Accepting Payment at the End of a Gig

Performing with the cast of CVDA's The Nutcracker

I recently performed in yet another production of every non-dancer's favorite holiday production of The Nutcracker. The shows went well, I wore white tights onstage for the first time this season, and I made a pretty penny all while playing the role of King of the Cranes, or the actual title of the role, Sugar Plum Fairy Cavalier. When all was said and done, I'm glad that I participated yet again in this seasonal tradition. One of my favorite memories from this year's production was watching one of my former students from Alaska, whom I still mentor, perform in one of his first professional guesting gigs. He performed the role of Snow King and did a stellar job at jumping in, learning the choreography quickly, and delivering solid performances. During the final intermission of his 3 show run, as I took the stage to warm up and prepare my presentation of the Sugar Plum Fairy, I noticed my student sitting on the side of the stage, fully-costumed with sweat dripping down his brow. I took a moment to determine why he was still sitting around in costume during the intermission when I quickly noted that his hands were holding a handful of Amtrak tickets that needed to be reimbursed for his travel to rehearsals and the theatre. Considering I have been mentoring this kid for some years, I kindly walked over, suggested he get changed, and hang around to watch the 2nd act of the production. What I hadn't contemplated until that moment is that there is actually an art to receiving payment that nearly every freelancer will experience at some point as a gig comes to an end.

There are a handful of different payment arrangements that can be made in order to make sure that a freelancer is compensated appropriately and within a respectful time frame. I've spoken about some of these in previous blogs, so I am not going to go into way too much detail here. If a dancer is spending a handful of weeks dancing for an employer, they often receive weekly paychecks or direct deposit into their bank account. But for many freelancers, especially during times like the holiday Nutcracker season, directors often save payment until the end of the last performance of a series. While I have sometimes received a nice little thank you note with payment at the top of my last show, it is much more common to be handed a check after you've received your applause, taken off your makeup, and changed into street clothes. This makes sense, especially if this is your first time working for a company or school. The organization likely wants to be sure you fulfill all of your contractual obligations before handing over your handsome fee. Sometimes, this transaction is taken care of quickly and goes over without thought or attention. Other times, you may be ready to head home, to your hotel, or to the airport, and wondering when you are going to be compensated for you artistic services.

For my student, he found himself in an awkward predicament. He wasn't performing or bowing in the second act, plus he had a local friend ready to drive him to the train back into the city. Since the train wasn't until later, I suggested he wait around and watch the rest of the show. I offered this advice for one reason. The director of a show, who usually issues payment, is likely overwhelmed with the process of making sure that the performance is running on track. From dancers to crew to wardrobe, audience, and beyond, there are many aspects of a show that a director must take care of in order to keep things running smoothly. To stop the director in their tracks asking for payment could be a huge distraction and may even make your intentions and desire to work come off greedy. You don't want it to look like you are only focused on the paycheck. You are a part of a production and there is a certain amount of excitement, emotion, and cultural etiquette that can quickly be cut off or broken by asking for payment. This may be especially true if you head out before the show is over. You want to be supportive of the show and your cast, especially if you are performing for a school and being brought in as a role model.

Now, if you absolutely have a time crunch where you need to get out of the theatre to catch transport, be sure to discuss this with the director prior to the beginning of the show. This is quite understandable, but should be addressed in advance. Usually, the director will make sure that they or an advocate are available to pay you on your way out. Or they often will just give you payment at the top of the show.

So, what do you do if the show has finished and you still haven't been paid? Sometimes, the overwhelming chaos at the end of a production can make a director forgetful, as the crew loads out, the wardrobe collects costumes to be cleaned and stored, and the dancers congratulate one another and change into street clothes. It is possible that intentions can get lost. In this situation, it is perfectly appropriate to seek out the director and request payment. This can be a bit awkward since nobody likes to talk money. But I find that writing a simple thank you card and handing it to them after the series can be an easy pathway to remind them that they owe you something. Think along the lines of a reminder that some type of exchange should be happening. Beyond this, it is good etiquette and relationship building to do this. If you didn't think ahead and get a thank you card, be sure to say goodbye and offer a verbal thank you. And if you still aren't handed your hard-earned salary, do ask when you should expect to receive a check. This is a customary way of saying, "I need to be paid", without demanding it. Usually, by this point, you will be collecting your salary. If not, then that is an entirely different conversation and blog post.

