Summer Hiatus Update

Greetings to all of you, my beloved readers! I hope that you have been enjoying an incredible summer full of hard work, rest, relaxation, and preparation for a fantastic 2017-2018 season. It has been very odd for me to take so much time off from writing these past few months. But it was absolutely necessary for me to take a few things off of my plate to make space for my extremely challenging schedule. July was quite murderous for me with daily commutes stretching as long as 9 hours (thanks to summer traffic heading into NYC), weekly teaching schedules including 12+ classes, weekly podcasts, and preparations for our move to NYC. I'm aware that I have been running a very fine line between setting up my work life for our move and burning out on my tedious travel schedule. In good news, I feel like I have finally gotten over the hump of summer insanity, so I want to offer you a very brief update before I go back into blog-hiding again for a little bit.

First and most exciting, my Danya and I have officially given our 60 days notice that we will not be renewing our lease in Philadelphia. After 19 months of super-commuting to see if transitioning my career to New York City would be a good fit, it became so overwhelmingly clear that we are 100% sure that this is the right thing to do. I have spent most of the summer teaching regularly at Steps on Broadway and Broadway Dance Center, but have also spent a lot of time teaching my kids up at Greenwich Ballet Academy in Connecticut and Port Chester, New York. I have also begun developing the 2nd year of what I hope to be a 4-year contemporary dance training syllabus for pre-professional ballet dancers. Beyond this, I have gained employment one evening a week with another school in New Jersey this coming fall. While I still have room for additional choreography, teaching, speaking, consulting, and private lessons, I will have my first set of stable work and income since I began freelancing back in 2011. I bet you can hear the great sigh of relief that I just let out having put this down in writing to share with you.

The second piece of news I have could be seen as good or bad news, depending on how you view it. Part of the reason I needed to take a break from writing on LoFD was because I had severe writer's block that I had never experienced in the 5 years of continuously developing content for all of you to read here. I couldn't figure out why I didn't want to write, aside from assuming it was a symptom of my overwhelming travel and work schedule. When I finally gave myself permission to take some time away from here, my initial reaction was that I was done with blogging. But as I continued to rest my mind and repair my thought process, I came to realize that I am having such difficulty coming up with new material because I have evolved into a new stage of my career. While I will always have the heart of a freelancer and likely continue to work as a freelance dance educator, choreographer, speaker, and who knows what new additions I will add, I have not had any new experiences as a performing freelance artist in quite some time. Most of what I've written on here in the past two years has involved recollections and memories I had during my tenure traveling the country from company to company. This combined with the fact that blocking online bots from spamming my blog also stopped major search engines from offering my writing to the general public (I went from 250-1000 daily views to 20-50). I couldn't figure out why I should continue writing on here, especially with the tedious process of starting from scratch to regain the former visibility my blog had retained. Having some time to think, I realized that I still love to write and want to continue sharing valuable information and intriguing personal and second-hand experiences of dance artists publicly.

Taking all of this into consideration, I determined that if I was going to start over building my blog's audience, I was going to do it in a way that is now relevant to the career-style that I am living and breathing. For this reason, I have decided that I am going to stop writing for LoFD, archive all of my valuable posts for readers here and in the form of an E-Book, and launch a new blog this fall about the life of dance educator, coach, choreographer, speaker, and whatever else comes my way. I am hoping to cover all relevant topics for the stage of a dance career that happens once a performing artist takes their final curtain call. I am not quite sure the title of this venture or when it will launch. But it will likely happen soon thereafter my husband and I transition our lives 90 miles north to New York City. So, be sure to stay tuned on here for a major announcement that will likely happen somewhere during the time period of October or November.

Lastly, I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for being so understanding as I figure out what is happening in my life and how I can continue to provide the best content for my family, friends, colleagues, and readers. I hope you will continue to join me on this fascinating journey that has been my dance career.

(And, if you want to catch up on any of my former posts, click here for a general archive of content)

I'm a Modern Day Gypsy

Typical moment in the life of a Modern Day Gypsy

Nearly two weeks ago, about an hour after midnight, I laid my head to rest at my Washington Heights sublet. It was snowing again, which wasn’t shocking considering the timing of my past four Bolt Bus trips back home to Philadelphia and how they each coincided with some type of snow event. When I left the apartment scurrying amongst flurries the next morning, I knew that had been my last night in this ultra-Spanish neighborhood that was the inspiration for the Broadway musical, “In The Heights.” When I returned from Philly a week later, I’d be laying to rest on my friend’s couch in the refined gayborhood of Chelsea. After my fourth night there, I left this afternoon to embark on a weekend trip to Los Angeles to celebrate the life of my great friend and benefactor, Mimi Chiang. It may end, though, with me sleeping at the airport. My first flight was cancelled and my re-booked flight officially has me listed on standby. When I lay down to rest (hopefully tonight) in the Pacific Palisades, my mind may drift in and out of strategic problem solving to determine where I’ll stay when I return. Trying to find a short-term sublet in New York City is a difficult task. It’s been a stressful search, but I’ll just deal with it when I have a free moment. I know your first thought, “Gosh…I’d be utterly panicked right now!” Oh, I’m getting there. But a modern day gypsy must live for adventure.

