The, Sometimes, Life of a Choreographer

I haven't really spoken about my work as a choreographer since I left Pacific Northwest Ballet nearly 3 years ago. When I started freelancing, it took all of my effort to make the dancing part of my career happen, so choreography had to take a backseat for awhile. Beyond that, it is very difficult to find time and quality dancers to work with when you aren't staying in one place for an extended period of time.  I got some good news recently relating to my choreography and when a few friends heard about it, they exclaimed, "I didn't know that you choreographed." While a dancer with PNB, I took part in their annual Choreographer's Showcase, Next Step, that used to alternate between dancers from the company and top level students (Professional Divison, or PD's) in the school. This showcase offers any dancer in the company a platform to test out their voice beyond dancing without the pressure of creating for a serious production. When I first heard about the program, I never really considered partaking, as I didn't consider myself a choreographer. But as my first years with the company passed and I saw other dancers try their hand at creating dance works, I thought that I might give it a try to see if I had any talent. Little did I know that choreographing would become something that I am passionate about and excel at doing.

The first time that I ever had any thoughts on the art of choreographing was back in the year 2000 when I was attending the Houston Ballet summer intensive. My roommate, Joseph Morrissey, was taking part in the student choreography workshop that was presented at the end of the summer program. Sitting around our apartment, he would talk about listening to music and seeing steps in his head as music played. To be completely honest, I just didn't have the same reaction. I had never even thought about dance steps when listening to music. I don't quite remember the piece that Joe made, but I have memories of awe and the thought running through my head that I didn't have the mind of a choreographer. After that summer, I didn't consider choreographing until my 3rd season at PNB, nearly 6 1/2 years later.

Basic Disaster - Maria Chapman w/Josh Spell & Jordan Pacitti (Photo: Rex Tranter)

I don't really remember what inspired me to put my name on that lined piece of computer paper that Peter Boal posted on the dancer call board one morning. I remember walking past the list a few times without even giving it consideration. After a few more passes, I started thinking what could happen if I risked choreographing something. Would it suck? Would I embarrass myself? I never saw dance steps in my head while listening to music, so if that wasn't my natural response I surely couldn't choreograph. Then my typical big company complex started kicking in. What will my colleagues think? Will people think that my ego has grown to big? That, I think I'm an amazing choreographer just by placing my name on a piece of paper. I'm not really sure what the final tipping point was in me putting my name on the list, but I did it and I'm very glad that I did.

The process of creating my first work was very carefully thought out. I didn't want to create a work just for the sake of creating. When I started collecting ideas for the piece, I wanted to build something that inspired me. I have always been fascinated by weather and natural disasters. My nerdy fascination with The Weather Channel assured that I was moderately educated on the topic. Within a week of signing up for the showcase, I had already chosen my music, my theme, and my title. I used Australian didgeridoo music that I was inspired to find after listening to a man play this deep, vibrating instrument along my daily walk home through Pike Place Market. I was going to choreograph a three movement work that drew inspiration from earthquakes, floods, and hurricanes. And I would name the piece Basic Disaster. This was not only a nod to my theme, but an offer of some humor in the event that the piece bombed. I figured I had all of my bases covered and started creating movement on my colleagues. I enjoyed the process and while I didn't have enough time to create the entirety of the work (the showcase had to compete with our busy company schedules and had last priority), I was pleased with the work in progress I presented.

Pariah w/students from PNBS (Photo: Rex Tranter)

I ended up creating 4 works total during my time working in PNB's choreographer's showcase. We dancers/ choreographers were very lucky to have this platform. Not only were we given top-notch dancers, our works were put on PNB's regular stage. We were able to utilize the company's lighting designer and costumes were borrowed from the costume shop. Taking part in these productions taught me how to take control of a room of dancers, communicate my own unique movement style clearly, clean my works to performance quality, and budget my time to get the best product possible.

Following these workshops, I was selected to create works for Seattle's Men in Dance festival and the Philly Fringe Festival. Beyond those, I have choreographed works for a few schools, including the Alaska Dance Theatre school and local schools in the Philadelphia area. My final goal is to eventually gain my first full commission for a high-level ballet company.

So, what am I like as a choreographer? I spent 8 years dancing in the Corps de Ballet in two of America's biggest companies. Living that much of my life dancing in large groups really taught me a great deal about moving people around the stage in interesting ways. I've spent a great amount of time dancing Balanchine and contemporary works, as well. Due to my background in these works, many of my creations straddle the line between neo-classical ballet and contemporary dance. I prefer to find my inspiration from a topic or story when I begin creating a work. For instance, one of my last works at PNB was inspired by a few anxieties that I have experienced throughout my life, like being asthmatic. I find that I am especially curious about the exploration of the human psyche and why people respond emotionally to certain topics. I feel that choreographing is fascinating because it is essentially taking something inside my mind and showing people what is happening inside me in a visual way.

