Life of a Freelance Dancer is a blog, journal, and tool for those who are interested in freelancing themselves, that want to know the ins and outs of freelance work, or are just curious about the life of a freelance dancer.
Hola mi amigos! I'm BACK!!!! I hope that you haven't missed me too much. At the moment, I'm flying high on a travel-bender sitting in the aeropuerto in Lima, Peru.
This isn't the first or second time I've been here in the past few
weeks. But it is definitely the longest period with my current layover
time queueing at 6 hours (only 2 more to go). Over the past 3 weeks, I
have bartered at ramshackle markets in horribly broken Spanish with
excessively wooing Peruvian ladies in Lima. I've experienced the short
and light-headed breathlessness of Soroche (or altitude sickness) that
walking only a few wildly tight, steeply climbing streets of
historically scenic Cusco, Peru can quickly bring on. Shortly after my
time in Peru, I was again fumbling through my Spanish to order enough
pisco sours to loosen up and dance among the locals at a club in
Santiago, Chile. Whether struggling through a conversation to purchase a
bus ticket to Valparaiso, Chile, navigating the Subte (subway) in
Buenos Aires, Argentina, or finding our way to the historical center of
Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay, my husband and I spent our amazing 3
week South American honeymoon utterly and uncomfortably out of our
comfort zones. But it was all worth it to make it to the centerpiece of
our journey, and to one of the new 7 Natural Wonders of the World, Machu
Picchu! I know you've missed me (or at least my posts ;-) ) over these past weeks, but I hope you
forgive me for my silence during our travels. And, even better.
There's a lesson here for all!
Exploring the historic Plaza de Armas of Cusco, Peru
These past few weeks of travel
have been full of fun, excitement, discomfort, frustration, unexpected
joy, utter submission, and much love. A flooding array of emotions and
challenges can accompany what sounds like a fun, daring adventure. But
with good intentions come hard lessons. Here, food poisoning from eating
at a questionable airport restaurant, exchanging money on a random
street that all the travel blogs wrote to go to in order to save big bucks on exchange rates (too
bad they stopped writing those blogs two years ago when these cambios, or cash houses,
became obsolete and...maybe...even illegal), or walking a few miles into
a sketchy neighborhood without any phone service or knowledge of
transportation out of there. But at the same time, watching an ancient
Inca site breathing through heavenly clouds, haggling a silkenly soft
alpaca sweater to the equivalent of $10 USD, seeing the most incredible
display of street art carved into the cutest city on earth, and standing
by your new spouse's side to share these experiences was well worth the
moments that thrust us anywhere but close to comfortable.
I
wanted to talk a bit about what I've been up to, and at the same time
create some relevant content for you guys. In my thought process while
prepping to write this piece, it clicked for me that it was time to talk
about getting out of our comfort zones. There are many ways to get out
of your comfort zone. For instance, I am an expert traveler. But only
when it comes to domestic travel within the United States. I haven't
been out of the country in 6 years as I've focused on building certain
aspects of my career. For me, I could have stayed comfortable and had my
honeymoon in the US. But that idea, while easy and relaxing, would have
been completely within my husband and my comfort zone. We threw around
the possibility of traveling somewhere international, but in a more
developed country with lavish, comfortable accommodations. This option would have
been slightly out of our comfort zone, but still offer us some ease of
mind and relaxation to celebrate our union. But if any of you have
gotten to know me over the years while reading Life of a Freelance Dancer, you know that
neither of those experiences are close to my style (nor my husbands).
Enjoying art in the Parque Esulturas in Santiago, Chile
When
Danya and I looked into honeymoon options, we were most excited by
traveling to places where there was a strong language barrier, where in
some places you can't even brush your teeth with the water, where people
asked to pose in pictures with me because they had never seen somebody
with green eyes before, and where there is the possibility that we may
find ourselves in potentially dangerous situations (nothing too crazy, right).
Why, you may ask, would a newlywed couple want to thrust themselves this
far out of their comfort zones on such an occasion as their honeymoon?
Because we thrive on experiences that force us to grow, force us to
question the way that we live our lives, and force us to open our minds
to the possibility of greater understanding (in many areas of of life) than we have today. I feel
this is a relevant lesson in life, society on a global scale, and even dance.