Back when I first moved to Philadelphia in June of 2011, I met a peer and colleague whom I had known of since competing against him in the first two years of the international youth ballet competition, Youth America Grand Prix (circa 2000). Robert Colby Damon, or Colby, had been working as a freelance artist for a few years by that point. I knew, with my 22-week contract, that I’d have to endure a small amount of freelancing work. But I had no idea what I was truly in for. Colby and I used to talk about his couch-surfing habits and his fly by the seat of his pants housing situations. I probably sat talking to him, mouth agape, trying to comprehend how he lived like this. Little did I know, that I was about to fly through my own crash course in modern day gypsy-ism.

My First Gypsy Bed in NYC

I didn’t start off living this crazy, nationally-touring freelance lifestyle at such a fast clip. My first stay in somebody else’s home was in New York City for 3 weeks when I performed at the Guggenheim. It was nearly 3 months that I slept in my own bed after that. Then, I spent 5 weeks residing with a host family in Anchorage. Once I lost my contract with Ballet X, things picked up at an almost frenzied pace. 1 week on Long Island, 3 weeks in Providence, 1 week in New Hampshire. Dancing a summer gig in Philadelphia was a nice respite from what was about to come. Within 2 years, I would see Rochester twice, Myrtle Beach, Virginia, West Virginia, Louisiana, San Francisco (twice), Walnut Creek, Los Angeles (too many times to count), Anchorage (again and again), Indiana, and more and more and more. Aside from 5 months at home at the beginning of 2015, I haven’t stayed put for more than a few weeks for over 4 years.

My Washington Heights Sublet & My Weekly Packing Ritual

What does it feel like to travel as much as I do? It requires a certain sense of adventure and freedom from expectation. It necessitates one to go with the flow. Oddly enough, I find myself micromanaging my life when I return home to my apartment in Philadelphia. Likely because I finally feel like I can control my environment. When people meet me in gypsy-mode, they often comment that I am so laid back. Instead of plastering on this facade, I learned that it is just easier to submit to the uncertainty and confusion that can come from changing things up on the regular.

One thing that a lot of people wonder is how I cope with the irregularity of this lifestyle. Honestly, sometimes, I don’t. Sometimes, I ignore my own needs and keep pressing forth to create my art and pay my bills. This is a bad way to deal with things. And as I learned back in 2014, it can lead to severe, nearly-crippling burn out. What I have found that helps is to acclimate fast, find what comforts you absolutely require, and to stay connected with people in your life in order to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Seen on my acclimation walk in Richmond, VA

To acclimate myself to a new situation, If time allows, I will always go for an extremely long walk (or drive if that is available) around the neighborhood that I am living in. Knowing where food, drink, and toiletry options are helps a lot. Do keep in mind that you will likely spend more money the first few days, as you won’t know what stores in neighborhoods provide the best deals. When I first began subletting in the Heights, I paid nearly $5 for one of my favorite snacks when the grocery store a block away sold it for $2 less. It’s essentially the equivalent to moving your entire apartment and adjusting to that new neighborhood, only every couple of days or weeks.

As for comforts, I know I’m a fully-grown man, but I travel and sleep with a little stuffed animal that my partner gave me as a gift the first year that I started traveling for work. I haven’t slept with a stuffed animal since I was a little kid. But the discomfort of sleeping somewhere foreign and having an empty bed makes this more comforting than you could imagine. Or in another case, if your morning routine requires coffee (like mine, and lots of it), if coffee isn’t readily available, buy some instant coffee. No matter how poor the quality of the brew, it will be comforting to know it is still somewhat within your control.

Lastly, be sure to keep communication lines open with friends and family. One of my biggest challenges, as my workload involves a great deal of in-studio and out of studio effort, is to make contact with those that I love and who love me back. Text messages don't always feel extremely personal. I like to use chat apps (like Facebook messenger), phone calls, or Facetime/Skype calls to have a full conversation versus broken apart text chats that may span days. I feel it is important for any gypsy to be surrounded by people they know beyond acquaintances on a regular basis, even if not in person. At times, I have felt like I was losing sense of who I was before I started freelancing. I used to have a group of friends and co-workers that would joke, tease, and laugh with (and sometimes at) me. Whether they were lovingly pointing out my flaws or supporting me in an unnecessary moment of distress, I always knew who I was as I saw my reflection in their attention. I lost this for some time as I became too focused on my work. So, be sure to note the factors that bring normalcy into your life and try to keep them with you on the fly.

Sometimes, I wish that I never knew what it felt like to be a gypsy. And part of the reason that I am residentially floating around New York City is to find a place to call my career-home. It’s both emotionally and physically exhausting. But at the same time, I find myself constantly peering back into history at my 15 year old self and imagining what he would think if somebody told him this would be his life one day. It’s fascinating and horrifying. Exciting and nerve-wracking. I don’t have long flowing garb or dangly earrings. I’m not quick-witted or sassy. I’m a 5’ 10’’ Jewish gay white boy who wears the same clothes that everybody else does. Yet, it wouldn’t be odd for you to see me pass you by with a carry-on sized piece of luggage dragging behind me. My name is Barry Kerollis and I am a modern day gypsy.

Living that Gypsy Life

New York Called

My view from the Bolt Bus as I wrote this post

Nearly 15 years ago, I sat in the backseat of my mom’s car with my luggage packed in the trunk and stars in my teary eyes. We were waiting in line to pass through the bottle-necking entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel. I had just completed my final year of pre-professional training at the School of American Ballet, was embarking on an exciting career journey, and had just offered goodbyes to many friends that I still remain close to today. While I was sad to say goodbye to my friends and to move on to the next stage of my dance life, I wasn’t crying for either of those reasons. I knew then that it would be quite awhile before I called the city that I felt so closely connected to home. The city that inspired me to work hard. The city that showed me art mattered. The city where I grew from child to man. There I was, in the back seat of the car talking out loud as if the city had ears, “One day you’ll be home again. I’ll be back!” Well, I’m not one to say things that I don’t mean. Today is that day.

