Freelancing is rarely forever

Maybe I am an alien???

I've said it once and I'll say it a million more times. Freelancing is a very difficult career. I've spent the last two and a half years calling Philadelphia my home, but living with host families and in hotels across the country. I have spent more nights sleeping in guest bedrooms than I have my own. In fact, this past week I turned to my partner and told him, "I'm an alien." OK, so maybe that is a really odd/awkward statement to make. But for anybody that knows me and the way my brain works, it makes total sense. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. When I'm home, nothing seems familiar and when I am away everything is foreign. With all of this said, I was given some wise advice from the father of one of my colleague's early on in my career at PNB. "If you want to accomplish something, you need to put it in writing." So, this has been brewing for a long while now, but it has taken time to hone in on the issue and its' solution. I'm ready to put this one in writing. And with all my efforts to keep the integrity of this blog an open and honest journal and tool into freelance work and living in the dance world, I'd rather share the true experience of a freelance dancer than the glorified, overcoming adversity tale that we, as a society, are trained to enjoy and reward. I need to greatly slow down my freelancing. There. I said it. ::breathes out::

I didn't choose freelancing. I could've chosen not to freelance. There is this saying that "you don't choose ballet, it chooses you." I don't remember who said it first. But however cliche it sounds, it is true. Ballet and technical dance in general are not kind arts. As a child, you are put into this art form because parents think it is cute, good exercise, and fun. This is one of the greatest facades I have ever known. Ballet is grueling, torturous hard work that is generally unforgiving, aesthetically-elitist, and selfish. Those that are lucky enough to enter the professional ballet world learn very quickly if they were chosen by it. I've seen many magnificently talented dancers quit during their first few years with a company due to injury, poor coping skills, burnout, or unhappiness with casting. These people weren't the chosen ones. Those that are chosen will suffer through less than ideal circumstances for three reasons; to defeat adversity, to savor those rare moments when ballet does give back, and because they need to dance. When I suffered my injury nearly two years ago and was unfairly let go from my company job, there was no question that I needed to dance. It was only a matter of how. At the time, my only option was freelancing.

This costume wasn't a highlight of my freelancing career

While ballet can be challenging, freelancing (on it's own) can be equally unforgiving. Put the two together and, at times, this avenue to dance can be wearing. While I have had some lovely experiences freelancing, I have also seen a darker side of our art. The term starving artist must have been borne alongside the term freelance artist. While I have been lucky enough to sustain myself over the past 2 1/2 years on dancing and teaching, most freelance dancers I know survive on hours of work doing non-dance jobs. This takes away from time they could be investing in the studio and it takes away from their energy levels to perform well. My savings account has dwindled well below my comfort zone. And I am beginning to feel the pressure of this lifestyle; keeping myself in shape and motivated, never-ending work searches, neglecting body maintenance, and monetary distress. Conditions, non-professional work, salary, self-negotiating, inconsistent work, and more make the emotional challenges of freelancing overwhelming at a certain point. These things are most likely the reasons that most of my high-level freelancing friends take big breaks from the lifestyle, as well. I do think my time for an extended break has come.

With all of this negative, also comes the positive. I have never felt freer artistically since I started traveling on my own. The good jobs that I get are usually quite professional, where those in charge understand the professionalism that goes along with my credentials. These lead to trusting relationships, where I have been able to have more say in my product. I have seen parts of the world I wouldn't have seen otherwise. And for every 5 to 10 jobs that pay poorly, there is usually 1 or 2 that make you feel like a celebrity. But all in all, it is the people that you meet along the way that make it worthwhile. And the privilege to see that there are amazing dance artists everywhere has been eye-opening; in every company and in every project that I have been a part of. Lastly, it is really gratifying to know that I can make a dance career happen on my own. No company, agent, or individual to take credit, except myself.

So, I guess the big question is what is next? Well, the big plan was this. I was very inspired by the audition process for Chris Wheeldon's American in Paris. I would love to explore the world of musical theatre and Broadway, as I feel that joining that world would be coming full circle with my training. When I was a teenager, Riz-Biz Productions founder and former A Chorus Line dancer, Bob Rizzo, took me under his wing.  Everybody and their mother told me to stop dreaming about ballet and go into musical theatre. They told me this because I was known for my personality onstage and clearly behind in my ballet technique. The only issue with this is that I didn't have proper vocal training and I had fallen in love with ballet. So, included in my plan is a period of vocal training and, maybe even, some acting lessons.

This was my original plan. Im in khakis on the right. West Side Story Suite by Jerome Robbins (Photo: Angela Sterling)

This was the plan until I went down to Los Angeles to dance with Barak Ballet. I've been pulled into conversations a lot lately about my ballet career. If I start to focus on Broadway, does that mean that it could be the beginning of the end of my ballet career? Not necessarily. But when three established people in the dance world; a respected dance critic, a former Balanchine ballerina and Balanchine Trust repetiteur, and well-respected teacher, pull you aside during the same week and tell you that you need to go back into a ballet company, you can't help but think that the universe is trying to tell you something. And even worse, or better, it was echoing a little voice that has been screaming for attention in the back of my head for quite a while now. I miss dancing for a ballet company. I miss being in constant preparation for a production. I miss coming to company class everyday with my colleagues and a live pianist. I miss a regular community. I miss having a live orchestra. I miss a lot of that life.

So what happens with my freelancing? Well, until I figure all of this out, I will continue freelancing. My plan is to start slowing my traveling down over the first six months of the new year. I'm currently searching for teaching work to reestablish my savings account. Eventually, I hope to only take work that I really, really, really want to do. As this happens, I plan on beginning work for both of my plans. I will work towards both to see which seems like a more viable option. My end goal is to either join a ballet company or be auditioning for shows in New York City by September.

