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For a short time, Janice Schott ran the busiest kids and teens talent agency in Portland. Now, amid a chorus of complaints from unpaid models and their parents, T-N-T Talent Management appears ready to blow up. After bouncing around Portland's talent business for a decade, Schott, 35, set up T-N-T two years ago. T-N-T's business consisted primarily of booking talent for print advertising at such companies as Meier and Frank, Columbia Sportswear and Fred Meyer, although her models also did television and movie work. At first, T-N-T's business flourished. Schott was well-known around town and had a long list of contacts from her previous employer, ABC Kids-N-Teens. Now, however, a mushroom cloud hangs over T-N-T, amid charges that Schott kept money meant for her young models. For procuring talent, T-N-T received the industry standard commission of 20 percent of the model's fee plus another 20 percent booking fee from the customer. Print work for child models, who range in age from newborn to middle teens, typically pays between $30 and $70 per hour. Advertisers pay talent agencies within 30 days from invoice. Agents take their cuts and forward the balance to the models within two weeks. At least that's how it's supposed to happen. Unlike movie and television work, which are policed by unions, and modeling schools, which are overseen by the Department of Education, print modeling is unregulated--with predictable results. "It's a business that attracts a lot of sleazebags," says Chris Cusick, owner of Cusick's Talent. Too often, Cusick and others say, unscrupulous hype artists convince parents that their child is the next Macaulay Culkin. Pride and greed sometimes take the place of sound judgment. Had parents checked Schott's record before allowing her to handle their children's money, they would have found disturbing signs. In 1990, she was convicted of three counts of second-degree theft for shoplifting at Meier and Frank; on three other occasions, she was successfully sued in Multnomah County District Court for nonpayment of medical bills, credit cards and bank debt. That inability to pay bills continued, according to Schott's former associates and numerous models' parents interviewed by WW. Shelly Torrey, whose 3-year-old daughter was a client of Schott's, tells a typical tale, rattling off dates her daughter worked, some as much as seven months before payment arrived. Like many parents, Torrey was told that checks from advertisers had been stolen before reaching T-N-T. Only when Torrey's attorney wrote Schott a letter did the money finally come through. Most advertisers who use T-N-T were unaware that the agency had problems. All those contacted by WW said they paid T-N-T within 30 days of each shoot. Parents offer a variety of explanations for why Schott was able to string them along for months. Many considered Schott a friend. Others feared jeopardizing their children's careers. Few realized how widespread the problem was. "It's one-on-one," says Karen Hayes, whose 11-year-old daughter has been modeling for nearly eight years. "We don't deal with the advertisers, the people who pay. You rely totally on your agent, you don't even talk to other parents." As long as Schott owed models only a few hundred dollars each, her stolen-check mantra kept parents at bay. Things began to fall apart this spring when the stakes got higher. Lisa Sherman says T-N-T owes her family $7,500. After getting the stolen-check explanation from Schott, Sherman says she followed the paper trail and discovered that nine checks sent to her daughter by an advertiser had been delivered to Schott's apartment and cashed. Sherman began badgering Schott for payment. "We were such close friends, but I haven't heard squat from her," Sherman says. "As a parent, I feel stupid. Why didn't I know?" Sherman contacted Los Angeles media consultant Michael McGuire, whom Sherman met through her daughter's modeling work. Coincidentally, McGuire had known Schott for a decade. After talking to Schott's associates and several others connected to T-N-T, McGuire realized what was happening: Schott, he said, was running a pyramid scheme, effectively borrowing money from the kids without permission and only paying them when she got squeezed. To Damon Jones, an acting teacher who worked at T-N-T, a call from McGuire in May about unpaid monies confirmed the worst. After fielding numerous complaints from unhappy parents, Jones looked into Schott's claim that police were investigating stolen checks. He found no record that police had been contacted. Jones says he confronted Schott about payment problems in April and attempted to hold a meeting with parents and Schott's family to address the problem. Schott refused, and Jones soon left T-N-T to start his own agency. Schott declined to comment about the parents' charges. Christopher Wright, Schott's attorney, says his client "has never intentionally or deliberately withheld any payment from any talent." Wright ascribed complaints to disaffected former associates and parents who don't understand the modeling business. Neither the Better Business Bureau nor the attorney general's office has received complaints about T-N-T. That could soon change. After weeks of fruitless negotiations, Sherman says she is ready to contact police about Schott's conduct. "How could somebody do this to children?" Sherman asks. "You've got to be a sick puppy." |