Awhile back, I wrote a post titled “New York Calling,” where I considered the fact that New York seems to hold some strange gravitational pull for any artist that calls themselves dancer. At that time, I was caught in the middle of my freelance performance career floating from gig to gig with little direction but the wind. I wasn’t necessarily getting much work in the city, but I was receiving little sparks of possibility as I began dreaming of settling down from traveling for a little bit. While I started feeling that pull to return a few years ago, circumstances just seemed incorrect or impossible to move the hour and a half hop, skip, and jump north of my hometown.

At one point in my life, I would have probably just run with my gut feeling and moved to the city without furniture, job, or care for how I was going to make something happen. But things changed at some point along my artistic journey. When I first met my partner, I gave him the daunting ultimatum, “Don’t make me choose between you and my career...because I won’t choose you.” After agreeing to this intense consideration, he moved to Seattle to be with me (I claimed 2 weeks after he moved that I was auditioning to leave PNB, which took nearly 5 years to actually happen) and later relocated to Philadelphia for the next stage of my career. But by the time I started realizing Philly wasn't working out, I couldn’t choose between him or my career. He had already given up so much just to be with me, so I needed to give him a chance to develop himself and his career. So, I’ve freelanced out of Philadelphia for 4 years and ignored the pull of the dance capitol.

I came to a realization in the last year, mostly brought on by my first extended period of time staying home in Philly the first half of 2015. During my time at home, I did everything that I could possibly do to find inspiring work and connect myself to the greater Philadelphia professional dance scene. I sent applications to teach at pre-professional training programs, I applied for a ballet master position with PA Ballet, and I reached out to find a way to be a part of the greater ballet scene the city has to offer. At one point, I even applied for a week-long collaboration residency that placed Philadelphia-based artists with others in different genres. My rejection letter was kind, but I was disheartened by the feedback that stated, "It seems you are more interested in meeting artists than collaborating with them."

While there were moments of hope, I was left to go back to my regular way of working; creating my own inspiration and traveling the country to places that valued my work. By the time this summer had passed, I began craving outside inspiration and a place to call my artistic home. And it just seemed that Philly wasn't going to offer that to me. I knew what I had to do. But I was afraid to say it. I was afraid to ask. I was afraid to give myself permission. What if I moved to New York?

I spent much of the fall season working on my Core-ography project and developing my AK-BK Intensive Winter Workshop in Anchorage. But New York was on my mind the whole time. Slowly, but surely, I realized that I had to make this happen. During a quick visit to the city right before heading up to Alaska this past December, I mentioned to a good friend that I have freelanced with in the past that I was looking for a place to live. I was just catching this friend up on what I was doing. And, by chance, he happened to have a room opening up at his apartment.

Fast-forward a little over a month later, and here I am (I started this blog on the bus and finished after I settled in) laying in my brand new bedroom, staring out my window at the beaming George Washington Bridge, and smiling after my first day as a new resident of this incredible city. What am I going to do now that I'm here? I don't know. But I am so excited to have hope, possibility, and dreams staring me straight on. I look forward to looking back at this post down the road and seeing where this risk and adventure takes me.

View of George Washington Bridge from my bedroom window

Catch Up on LOFD (Vol. 2) - Previous Blog Posts

There are lots of exciting things happening as the new year begins. From finishing up Core-ography's Share Your Story fundraising campaign to moving to NYC this week, and being asked to be a part of an exciting project. There is even more exciting news on its way in the next few weeks that I can't quite announce yet. While I can't share this news yet, I am making a preemptive move and updating my past list of blogs for those of you who are joining the freelancing party. I have been blogging about the freelance lifestyle for nearly 4 years at this point and the topics I have written on are vast. Catch up on LOFD and peruse what has come before. And please stay tuned for new content soon. 

List of Previous Blogs:
 
124. See Blog Posts 1 -123 Here

125. "Create Your Own Project" series - Fiscal Sponshorship

126. Teaching at Peridance Capezio Center - May 6, 13, and 16
 
127. "Create Your Own Project" series - Writing a Fundraising Letter

128. Core-ography gains attention in Philly Magazine

129. "Create Your Own Project" series - Writing Your Own Budget

130. Travel Post - It is Only an Airport - CALM DOWN!!!!!

131. What Have I Been Up To? - AK-BK Contemporary Ballet Workshop

132. "Create Your Own Project" series - Make a Crowdfunding Campaign

133. 8 Things You May Not Know About Me

134. Cultivating Your Outgoing Personality in New Work Environments

135. A Positive Look At My Recent Failure

136. Help Core-ography Meet It's Goal - Final 3 Days of Fundraising Campaign

137. LOFD Reaches Major Milestone - How My Life Has Changed Since I Began Freelancing

138. Core-ography - "A Global Dance Storytelling Project" Preview

139. Presenting Core-ography - "A Global Dance Storytelling Project"

140. Giving Everything For Your Art (or Not)

141. Core-ography - Our New Artist Preview and Choreographer's Vlog

142. Core-ography Explores Coping with Death

143. Letter to My Teenage Self

144. Core-ography Takes on Substance Abuse

145. 8 Gifts My Career Has Given Me

146. Share Your Story Campaign & My 12 Favorite Experiences of 2015

147. 16 People Who Have Greatly Influenced My Life

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. :-)

New York Calling

Thank you for your patience over the last few weeks as I have taken a break from writing regular blogs. For over a year, I have been writing continuous posts without a break and after throwing a successful CONTACT event (stay tuned for an upcoming blog), I took a vacation to LA and gave myself a true break. With that said, I am proud to say that Life of a Freelance Dancer was recently published in Dance/USA's online E-journal. This honor is a true testament to the content that is posted in this blog and I couldn't be happier with that. Thank you to my viewers and I can't wait to see what is to come. Now on to this weeks topic!