It is a rare occasion when payment isn't received at the end of a show, unless another arrangement has been agreed upon. As I always say, make sure you get an idea of when you should receive payment in writing (or at least in an email). It is never appropriate for an employer to pay you whenever they feel like it. You should know when to expect payment in order to keep track of whether you've been compensated or not. In fact, New York City recently passed the Freelance Isn't Free Act (have they been reading my blog 😉), which requires any freelance artist that makes more than $800 with an organization to have a written contract and receive payment in full within 30 days. This seems like a fair guideline to hold all organizations to, whether you live in New York City or not.

As I've stated many times in this blog, money can be one of the most awkward and uncomfortable things to discuss. But it is important that you get paid within an appropriate time frame. If you don't know when to expect being paid, don't wait around hoping it will happen. Be proactive and start a conversation. Just make sure that you don't start that conversation too late or in the middle of a hectic performance.

Be sure to check out my Holiday Shopping Ideas for Dancers on Pas de Chát: Talking Dance on iTunes - Me & my niece playing around before Nutcracker

In the spirit of the holidays - Part 1 (8 wild moments)

Chanukkah bush and the Jewish nutcracker my mom made me

 In the spirit of the holidays, I have decided to make two lists. This first list is written in the spirit of Chanukkah. Being a secular super Jew (maybe that is an exaggeration),  I am quite aware that the Festival of Lights is well past, but lets keep the celebration going. In honor of the 8 days and nights that the oil burnt bright, I am posting 8 wild moments I experienced while freelancing this year from Philadelphia to Alaska and all the way back to South Carolina.

Super Jew???

1.  One of my wildest experiences while freelancing this year happened while dancing with Alaska Dance Theatre in Anchorage. I was set to dance on live television for Alaska LIVE with Bernadette. About 30 minutes prior to airing across the state, I rehearsed a solo that I performed as Cassio in Othello. Nobody noticed that I rehearsed facing the wrong direction. When my live segment was coming up, they finally realized that they had told me to face the wrong way. The new space was very odd and I was dancing on concrete. Let's just say I winged the whole thing very well.

2. During class at one of my gigs, a dancer sprained her ankle. The director leapt out of their office and said, "You will hate me for this, but you must grab a belt, put in your mouth, stand up, go to barre, and do 100 tendues with sprained ankle. NOW GO!" Let's just say I about died and had to leave the room. (PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!)

3. Three words - Disco search lights during the Sugar Plum variation. While I'm on Nutcracker...performing at a mega church, the addition of English, Italian, and a love pas de deux between Clara and Drosselmeyer, the spilling of dry ice onstage and instead of cleaning it up immediately raising the curtain, a drill team of ridiculously talented gingerbabies, instead of the curtain falling after bows Gangnam Style starts playing and the whole cast does the entire dance, and performing 3 shows of Chinese and 15 shows as the Cavalier.

On set - Itchiest beard ever!

4. During class onstage, a chipmunk snuck onstage through an open stage door. It ran amok around and through dancers feet for about 5 minutes. Never heard little girls scream so loud!

5. I swore I'd never mention this, but in the name of fun and good humor, performing in a dance film that was essentially Nutcracker mixed with Alice in Wonderland and a hint of Little Drummer Boy on acid. Think techno-Nutcracker music with elephants screaming in the background in the month of July. Shhhhhh...don't tell anyone I was ever in it!

6. Performing an open rehearsal in New York City at the 3-room studio/home of the 95 year old choreographer. Dressing room = pantry, lobby = bedroom/dining room, dance studio = dance studio.

Preparing for the live taping

7. After performing my solo on Alaska LIVE with Bernadette (#1 on this list), I immediately sat down to be interviewed live by Bernadette herself. When I sat in my stool, it immediately collapsed while somehow landing on the pole that held the seat up. I was able to balance the seat without it falling by squeezing my legs and pushing down as hard as I could. I did this for the entirety of the 4-minute interview. Lets just say that the crew applauded me when we went to commercial and my legs killed me for days afterwards.

