involved in producing?
Like a lot of folks in theater, I started out as a performer. That was where the island of misfit toys was, and that’s where I wanted to be. I found that I preferred being involved with the creation of projects from the ground up.
I think for a lot of theater fans, we don’t know what a producer actually does. Could you unpack that role for us?
In general it means “making the things happen.” The specifics of what any one producer does can mean any number of different things. A co-producer on a Broadway show might mean assisting in the financing and supporting the lead producer. When I’m lead producer on my own projects it means I am producing an existing script that I found from a playwright or composer, or developing an idea from the ground up, or adapting a film, book, comic book, you name it. As a lead producer, I am finding the director, I am sourcing all of the financing and all of my co-producers. There is also the role of an executive producer, which means a client has a production, they are the ones with the fiduciary responsibility but they need a guide to produce the play. And all of these terms can mean completely different things in film, music, or television.
You are both relatively young and a female in an older, male dominated field. Right now about 8% percent of the Broadway League is under 40, and not many of that portion are women.
You make a point to call yourself a “Lady Producer”. Why is important to you to make that distinction?
It started a bit as a goof but the more I got deeply embedded in the Broadway community and saw how few women there were, the more it became important to me to really latch onto that title. What’s been wonderful is that the women I’ve interacted with in the Broadway space are really supportive of each other. I also self-identify that way because I want it to be a calling card to other women who feel as though this is an unattainable thing. “I’ve done it, you can also do it.”
It’s a beacon.
Exactly. There’s a feeling of systemic change being entirely out of reach, but it just means that more people need to join the ranks of the gatekeepers rather than trying to change the gatekeepers themselves.
What are the barriers to becoming working producers and artists for the individuals who are outside of that majority white, male, cis-gender group?
Bringing diversity to Broadway is a complex problem with a super simple solution, which is to hire more women and people of color. In order for that to happen, I believe we need more women and people of color as producers or anyone who hires talent, who are going to have different perspectives that are not necessarily coming from the very traditional “white lense”. And we’re starting to see that happen. One of my producing partners on The Great Comet was a couple, a white man and an African American woman. Most of our cast had just never seen a black woman at the producer’s table before, and it meant a lot.
Can you talk about the beautiful diversity of The Great Comet cast?
I loved seeing Denee Benton in the role of Natasha because she is a superstar. She’s an incredible performer, she lit up the stage. I would see the messages to her on social media and the letters that she would get backstage about how much seeing a woman of color in that role meant to people. The incredible nature of the show just accommodated people having different shapes and backgrounds. That was a very exciting world to live in for a while.