Bowing as "Puss & Boots" at SAB workshop 2003

At the age of 19, I danced in my final workshop performance as a student with the School of American Ballet, packed up all of my belongings, and hopped in my mom's car to drive home for the last time before joining a big company. It was a very emotional period for me. Not only was I saying goodbye to a group of friends that had become family. I was embarking on a journey that marked the end of my career as a student. All I had known was being a student. Not only did this performance note the finishing of my training, it also put a period on the end of my childhood. On the drive back to Pennsylvania, I began to cry within moments of entering Lincoln Tunnel. My mom asked me why I was crying. I replied that other than missing my real-life friends, I felt like I was leaving behind one of my best friends. New York City. I knew then that the city that never sleeps would always have a place in my heart and that I would one day return.

I moved to Texas to join the Houston Ballet less than a month after my exit from SAB. Being thrown into a new environment, hours and hours of rehearsal, and figuring out how to live on my own, I quickly forgot how much I really missed New York City. As the year passed, I came to realize that having come straight from the country's largest metropolis made it difficult for me to enjoy my transition into Texas-living. I missed walkable streets, good public transport, and having thousands of people breeze by me on their own path. I quickly realized that I needed to find another company in a city where I could live happily. Thus, my journey to Seattle began.

View of the Joyce Theater from the stage

Although I never really fell in love with the city of Seattle, I did find the city a relief from the heat and sprawl of Houston. Again, I had to adjust to my new home and company, but this time I had 7 long years to live, learn, and grow into an adult. By my sixth year in the company, I remember thinking about New York quite often. After joining a small group of PNB dancers on tour to perform at The Joyce Theater, I realized how isolated we really were in the Pacific Northwest. Just stepping foot into Steps on Broadway gave me a great idea of what I had been missing. I consider Steps the Cheers of the ballet world. Nearly every professional I know either takes class regularly or drops into this landmark dance studio when they are in town. There were dancers in class that I hadn't seen in years. Although I realized that these former classmates, colleagues, and friends hadn't forgotten who I was, I felt like I had been missing out on something really important.

I don't know what seed had been planted in me that eventually grew into my yearning to jump ship. But when it happened, I was set. I wanted to live in New York, but I didn't want to join the vast ranks of New York City Ballet or American Ballet Theatre (if they would even take me). So, my partner and I agreed that I would only audition for companies in cities where we wanted to live. The list was San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, Montreal, Boston, Philadelphia, DC, and Miami. If all else failed, we would move to New York and I would freelance. Although this idea mortified me, it felt like the perfect backup plan. Alas, I was offered a job in Philadelphia and we moved to the Mid-Atlantic.

Although I was very excited to move back home (even though I am really from the burbs), I was even more excited to be close to New York again. I was already on a Bolt bus heading to an open rehearsal with a summer gig before I had even really settled into my new apartment. I got off the bus, looked around, and smiled very widely to myself. I was home. But, after spending three weeks in the city performing in the Guggenheim's Works and Process series a few months later, I had a realization. As an adult, I really didn't want to live in the city unless I could enjoy living there. When I was training at SAB, I was on full scholarship, which included classes, housing, meals, and a few more perks. My childhood in New York was a facade. I didn't have to worry about anything financially. It's a very different story as an adult and I wasn't privy to living in my favorite city and scrounging by. I have friends who live in the tiniest apartments at the highest prices. They often skip out on the finer things the city has to offer due to financial restraints. At the same time, I was happy with my transition into a new style of dancing in Philly. Why would I want to leave.

Well, as I have alluded to in the past, after nearly 8 months in our new home city, everything came collapsing down on top of me. I became injured and couldn't afford what I needed to recover. I could barely pay my rent with the greatly reduced salary I had accepted to try something new.  And now that I was injured, fear was really starting to set in as I continued dancing through the pain just to scrounge by. Finally, when I decided to take time off to heal, everything imploded into me. The company had been hiding workers comp from me for months. I found out and the company responded with anger, threats, and lies. All other details aside, it nearly destroyed me, my career, and being. Not only did I fear that I would lose my home and career, I feared walking the streets of my city because I didn't want to run into any part of the close-knit dance scene that only knew a very skewed version of what actually happened. It only felt natural that I run away from the pain and fear and start anew.

After this very challenging experience, it crossed my mind many times that I should pick up and run to New York. Aside from being a great escape, there were freelancing opportunities galore. But money, my partner, and a handful of other life-items kept me from escaping all of this turmoil. Lucky for me, I had all of these things tying me down to Philadelphia. If it weren't for that, I likely would have been reacting, instead of making a conscious, thought-out decision. For this reason, we stayed in Philly and I started living the life of a freelance dancer.