I remember back when I first fell in love with ballet. I
didn't know much about what I was doing, aside from the knowledge that
there was this amazing school where kids were selected to dance in the
mornings and afternoons (the School of American Ballet) and got to focus
on dance like I had been focusing on math and science. I also knew that I
was a little behind, but felt I might be able to catch up if I did
enough research and worked my ass off. I pulled open the January 2000
issue of Dance Magazine and decided to ask if I could audition for the
summer intensives I had found with either the biggest ads or in the biggest cities
(because, ya know, the bigger the city or the bigger the ad, the better the company?). I
was lucky to have a supportive family and an even more supportive
teacher and school director to help me follow my uncultivated dream. I
jumped into the deep-end fast, and nobody stopped to second guess my
ambition. And I guess a lot hasn't changed since then.
Enjoying the centerpiece of our honeymoon, Machu Picchu
After all
of my summer intensive auditions that year, even as a male, I had only
been accepted to a small handful of the programs I applied for
(practically none with scholarship). One that gave me a minor
scholarship and really stood out to me was Houston Ballet Academy. I had also
received a full-ride to the now defunded Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts,
where my mom was an alumni in their vocal department. Obviously, after
her experience there, I was given a gentle, but clear push to go where
the money was because I was almost guaranteed a lot of attention
(especially being a male dancer) and my mom knew I would have a positive
experience there.
But in typical Barry fashion, I had my eyes
set on jumping into a pool of water with no definitive bottom. At the
time, I just did it. But I can explain this decision more clearly now. I
innately knew that there were two ways to grow as a person; in small, safe
building steps or in one fell swoop with great potential for success or
failure. I made the choice to put a lot of money on one number, instead
of buying a handful of inexpensive scratch tickets from the lottery.
Dancing thru a tour of Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires
Looking
back, I feel I did this for a good reason. If I went to the Governor's
School, I would be exposed to something slightly comfortable and
something slightly unknown. I would slowly begin developing a new taste for
different styles of training. From there, I could slowly build to the
next step. Going to Houston Ballet Academy for the summer, I had no idea
what I was getting myself into. Nobody I knew had attended the program
previously, but I had heard positive things about it through
the grapevine during auditions and from the company's very limited
internet presence (remember, it was the early days of the internet).
Something told me that I needed to be in an environment that I didn't
understand, that tested my belief system, and that showed me a new way
of looking at the world, only here it was the ballet world. I truly
believe that this first risk I took in my career, before it was even a
career, changed the trajectory of my life and was a major turning point
in getting where I have been, where I am, and where I am going.
There is so much to learn from putting oneself out there in multiple
different aspects of their lives, especially as an artist. It is the job
of an artist to offer unexplored perspectives to audiences for acceptance,
discomfort, and expansion of their own values and life experiences. If one doesn't
want to push themselves outside of their own comfort zone, it is our
responsibility to share our experiences and challenge them to grow. In
life, we are often presented with three different options. Ones that allow zero growth,
little growth, and great growth. Those choices that often offer the
greatest growth can be the most painful, challenging, and uncomfortable experiences. Like a caterpillar
bursting out of its cocoon as a butterfly or like a mother giving birth
to a child, these experiences are likely very frightening and often
painful. But the rewards from stepping into the unknown, discomfort and pain in growth, and expansion of mind, self, and being
can reap benefits, rewards, and joy that couldn't be understood or experienced in one's life
otherwise.
Taking in standing atop the amazingness that is Cusco, Peru
An image of me up on the Steps on Broadway board (Photo: Shalem Photography)
I've been enjoying my time
teaching at Steps on Broadway the past few weeks. I've had professionals
in my classes from big companies to freelancers, received positive
feedback from my peers and pianists, and felt a sense of
fulfillment in my career that I've been lacking for some time. (Side note: I'm also guest teaching Intermediate Contemporary at Broadway Dance Center the next two Sundays, August 7 & 14, from 7:30-9 PM. Come join me) Recently,
an old acquaintance offered me their compliments expressing how difficult
it can be to break into an established institution like this great
school. This got me thinking. While I still have a lot to do in order to
get to where I want to be, it took a lot of hard, strategic work to gain
the positions and experience I have had in my career. It has been a
combination of effort, luck, and timing. But none of this stuff would
have ever been possible if I hadn't figured out how and when to put my
information out there most effectively.