Creating my work, Pariah, on students of PNB's school (Photo: Rex Tranter)

As I stated at the beginning of this post, it has been awhile since I have had the opportunity to really focus on my choreography. I am proud to say that I was recently selected to choreograph for the National Choreographers Initiative that takes place at the Barclay Theatre at the University of California in Irvine. During my three weeks at the program, I get to create on dancers that I select out of 16 professionals that are hired for the initiative. I will be joined by three other up-and-coming choreographers, Philip Neal; former Principal with New York City Ballet, Garrett Smith; a dancer with Norwegian National Ballet, and Gabrielle Lamb; a former Soloist with Les Grands Ballet Canadiens. We will be joining the ranks of other choreographers that have passed through this prestigious program, like Val Caniparoli, Edwaard Liang, Amy Seiwert, Melissa Barak, Christopher d'Amboise, and many more.

Many people don't realize that most freelance dancers have many skills beyond just that of a dancer. Freelancers use their skills from choreographing to teaching to video editing and beyond to make a living and express themselves. At the conclusion of this summer, I hope to use this platform to really begin pushing to create works for companies around the globe. I would share my plans for my new work at the Initiative, but if you are really interested, you'll just have to buy some tickets and come to the show. I hope to see you there!

Me w/PNB school students in my cast for The Anxiety Variations

The importance of taking breaks

Driving towards downtown Los Angeles

The past year and a half has been quite challenging for me, adjusting from the structure of a big-time union company to the wildly changeable life of a freelance dancer. I began auditioning for companies while still working at PNB, often on weekends. I would finish my workweek, take a cab to the airport, fly across the country, audition, and then fly back to begin a new workweek (sometimes flying back early Monday morning and going straight to work). Following this extravaganza, I finished out my last season with the company, moved across the country, danced job after job after job, and taught master classes/subbed whenever possible. It was shocking to my system and I was very clearly running full speed ahead towards burnout. About six weeks ago, my partner made me take a day retreat to assess why I had started developing extreme stress and anxiety symptoms in even the most minor situations. My assessment: I hadn’t even realized that I had been dancing, working, teaching, and stressing about so many life changes for 18 months without taking more than a few days for myself. My plan? Take a month off from dance and dance work, teach minimally, travel somewhere that isn’t in the Philadelphia region, and dye my hair some fun color that I could never sport onstage.

Purple and Blue

Working full-time for a company has many great perks. Aside from rep, finances, touring, and benefits, you are also given structure. PNB had a great contract that provided forty weeks of work a year. This meant that we were laid off for 12 weeks every year. Of course, you could continue dancing during these weeks, but you were afforded the opportunity to take a break if you wanted or needed. As a freelancer, you aren’t governed by an official calendar. If work pops up, chances are you will take it. Freelancers, often living in constant fear of financial disaster, tend to book their schedules dancing with “this” company and teaching at “that” school and “that other” school. My summer included me dancing two gigs in Philadelphia that rehearsed on completely different sides of town and teaching at six different schools, some of which were more than an hour commute each way. On top of all of this, I was taking ballet class in the mornings, going to the gym daily, choreographing a solo that I performed in the Philly Fringe Festival, keeping up this blog, looking for new work, and so much more. I was literally running from place to place. As in, I would dash down the street running to get to my next job. I didn’t have time for anything. My bills were paid, but I wasn’t even aware until my retreat that I couldn’t keep it up much longer. I clearly needed a break.

One of the hardest things to figure out is exactly when one should be taking a break. There are two ways that you can figure this out. The first way is to look at your calendar and determine how long you can practically dance before giving your body a rest. Some dancers need time off after a couple months, while others can go up to six months. One thing that I am sure of is that no dancer can keep their body in peak physical condition 52 weeks a year. You can put time off into your calendar, blocking out one or a few weeks. Of course, these dates can be flexible in the event that a great opportunity presents itself. But you should really try to commit to this time off. The other way to determine when to take a break is impractical and dangerous. Many freelancers beat themselves into the ground until they burn out or become injured. I learned this lesson the hard way, but I figured things out just in time. The hard part was that I didn’t even realize that I was approaching burn out.