It has been 16 months since these events happened and I am still happily a resident of Philadelphia. Although I find myself traveling more than half the year, I am always excited to return back home. At times, work has brought me to New York. And trying to connect with the greater part of the New York freelance community has kept me coming back. After last week's CONTACT event, I was asked to attend an audition to workshop a piece that could eventually be developed into a much larger show. I found out recently that I had landed the gig and will be spending two weeks in New York at the beginning of August.

What I have come to realize is that although I am not currently a resident of New York, being that it is the center of the dance world, I will always return. Whether as a student, professional, teacher, choreographer, entrepreneur or more. But what I have also realized is that while New York holds a large place in my heart, for the time being it is not my home. And I am perfectly happy with that. In fact, I love Philadelphia. Part of that is due to its' close proximity to New York City.

Quintessential New York City shot - Columbus Circle

Now that I call Philly my home and don't see that changing at any point in the foreseeable future, I am not yearning to be a New Yorker anytime soon. I see myself picking up work in the city and spending large chunks of time in this important hub of dance. But Philly will remain my home-base. New York continues to call and I will continue to answer. I feel any dance-professional, whether a New Yorker or not, feels this way to a degree. And you know what, when it does call. Answer!

CONTACT: A networking event connecting freelance dancers

Dancers connecting with dancers

It's Saturday night (I didnt get to edit until Monday) and I'm laying on my king-sized bed in my hotel room at the Courtyard Marriott right outside of Rochester, NY with ice on my muscles while drinking a Yuengling lager. I have been trying to find time all week to write this post, as I started rehearsing Nutcracker with Rochester City Ballet, but I am beginning to learn that my first week dancing any gig is always overly exhausting. This is not only because I am dancing a lot, but meeting new people, learning the culture of a company, and taking in new styles and choreography can be overwhelming. But the midnight hour has passed and I finally feel like I can take a moment to share about the event that I threw in NYC a few weeks back.

When I started freelancing, I had a very small network of friends that had any knowledge about the art of dancing with different companies on a regular basis. Most of the dancers that I knew who freelanced were stars of big ballet companies. They didn't actively seek work, instead they were always sought out for work. It must be nice to have people calling you, asking you to work for them. But in most realities, unless you are a leading dancer with a big name company, you are unlikely to receive random phone calls requesting your service as a performer.

A small network of freelancers

As I have spent more time in this field, I have started to build a base of freelancing friends and what I have found is that there is a great need for resources, mentoring, and connection in our community. Like I wrote in my previous posting, The importance of your freelancing friends, the best way that you can find work and support is through your network of friends that freelance. Dancers typically create this network very slowly, gig by gig. It is also common for dancers to lack interaction with others that perform in different styles and genres of dance. Due to the nature of our work, it can take years to develop a solid, nurturing system of support. I felt this personally and I felt this amongst my friends and decided to do something about it.

Co-hosts Bennyroyce Royon and me

An old friend of mine, Bennyroyce Royon, and I reconnected through our freelancing careers. He was a student at Juilliard, while I was a student at the School of American Ballet. We were two of very few students that crossed the social boundaries of the contemporary college and neo-classical ballet high school dance programs. After we graduated from our respective schools, we mostly lost touch, aside from a handful of chance run-ins. When I was rehearsing in NYC for my gig with Avi Scher & dancers, we reconnected and have stayed in close contact ever since. Aside from our mutual care and friendship, we have also been a great support system for each other as freelancers. Although we were raised dancers of different styles, we have had some crossover during our careers. Nonetheless, we mostly remain within the realm of our backgrounds, Benny dancing mostly contemporary work and myself dancing more in the ballet spectrum. We both exist in the same world and in two completely different worlds. We chatted for awhile when I was visiting New York this past August and decided that we needed to connect our separate communities and create something to bring together those beyond the communities that we know. And with that idea, Contact: A networking event connecting freelance dancers was born!

Our venue in Greenwich Village - Soy and Sake

Just a few weeks ago, on Monday, October 22nd, Benny and I threw our first event for freelance dancers. We were more than pleased with the success of the evening. Not only did we exceed our goal of attendees, but we also exceeded our goal of community support. We already knew that there was a great need for connection in our community. But talking directly to hardworking freelance dancers, we learned that there is even more need than we realized. Dancers don't just need help finding work, but many of the freelancers we talked to are uninsured, have few resources to help market themselves to a broad audience, struggled to find work and proper working conditions once they found it, work multiple jobs, and have nobody to hold their hand along the way. I am hoping, through events like this and beyond, to help create a support network that will make our lifestyle easier, more lucrative, and more sustainable.

Excitement over door prizes

Not only was there great energy coming from the numbers of freelancers at our event, but there was great feedback from the organizations that donated door prizes in support of this event. Benny and I were able to obtain donations from Dance Magazine, the Joyce Theater, Sansha, Broadway Dance Center, Lyquid Talent (website design), and MurphyMade photography, among others. Aside from the generosity from these organizations, those that weren't able to donate within the short time period that we put this event together (2 weeks is a short period of time), expressed their support and hope to donate to future events. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "this is such an important thing for this community and I am glad that you are doing this. Keep us updated." The general excitement for the potential coming from this event was thrilling and touching.