8. Jumping into Neopolitan in Swan Lake with about 2 minutes notice that the original dancer had injured themselves at the end of the first act. Then the staff realizing there was nobody to perform my other part. I performed both parts in every show.

Stay tuned for a 12 days of Christmas inspired post in this 2-part blog series!

Surviving Nutcracker - Act like a professional, Think like a student

Jessica Tretter and me performing the Grand pas de deux w/ Rochester City Ballet (Photo: Kelsey Coventry)

Although it is Tuesday afternoon, today is the second day of my first two-day weekend in over a month. Time-wise, I am halfway through my Nutcracker season. Performance-wise, I am two thirds of the way through all of my shows. I have 18 shows of Cracked Christmas gloriousness this season and to be completely honest, Im ready to be finished. I am already Nutcracker-jaded from my 7 seasons with PNB, often dancing in more than 40 performances from Black Friday to New Year's Eve. Although, 18 shows is nothing compared to my time in Seattle, the main difference is that I am/have performed the leading male role (Cavalier) in 15 of 18 performances. That is a lot of dancing, partnering, warming up, choreography, etc. With the stress of all these factors, a handful of people have asked me how I keep it together during this time of the year. It is as simple as changing my professional mindset.

Rochester City Ballet's The Nutcracker

I have been blessed with the holiday gift of numerous offerings for Nutcracker work. In fact, I have turned down gigs or passed them on to friends at least 10 times, as I have been booked since the end of October. In total, I signed to work with 4 organizations this Nutcracker season. I began my sugar-plummed journey with the honor of being hired as a "principal guest artist" with Rochester City Ballet. After 3 weeks with the company, I flew back to Philly for less than a day and took a train down to Arlington, VA to perform with Ballet Nova. Tomorrow morning, I will be flying down to Myrtle Beach to perform with Coastal Youth Ballet Theatre. I will finish my Nutcracker tour where it all began for me, Chester Valley Dance Academy, in Lionville, PA. Along with the blessing of work, comes the curse of a freelancer. I am not traveling with a partner. Instead, I am being/have been brought in to dance with leading dancers in each company and school. This means that with each gig, I must perform completely different choreography to the exact same music every week for 4 weeks. My biggest concern has been keeping all of the choreography straight.

What is my trick to keeping the choreography straight? I'm still developing this strategy, but this is what has worked for me so far. I had rehearsals with two of the schools before I left for Rochester, so I had the opportunity to dabble with the choreography and put it in the back of my brain for safe keeping. Once I arrived in Rochester, I stopped focusing on my other gigs. For me, it is more important to focus on the task at hand, then to try to juggle what will be happening down the road fresh in my mind. I didn't study or rehearse any choreography that wasn't related to the Nutcracker that I was performing with RCB. I figured that I was less likely to forget or change the choreography if I focused on my current situation. When I was a student, I hadn't figured out the art of multitasking when it came to learning and retaining choreography. In order to keep things straight, I went back to my youthful ways and stayed on one track. Once I had completed my duties in Rochester, I hopped on a plane and began studying the DVD for my next gig. Although I hadn't reviewed the choreography since our one rehearsal as Hurricane Sandy was coming ashore, the base of the work was still somewhere in the back of my brain. I had just spent 72 hours listening to RCB's orchestra play the Nutcracker soundtrack on a loop that repeated 6 times,  but I had to endure the music to refresh my memory. Once I arrived in Arlington, we had a few refresher rehearsals and then knocked out 6 performances of my favorite holiday classic (note the sarcasm). My next gig will be the most challenging, as I have not rehearsed with the dancer and the choreography is quite different. After I finish that gig, it will be smooth sailing from there. I am reprising my role at the academy that I was raised at. Although we have barely rehearsed, the choreography will come back to me easily since I have performed it before.

