Three cancelled pantos, two Zoom grottos and an industry on its knees: How seasonal workers are surviving a Covid Christmas

‘Tis the season to be jolly, unless you’re relying on closed businesses to get paid this month. Sophie Gallagher speaks to those waiting all year for December to boost their income

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In a normal December, actor Nicola Jane Barney would be performing 12 shows a week. The 26-year-old from Crouch End does a mix of pantomime, musicals, and carols; her favourite last year was The Grinch (another CV highlight was performing Miracle on 34th Street in Dubai). For the last five years she has had a steady flow of seasonal work - it is when she makes most money - but in 2020 she had just one audition and didn’t get the part.

Auditions for pantomime season normally begin in late summer, but when August rolled around and there were few casting calls, Barney realised it could be a quiet winter ahead. “That was rather a sad moment,” she tells The Independent. “It was a feeling of defeat and uselessness.” Since then she has been “barely making any money” (her other income is from children’s party planning but this has had to stop too) so she has turned her hand to web design, nannying, teaching classes, and even writing children’s books.

Most of her acting friends have moved home to live with their parents, are in part-time jobs or claiming benefits. “I’ve reached my limit now and I try to get through most days just being happy and content. It’s heartbreaking,” she says. “All I can do is take each week as it comes.” She doesn’t see the situation getting any better in the next six months. 

Unemployment rates in the UK are set to reach 2.6 million in the middle of 2021, according to the government’s own economic watchdog. That’s 7.5 per cent of the working population out of a job. Between August to October this year there were a record number of redundancies - 370,000 - and an unemployment rate of 4.9 per cent. The Bank of England has even said there is a small chance next year could see it rise as high as 10 per cent.

Although many industries have been impacted by the financial fallout of coronavirus, with millions relying on the furlough scheme to pay wages, some sectors have suffered more than most. Hospitality and the arts are some of those having faced long-term closures to their businesses during both lockdowns, and often expensive running costs. In June, industry leaders told MPs that half of all music venues and 70 per cent of theatres faced permanent closure. Workers protested outside the Southbank Centre and the National Theatre, against job losses.

Even when the second lockdown lifted, entertainment venues continued to struggle to generate enough revenue to make opening the doors worthwhile. Andrew Lloyd Webber said of plans for socially distanced performances: “[It] would be lucky to make their investment back on that show for two or three years. The margins are incredibly tight.” So it was somewhat inevitable that coming into the festive season - it is no secret that panto profits are used to subsidise other performances year round - the stakes would be higher than ever. 

Last year Aaron Spendelow from Bedfordshire lived a career highlight when he played an ugly sister in the Bridlington production of Cinderella alongside Grease legend Didi Conn. The 31-year-old “loves to entertain” and when he isn’t on stage he works in a Santa’s grotto. He started as an elf in 2019 but was promoted to Father Christmas when a colleague fell ill. He immersed himself in the role, buying a full costume with boots, belt, a wig and beard (he has also developed an authentic Santa Claus voice, which he shared with The Independent).  

This year though, both the grotto and theatre have both pulled down the shutters. Although grottos are not banned by law, they are not permitted to take place in certain venues under the tier system, making many impossible to do. As a result Spendelow has gone online, signing up to be a Zoom Father Christmas on Santa’s Grotto Live instead. He says there are benefits - for example, children get up to 30 minutes in the room instead of two to three in real life - but it hasn’t all been plain sailing.

“Usually Christmas is my busiest time but it is very different this year,” he says. “As a seasonal worker it is difficult because you’re relying on this season and with the tier system you don’t know if you’re coming or going…although I’m trying to adapt to more [positive] thinking.”  

We had a huge patch of work cancelled at the last minute which meant some of our singers had to forego hundreds of pounds of work with very little warning

It isn’t just the North Pole having to move online in order to generate some business in an otherwise empty Christmas diary. David Young, 29, is more accustomed to conducting his Reverie choir in London hotels than in a living room. The Savoy afternoon tea is a seasonal favourite or for the staff Christmas party at Claridges - “they have beef wellingtons on tap!” - but this year they’ve had to use video conferencing software to sing carols to smaller crowds.

In a regular Christmas period the choir would be fully booked up - sending several teams of singers around the capital and up to four simultaneously on Christmas Eve. But this year, it’s more low key. “We had a huge patch of work cancelled at the last minute which meant some of our singers had to forego hundreds of pounds of work with very little warning - at a time of year when they usually make a big percentage of their year’s worth of income,” he says.

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Young, whose favourite carols are In The Bleak Midwinter and John Rutter’s What Sweeter Music, says although he is grateful for the chance to make some money there are obvious downsides. “We aren’t able to build any kind of human connection with the people we’re performing to - seeing the faces of people you’re singing to.

“I’ve gradually come to accept that we are living in a world where a lot of my work is just not possible. I have to accept that this is what’s going on, but ultimately it’s taking a real toll on my mental health, in spite of being very grateful to do anything at all online.” 

I have to accept that this is what’s going on, but ultimately it’s taking a real toll on my mental health

For other workers in the seasonal sector, there was no alternative way to make money so they have had to look elsewhere for work until the industry can start up again. Callum Patrick Hughes, 30, from Crystal Palace, says his Christmas period is normally characterised entirely by its unrelenting nature - his Christmas tradition is racing back in the car to his parent’s house on 24 December from wherever his last show was. His back catalogue of work includes four Cinderellas, Aladdin and Sleeping Beauty, to mention a few. This year, the phone didn’t ring.

“It’s been a write off,” he says. “I didn’t think theatres would still be closed at Christmas like they are but it’s been impossible for [them] to function during this year.” Instead he has found work in his local food market and as an anti-oppression facilitator, to help workplaces with inclusion and diversity. Many former colleagues have also re-trained and are “battling” to find other forms of income to tide them over. He worries that many will have to pay a self-employed tax bill come 2021, without the financial packet normally provided by pantomime season.  

Although some workers are adapting to the times, it is clear the economic ripples of coronavirus will be felt for a while to come. The vaccine might be the health hope we have been holding out for, but the shot in the arm needed by the hospitality and entertainment industry to survive has been laid bare by the plight of seasonal workers. For those waiting all year to cash in, December 2020 has left wallets empty and livelihoods at risk.