Meeting new friends

I hope that Benny and I can continue to bring our community together and offer friendship and support to this network of talented human beings. We are so grateful for all of the support that we received for this event and for the great amount of generosity that was offered to make this event a success! Enjoy the photos I posted from that evening (captured by the amazing Karsten Staiger) and please stay tuned for future news!

Networking at its finest

Exciting News from "Life of a Freelance Dancer"

Me performing my own choreography in the Philly Fringe Fest - Gated Lies (Photo: Bill Hebert)

I have some exciting news to announce. When I started this blog a few months ago, I never really expected to get the response and feedback that I have been getting from our community of freelance dancers. Listening to my personal network of friends and freelancers, I have realized that there is a great need for support, connection, and resources in our community. For these reasons, I have decided to host (with my dear friend and fellow freelancer, Bennyroyce Royon, co-hosting) CONTACT: A networking event connecting freelance dancers. Not only will this be a great opportunity to get to know our community, but there will also be great door-prizes that will be invaluable to any freelance dancer. I wish we could hold this event in every city that freelancers exist in, but for the moment we will have to settle for our dance capitol. So, if you are in NYC on October 22nd and available between 7-10 PM, please send me a message through this blog or at BKerollis@yahoo.com and I will send you all of the details you need to RSVP for this event. Since there is limited space, we do ask that only freelancers with one or more years of professional experience attend. Hope to see my fellow freelance dancers there!

Experience Post - "Works & Process" @ the Guggenheim - Avi Scher & Dancers

Performing IT MAKES ME NERVOUS by Avi Scher (Photo: Matthew Murphy)

It's really hard to perform freelancing work when you are dancing on contract for 40 weeks. For this reason, I didn't do much outside work while dancing with big companies. When word started to get out that I would not be returning during my last season with Pacific Northwest Ballet, I received a few facebook messages and emails from people to see if the news was true. One of those people was an old friend of mine, Avi Scher. He checked in to see if there was the possibility that I would be available to work in October. Lucky enough for me, I was.

Avi and I first met during our final year of training at the School of American Ballet. He had been training at the school since he was a young child. He even got to perform as Fritz in New York City Ballet's Nutcracker. Since Avi grew up in New York City, he had always lived at home. Being his final year of training, he chose to really immerse himself in the SAB experience. Although he lived only a few blocks away from the school, Avi moved into the dorms and into one of the rooms in my suite. We were in the same class and we got to know each other during that time, but he left mid-year to spread his wings down at the Miami City Ballet school. Avi has had a varied dance career, dancing as a company member and freelancer with many companies across the country. Though he has enjoyed a stellar dance career, he has also received much acclaim for his skills as a choreographer. He choreographed while at SAB and while moving around the country dancing. Eventually, he slowed down his dance career to focus on choreography and start Avi Scher & Dancers. His company has become best known for bringing in stars of American companies and mixing them with excellent-quality dancers from around the country, while still offering evenings of dance at an affordable price.

Although Avi Scher & Dancers didn't produce the evening of work I would dance in, he had been asked by the Guggenheim Museum to create for their regular educational series Works & Process. This specific series was dedicated to the music of Elliott Carter. The Guggenheim had a pretty fascinating idea to procure an evening of new choreography to his music with two choreographers creating dance on the same piece of music. Emery Lecrone and Avi both offered their choreographic voice while a moderator posed questions and offered the audience to get involved in discussion prior, inbetween, and after the performances. It was a pretty great concept.

 Avi Scher's IT MAKES ME NERVOUS (Photo: Matthew Murphy)

Around the middle of September, I came up to New York to begin preparing this project. Although Avi and I stayed connected through social networking sites and word of mouth over the years, we hadn't seen each other or chatted much since we left SAB, aside from a random, awkward pass-by as he got off a plane I was about board (I had taken an anticipatory sleeping pill for the 6 hour flight and was moderately incoherent). It was great to catch up and to get to know each other as adults. But for the most part, we had to get down to business since we only had about 2 weeks to create/learn choreography to the 6 movements of music. Not only were we short on time, but the music presented challenges. Elliott Carter did not create a typical piece of orchestrated music. The composition was atonal, plucky, and extremely complex to count. This presented a few problems. Obviously, it was difficult to count. It was also difficult to choreograph to and equally difficult to listen to for extended periods of time. I enjoy choreographing as well, but I really give Avi credit for creating his work, IT MAKES ME NERVOUS, to this music. I would have a hard time finding much inspiration in this particular work. Somehow, Avi was able to make it work and created an interesting work that was quite well-received and enjoyable to dance. In fact, Oberon's Grove said, "IT MAKES ME NERVOUS made me want a second look in order to take in all the visual polyphony."

The cast of Avi Scher's IT MAKES ME NERVOUS

Aside from dancing on an important stage in the world of dance education, the best part of this entire experience was getting the opportunity to spend an extended period of time in New York. After spending 8 years away from the east coast, while living in Houston and Seattle, I felt like I had lost many of my dance connections. Aside from getting to reconnect with Avi and meeting the amazing dancers/new friends that were a part of this project, I also had the opportunity to reconnect with a great part of the dance world that I left behind when I moved across the country. I remember the first day that I returned to Steps on Broadway to get warmed up for rehearsal. I must have run into at least 10 people that I hadn't seen in anywhere from 1 to 10 years within minutes of arriving. For this reason, I call Steps the "Cheers of the ballet world." Being so far away and isolated from the core of the dance world for 8 years, I was pretty positive that most people had forgotten who I was or that I even existed. It was exhilarating, rewarding, and heartwarming to see that I still had this great connection with so many great friends and dancers even after such a long hiatus. This experience was a great homecoming. Not only did I have this wonderful dance experience, but I also had a wonderful life experience. Sometimes, living the life of a freelance dancer can be full of great surprises and rewards.