Aside from retaining choreography, the biggest challenge for me is to remain excited throughout the multitude of performances (and if not, to at least give off the appearance that I am excited).  As I stated before, I am pretty Nutcracker jaded. Not only do I over-rehearse the role (even though I've already had 12 performances, two of my partners haven't rehearsed with me. This means that I have to rehearse from scratch 4 different times), but after rehearsals and shows I have to venture out into the real world to purchase gifts for family and friends. During my shopping trips, it never fails that Nutcracker music is being blasted on the speakers at malls and stores. And to make matters even worse, if I want to sit down and relax, the Russian Trepak and Sugar Plum Fairy variation play on TV for at least one ad during every commercial break. For me, it is 6 weeks of Groundhog Day.

The Eastman Kodak Theatre, Rochester, NY

Wherever I show up for my next set of performances, I have to somehow become excited for the opening of the production, care about the outcome, and be spirited about the upcoming performances. Again, I have to revert away from my professional way of thinking and remember how it felt as child performing in the Nutcracker. At my most recent gig, the entire cast (which included hundreds of students aged 4-18, their parents, and adult performers) was called into the green room for a pre-performance pep talk. This happened prior to each of the 6 shows. There were always spirited words, offerings of good luck, and smiling faces. At the end of each session, everybody held hands, threw their arms up in the air, and screamed NUTCRACKER at the top of their lungs. The first time this happened, I felt like I was going to throw up in my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was have a Nutcracker pow-wow and then exalt the Nutcracker gods. I went back into my dressing room and I had a long conversation with myself. I've spent ten years as a professional, surrounded mostly by professionals. All, or most (Jessika Anspach), of these professionals generally despise everything about Nutcracker outside of the fact that it paid our salaries for the rest of the year. So, to be surrounded by a bunch of overly excited students was a shock to my system. In my own personal conversation, I thought back to my first days with Nutcracker. This annual holiday performance was usually one of two or three opportunities that I would have all year to get onstage. Also, even if the theatre only seated 200 people and the audience only consisted of family, it felt like the biggest deal ever. Neither the president of the United States, nor the New York Times were present. But it still felt like everybody in the world was seeing it. Lastly, the Nutcracker is actually the reason that nearly everybody I know started dancing in the first place. My professional mind had become jaded to this, so I had to think with my student brain. With this knowledge, I was able to join the cast in their upcoming pre-show rituals and leave the room with a real smile after shouting Nutcracker.

Another place that I really struggle during the Nutcracker season is in taking class, warming up prior to every performance, and keeping each performance fresh. Even during my Nutcracker tenure with big companies, I found it hard to motivate myself each and every day. I already knew the choreography, my body was exhausted, and sometimes my roles didn't require using any flexibility that might require a warmup. I remember when I was a student, I wouldn't do anything without taking class at the beginning of my day or warming up. I would also go over the steps multiple times to be sure that I remembered the choreography. Today, I try to keep these practices with me. When I am performing, I make sure to take class every day. If class isn't available, isn't to my taste, or doesn't fit in my pre-performance schedule, I make sure to give myself a full barre and a healthy serving of center work. Then, I make sure that I do a mini-barre at least 20 minutes prior to my entrance onstage. To keep the performance fresh, I always go over the choreography prior to the show or at intermission. This helps to keep my brain from going on auto-pilot. It keeps my performance fresh and tricks my mind into thinking that this is a new piece for me. In the end, I believe that all of these things help to protect my body. Dancing without properly warming up can present wear and tear on the body and dancing on auto-pilot can lead to simple mistakes or injury.

Whether you are performing in 40 shows with one company or 20 shows at multiple venues, surviving Nutcracker can be a great challenge. Aside from remembering choreography, multiple performances in multiple settings can provide physical and mental challenges. When I was a student, I was excited for everything. As many of us professionals gain experience and grow older, we forget about the joy that Nutcracker brought to us and how it led many of us to performance careers. If we all remember what it felt like to be a student, we can help pull ourselves out of Nutcracker doldums, do our jobs well, and pull through the season healthy.

My Sugar Plum (Jessica Tretter) and me after our last show for Rochester City Ballet's Nutcracker