My end goal

Does this mean that this is the end of Life of a Freelance Dancer? Absolutely not! One thing I do know, it was a difficult challenge to learn how to freelance. And now that I know the ropes of this segment of the dance world, it will always be a part of my career. I never said that I was going to stop freelancing. I just desperately need to find home, stability, and lower my stress level. Even if I have periods where I am not freelancing or do join a company again, I will continue to write about my experiences and educate future freelancers on the intricacies of this world. And the best thing about a blog like this is that it is not confined to one area of our community. Anybody can be a freelancer at any point, whether they are in a company, doing a long term gig, or freelancing full-time. Thank you to all of my readers for your continued support. I look forward to many years of advice, enlightenment, and experiences. And thank you for letting me share my true, honest experiences with all of you!

The overwhelming feeling that I ALWAYS need to be in shape.

A typical view driving around Los Angeles

Well isn't this the story of my life. When I worked with Pacific Northwest Ballet, we had a 40-week contract. Essentially, we were handed a schedule of our upcoming year which dictated when we would work, rest, and gear up to get back in shape after resting. One area of my freelancing life that I have yet to get a handle on is how and when to take a break. I find that I have an overwhelming sense of anxiety about taking breaks and getting out of shape because I never know when work is going to appear out of thin air. Well, I finally decided to take a vacation with my partner to his hometown of Los Angeles for a week from July 3-10. I told my anxiety to take a break and let my body take one, too. Of course, the second I let my guard down, an old friend of mine sends me a text message a day before I return home from vacation. "Did you see there is an American in Paris audition in NYC 7/15?" My stomach started to sink, my legs began to shake (maybe this is an exaggeration), and my anxiety rose to the surface as reality started to set in. I had one week to get back in tip-top shape.

One of the most challenging aspects of freelancing is deciding when to take a break. I wrote a blog awhile back about the importance of taking breaks. A majority of the discussion was focused on why we take breaks and how to take them properly. One thing I didn't really touch upon was the anxiety that many dancers feel about getting out of shape. From a very young age, young hopeful children begin feeling the pressure of improvement. At a certain point in most dancer's training, they feel like they can't even rest a day in their training or they will start to fall behind everybody else. Even though I have already had a substantial career, I still fear that if I slow down for a moment I will fall behind everyone, as I did when I was a student. Putting that in writing, it doesn't even really make any sense. Who do I have to fall behind at this point? Myself. This thought of falling behind as a student translates into, "if I am not constantly training, working, rehearsing, etc., I am going to lose everything that I have worked for," as a professional.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about having a dance career versus a normal career. In most non-dance careers, you know that as you get older you will always have the knowledge that you've gained, even if your mind isn't as sharp, you sustain an injury, or you level out. Unfortunately, as a professional dancer, you know that at a certain point, while having the knowledge of all of your hard work, you will lose nearly everything you have worked for physically. Another friend of mine who recently retired from the professional ballet life was telling me that after a year of not dancing en pointe, while her body still knows how to do it, it doesn't have the strength to do it anymore. At her young age, she can, of course, work to get that strength back if she wishes. But in just under a year, one can lose 20 years of strength building. This is the best example of why we dancers fear taking a break so much.

My partner (R) and me (L) at the pier in Santa Monica

When I finished my season back in the middle of May, I didn't have a definitive day that I would be returning to any workplace to dance. With this in mind and no contracts signed, I knew that I couldn't just stop dancing for the summer. So, up until July 3, I have been taking regular classes every week and playing around with choreography in the studio on top of teaching. I wasn't in top notch shape, but if I needed to, I felt that I could gear it up and be close within a week or so. I did know that at some point during the summer, I just needed to enjoy the life of a normal human being. When I bought my plane ticket to L.A. I knew that this was that time. I told myself, "if something comes along, you will deal with it the best you can. You are not a robot and you deserve to lay on the beach, eat and drink whatever you want, and sleep in until whatever hour you wish." Unfortunately, and fortunately, life decided to miss my vacation memo and a very big opportunity was thrust in my face.

The view for my jog in Long Beach

As soon as I found out about this audition for a 6-week workshop to create the musical, "An American in Paris," choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon was taking place, I knew that I had no choice but to stop vacationing and desperately try to return to a somewhat functional level of dancing. After gaining acceptance to the audition, on the last day of my vacation, I began getting in shape. I did my ab series, gave myself a barre in the dining room of our friends condo, and jogged/walked 3 miles along Long Beach. I flew the next day and began an intense, but smart, 5-day period of getting back into shape.

While I definitely feel caught off guard in this moment, I am going into this audition hopeful and knowing that not only have I done everything that I can for this moment, but also everything I can for my dance career and being. Yes, one of my biggest fears as a freelancer has come to fruition. But at the same time, if I don't attempt to take breaks, my body and mind will probably not continue to love dance the way it does. So, as my Bolt bus is currently driving through the Lincoln Tunnel, I must bring this post to a close. But what it really comes down to is that dancers must take time off. Freelancers don't have the luxury of a regular stream-lined schedule. They need to always be in shape. And although that is not possible, they need to be prepared to not always be prepared as perfectly as they may wish. Although I am very hopeful and excited about tomorrow's audition, no matter the turn out, I will leave knowing that I did the best that I could. And not just for this one audition, but as a freelance dancer trying to exist in this sometimes spontaneous world.

(UPDATE: Although I wrote this on my way into the city, I am now editing it on my way out of the city. I won't say much, but the audition went very well. I was even asked to sing, my first time ever singing for an audition. :-)