Continuing to better your technique in open class or on your own

I was taking a particularly good open ballet class from Natalia Charova at Koresh Dance Company's school this morning. I was given a lot of attention and a handful of corrections, when a particular thought crossed my mind. It isn't very frequent that open class teachers give me more than one correction during a class. If a freelancer takes class at a school, they are typically overlooked because it is the teacher's responsibility to give more to their students than a professional. But if a professional dancer only has the option to take open classes, how do they continue to improve themselves as a dancer?

My last week has been extremely busy, from teaching to rehearsals to going up to NYC to audition for Sleep No More. I didn't realize that this topic would become my next post, but I should have seen it coming after class on Wednesday. Most of the classes I have been taking since becoming a full-time freelancer have been open classes. When a professional dancer enters an open class, it can take a while to establish a relationship with the teacher. These open class teachers, in most situations, appear to give dancers space as a gesture of respect and acknowledgement of their time put in and talent. Some dancers like to receive corrections, some are just trying to take a class that is a change from their regular company class, and others just want to be in a safe environment where they can warm up as they wish. As a dancer comes to class more often, teachers tend to test the waters and see how each particular dancer wants to take their open class.

Now, the reason that I should have seen this topic coming is because I went to Steps On Broadway to take a warm up class before my audition. I took from one of my favorite teachers, Nancy Bielski. I have been taking from Nancy since the days I thought I would become a Broadway dancer. This was well before I fell in love with ballet (maybe at the age of 15). I was particularly driven to make it professionally and would push myself to the front of her class, perhaps when I shouldn't have been. I remember her specifically pulling me aside and telling me that there are professionals in class and that I should be more respectful. I am sure she doesn't remember this, as we have only really connected in the past year. But that is besides the point. I was spending a few weeks in NYC this past October doing a gig with Avi Scher & Dancers at the Guggenheim (stay tuned for an experience report in an upcoming blog) and began taking Nancy's class regularly for that time. From day one, she quickly and effectively offered me corrections. After that first class with her in years, she pulled me aside to see who I was and where I danced. Ever since that conversation, I have been greatly impressed by her memory. Each time I have returned to her class, even if it has been months, she remembers my name and keeps on me throughout the entire class. That is one thing that I really appreciate about Nancy. From the start, she doesn't hold back when it comes to correcting dancers. I feel that she realizes how important it is for a dancer to keep growing well beyond their formal training. I walked into class this past Wednesday and, right as class got underway, I was given a direct correction in plies, "Barry...when you are in 4th position you have to pull your left hip back, even with the right." Then, again, in our first tendu combination, she walks up to me and says, "You have to fix this and then I'll leave you alone for a bit." I began to think to myself, "Wow! It has been so long since I have been corrected. I can't believe that I've been doing this on my own. How do I realize what I need to work on if I don't have a set of eyes looking directly at me." And there the basis for this post was created.

As a freelance dancer who doesn't have a regular artistic director/ballet master/teacher that knows who you are and what you need in order to grow as a dancer, how do you make sure that you are continuing to perfect your art? I feel that it really depends on who you are as a dancer. The simple but not always practical answer is to go straight up to the teacher and say, "I like to be corrected." I don't know any dancer that has done that the first or second time they have met a new teacher. I am one of those dancers that enjoys being constructively corrected. When I enter a new classroom, instead of verbally stating this, I imply with my body language that corrections are important to me. I don't hang out in the back for each combination. Instead, I stand as close to the front as possible, in plain sight of the teacher. If the teacher does offer me a correction, I nod my head or verbally acknowledge the note. Then, I try to work on that correction right away so the teacher sees me doing it. This shows the teacher that I am comfortable and accepting of corrections. If I really just want to warm up in a class, I will hang out in the back of the room for combinations and offer others a chance to be in the foreground.

If you aren't lucky enough to find a teacher that is comfortable correcting professionals or if you are giving yourself your own class at times, how do you continue getting better? I've toyed around with this idea a lot in the past few months. I have always approached class with the thought that I shouldn't just be warming up, but I should be bettering my form. When I start class, I usually have a general thought continuously flowing through my head. Something along the lines of, pull my inner thighs together to close any air showing between the legs, or hold my core but leave the natural curve of my lower spine, or reach my limbs as far away from my core as possible without distorting my placement to create a longer line. I take one idea and use that as my focus throughout the entire class. I am not so focused on the idea that I can't analyze other things that need to be fixed. But if I start with that foundation, at least I'm always working on something. Dancers can use this method on their own for a period of time, but eventually they will need to have a set of outside eyes to watch them. Another educated dancer or teacher can give you new ideas to use as your foundation correction for class.

Another important tool that I have utilized as a dancer that often has to rely on myself to continue improving is Youtube. If I need inspiration as a choreographer, I will look at footage of choreography by some of my favorite choreographers. I realized that I can do the same thing if I need to find inspiration to better my skills. I have learned that watching dancers that inspire me offers a new look at my own dancing. If I watch a dancer performing online and see that I am really impressed by the execution of their pirouettes, I'll watch the video multiple times to evaluate how they are performing the feat. The next time I get into a studio, I try to mimic what they have done. Of course, this method requires true knowledge of technique, as a dancer doesn't necessarily want to emulate a choreographically stylized version of a step. But if a dancer doesn't have access to another pair of eyes, they can use other tools to remind themselves of corrections that may not have come to mind while they were working on their own.