In my mind, I was convinced that I had absolutely no choice but to hustle around the city like a prostitute de ballet. At times, I didn’t have a choice. But once I got in the flow of that constant rush and panic, I couldn’t break the pattern. I was rushed and panicked about everything from making ends meet to food shopping. How can you tell if you are approaching burn out? There is no real answer to this question, as I feel that everybody handles stress and workload differently. For me, I first noticed it in my breath. My partner turned to me after I had reacted with unnecessary abrasiveness when he was trying to help me accomplish a task and said, “I haven’t seen you take a full breath in at least two weeks.” I was anxious about the simplest things. At times, I couldn’t even handle our cats meowing when we prepared to feed them, like they do every night. I had begun to lose my ability to cope with normal, everyday stressors. This was my first sign. The second sign that I was running myself into the ground was when I started to question whether I should continue in my profession. Anybody that knows me personally is well aware that I am quite the “bunhead.” I live for dance and try to immerse myself in the art as much as possible. So, it was odd when I started thinking about what my life would be like without dance in it. I knew that I was lying to myself, but I also couldn’t stop playing with the idea. It was almost as if I was teasing myself to take the bait. When burn out is approaching, it is almost like being addicted to a drug. You start ingesting unhealthy thoughts. Though you are quite aware that this kind of thinking is bad for you, you keep going back to that negative thinking. If one gets to this point, it is necessary to take some time off. Essentially, burn out can be a career-threatening injury.

When a dancer has determined that they need to take a break, how do they prepare to take time off? Obviously, the most ideal way is to create some type of savings. This way you can pay your bills and maybe even travel while you are giving your body and mind a rest. With scattered or sometimes low paying work, it can be difficult to create a savings. If you are unable to save enough money to take an extended break, I suggest finding some way to make money while avoiding dancing. Teaching is an option. But, if the plan is to stay away from dance altogether, teaching may not be the best option. If you need to continue bringing in income, perhaps, look for other work that isn’t dance related. Not only will this give your body a chance to recover, but it will hopefully give you time to miss dancing. I think it is important to miss dancing every once in awhile. It builds a greater appreciation for and want to dance. Doing other jobs also gives you a greater range of work experience that will benefit you when you retire from dancing. One could look for desk work at a dance/non-dance institution. If one is looking for short-term work, they could check out Craigslist or ask around. I know some friends that even mention that they are looking for short-term work on Facebook. No matter the avenue, just make sure that you feel comfortable with the situation and that you trust they will compensate as agreed upon prior to doing the job.

Corona Del Mar in Orange County, CA

The best way to take a break is to get out of your working environment for a bit. It was hard for me to stop working, even when I committed to taking some time away from the studio. Because I work from home when I’m not in the studio, it is impossible for me to 100% get my mind off work in my house. To achieve this, my partner and I traveled across the country to Los Angeles for a week. We had a bit of money saved up, but we didn’t have the funds to do a luxurious vacation. We decided that the best way to do this would be to visit my partner’s hometown. He has tons of family and friends in LA, so this seemed like a great option. We both have a credit card directly linked to an airline, so we were able to use a voucher to greatly reduce the price of flying. Essentially, we paid for one round-trip ticket and split the cost. Then, once we arrived in LA, we either stayed with friends or family. This cut the cost of hotels. The only expenses that we needed to afford were food and renting a car. My suggestion if you want to get out of your home-base is to find a location where you can stay with a friend or family and make it work. If that isn’t a possibility because you need to stay home to work, I would suggest, at least, taking a weekend get-away. Take a train/bus/drive to another town or city nearby. If you can afford one night at a hotel, go for it. If not, go on Groupon or Livingsocial and look for deals or adventures that will get you out of the house and offer a fun or new experience. Whatever you do, be sure that you are giving yourself a chance to enjoy yourself. Freelancing is stressful and requires time to decompress and get your mind off work. 

I began this blog en route to Los Angeles and am finishing the post a day after arriving back home. I didn’t touch it the entire week I was taking a break, even though I was tempted. Lynne Goldberg (link in my friends of freelancers column) is a life-coach for many great dancers in our community, including Edwaard Liang, Maria Kowrowski, and Kathryn Morgan. We were having a conversation a couple of months ago where she mentioned that repeated thoughts create wiring in the brain. Once you have created that wired connection, it is hard to break the pattern of thought. I really agree with this concept. I spent a large part of my vacation struggling with guilt that I was getting out of shape, falling behind in work, and losing valuable opportunities that I should be seeking. Even with these thoughts, I did not work. The emails and phone calls came in and I responded that I wouldn’t be available until the following week. I feel that the reason I struggled so much to relax was because I have wired my brain to be in a constant state of staying in shape, looking for work, and stress for the last 18 months. I still need to work on relaxing and taking time for myself, but this vacation was a good first step. I am positive that taking short breaks more often will help me find a healthier balance, physically and mentally. In this difficult career, not only do we have to enjoy our work, but we need to find time away so that we remain healthy and passionate about our artform.

Driving into the sunset (and palm trees) in Long Beach