There are many ways that dancers can better themselves in an environment that doesn't have a leader to guide you on a path of bettering your technique. The above ideas should be very helpful to any dancer, in a company or freelancing. Of course, there are surely other ways to improve yourself that I haven't listed or explored. So, if you have any other ideas that I have forgotten or haven't thought about, please feel free to share them in the comment box below.

Choosing Your Home Base

My Home Base - Philadelphia, PA

Although many freelance dancers spend much of their time traveling around the world performing, most still need a place to call home. I do have a few friends that I would consider nomadic, living from friend-to-friend during their off-time. Generally, though, most freelancers need to choose a location that they can not only call home, but also a place from where they can easily conduct their business.

Choosing a location to call home is not always an option. Some dancers are just beginning their freelance careers straight out of school. This could mean that you are still living with your parents. Other dancers are employed with a full-time company and need to reside in the city where their work requires them to be. But how do you choose a place to conduct your business from if you don't have one of these factors to decide for you?

I live in Philadelphia, PA. The deciding factor for choosing Philly, for me, was not related to the fact that the city is a great place to freelance as a dancer. I, initially, moved to this city for a seasonal job. Once my time with that job had come to an end, I realized that Philly is the perfect city for me to live and work out of. Instead of creating an outright list in this post, I will tell you through my experience in this city why it is a great place for me to call my home base.

The first reason why Philadelphia is such a great place to freelance from is its location. Everybody knows that New York City is the capitol of the dance world. There are many opportunities to perform, audition, take workshops, see shows, make connections, and stay in shape in NYC. What most people don't realize is that Philly is a short 2-hour ride by car, train, or bus. I can easily get to New York on the Bolt Bus or Mega Bus for between $20 to $30 round-trip (though I prefer the Bolt Bus for its reliability and rewards program). Amtrak is also a great option, but it is not as cost effective. As we all know, NYC is one of the most expensive places to live in the US. If you don't need to be in the city every day, it could be more cost effective to live in a city close-by. My rent in Philly is much cheaper and my cost of living remains much lower. Many of my NYC dancer friends have to live in a different borough than Manhattan, where most of the dance action is taking place, with roommates in order to afford their rent. Their commute to work is usually more than an hour each way. Keeping that in mind, a 2-hour bus ride isn't much longer than the average commute for a New Yorker. Not only that, but Philly's dance scene covers most of my needs as a dancer

Another reason that Philadelphia is such a great location is its proximity along the Northeastern corridor. There is a greater amount of freelance work in the northeast due to its immense population density. It is also much easier for a company or school to bring in a guest artist if it is cheaper to get a dancer on location. Keep in mind that the less an employer has to pay for travel, the more potential they have to pay you more. I have taken a train to Providence, flown to New Hampshire, and taken the bus to New York. I am also close to an international airport with many daily flights that fly all across the country. I am more marketable by being more accessible.

Philly is also a great place to freelance out of due to the fact that it has a great dance scene. Most people aren't aware of this because the city is overshadowed by its close proximity to NYC. Aside from more established companies like Pennsylvania Ballet, Philadanco, and Koresh Dance Company, there are hundreds of small companies and projects happening around the city year-round. The city also has an annual Philly Fringe Festival with hundreds of performances spanning over a few weeks and a bi-annual event named the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts. Not only do these festivals offer great audience experiences, but they also offer many opportunities to perform locally. Although many freelancers travel for performances, it is really nice to be able to work in the city that you call home. I often use resources like Dance USA - Philadelphia Chapter and Philadalphia Dance to keep up to date on what is happening.

Beyond performance opportunities, it is very important to have a few options available to keep in shape. One of my biggest concerns is whether or not I can find a facility that offers quality, affordable classes. By quality, I mean top-notch instruction, enough space to execute combinations, and class sizes that are appropriate. Sometimes, a dancer needs to go through a trial-and-error phase with different dance studios. I've taken classes in studios that are too small or where the instruction level is poor. I have found that there are a few great options in my city. I prefer to take classes at Koresh Dance School in Philly, as the instruction quality is high and the classes are affordable. Most organizations that offer drop-in classes will give you a professional rate that is less expensive than the regular price of classes (in NYC most places only offer a $.50 discount), so be sure to mention that you are a professional and have some sort of proof. Not every city has a listing of weekly classes, but Philadelphia Dance does compile this list of places to take open classes. When it comes to any city, though, you will have to do your research online and ask other dancers in the area. If it appears that there are no drop-in classes in your area, don't be afraid to contact a respected school or company and ask if you can join in advanced or company class. The worst they could say is no.

When choosing your home base, there are a lot of things to keep in mind. For many people, New York City comes up as the only option of places to conduct freelance dance work. It is a great option and my favorite city, but avoiding this option may be the only way to make freelancing affordable. Most of my freelancing friends live in larger cities, where there is greater accessibility to classes and transportation. Other than New York, most others live out of Philadelphia, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Miami. Although living in a larger city has great advantages, you may not have that option. If this is the case, make the best of the options that you have available to you. But if you are looking to relocate to a new city in order to make the most out of your freelancing career, take location, cost of living, and accessibility to your dance needs into consideration for the greatest chance at success.