There are a handful of
challenges when it comes to putting yourself out there. First off, are
you properly prepared to put out your best product? Also,
are you following the appropriate channels of communication to get an
"in" with a choreographer or director? Other things to consider include
whether offering yourself up with less experience will invalidate future
attempts to obtain work, if you have enough time to put true effort
into your endeavors if the opportunity materializes, and whether the timing is
right for you to push yourself out and forward in your career field. When thrusting
oneself out of their comfort zone, all
of these things need to be taken into consideration in order to build or better one's career and life.
The first thing to consider when pushing
yourself in a new direction is whether you are properly
prepared to accept the position if it actually offered it; whether it be trying out for that big
Broadway show, seeking out a company class audition, or applying for that
prestigious teaching position. We all
have big dreams and career hopes. But if you aren't in a place to fully
commit to and appropriately handle the work stresses that come with a
specific job, it may not be the best time for you to apply for that position or audition for a new company or show. Especially for dancers, this
can be a challenging one since you don't always know what you're
getting yourself into until you're in the studio or on the stage. It is
important to consider your training, attitude, mindset, and commitment
abilities when putting oneself out there. You don't want to get the job
before you're mentally or physically ready and fall apart. But at the
same time, you don't want to hold yourself back if you are lacking confidence. It's a tricky line to consider.
Walking into Broadway Dance Center to teach my first Contemporary class at this amazing school
You also don't want
to apply for a position that you probably can't fit into your schedule
due to previous commitments. This can be especially tricky
because dancers should constantly be auditioning to fine-tune their
audition skills, to connect with those hiring, and to get an idea of
whether they are ready to take on certain posts. Don't be afraid to
attend a cattle call. But if you really don't feel prepared for a
specific position, it may be better to wait until you can show yourself
at your best. Especially if you are very out of shape after an injury or time off, consider whether the chance to gain opportunity may risk further injury. Sometimes, people will remember you from application to
application. So, be sure to keep in mind that auditioning for a gig
completely unprepared may leave a lasting impression.
A misstep
that a handful of dancers, choreographers, and instructors make is
trying to use an acquaintance that is already involved in an
organization to help you gain easier access to the people making decisions. This is a tricky one, as it sometimes works. But some of my most
embarrassing memories are when I have tried to take the easy road and
reached out to somebody I met once or twice. In trying to get an
insider's advantage in my applications/auditions, I have overstepped social boundaries. If this way of putting yourself out there doesn't work
to your favor, the next time you see this contact may be quite awkward.
If you barely know somebody and you want them to put in a good word for
you or to forward your information to the person in charge, it could be
seen as shady or show a general lack of awareness for the structure and
culture of an organization. Sometimes, companies are very disjointed
with a clear delineation between positions. For instance, a ballet
master may be higher up in the system than a dancer and closer to the Artistic
Director of a company. But they still answer to the director as their
boss. So, it may not be appropriate (or even possibly offensive) for them to
offer their advice on items including hiring, choreographic
opportunities, and more. Again, this way of putting oneself out there
has worked for me in the past. Just understand that you are taking a
hearty risk by reaching out to someone for help that you barely know.
The
biggest item out of your control when putting yourself out there is
timing. It is true. Timing is everything. Sometimes, it is calculated
and other times you have no idea that now is the right time. This is
what is most difficult about making decisions pertaining to your career and seeking success. An artist may not feel ready for something
they are more than prepared to take on. Or, on the other hand, they may
feel that they are the one and only fit for a position that will end up
being far out of their reach. This is the one factor you can count on
being confusing and out of your control. But don't let the idea of
proper timing deter you from trying to reach your dreams. The timing factor almost invalidates many of the points I wrote above. If you put yourself
out there with the right timing (even if you aren't prepared, don't have
the time, or more), you can get a dream job and prove all of these
factors inconsequential.
Dancers, choreographers, instructors,
and most artists have a tendency to listen to the nag of never-ending
feelings of inadequacy. This can often push their art to new heights as
they try to make up for this faux perception. But if your gauge and
perception of true self-worth is off, you may be stifling opportunity. I suggest taking a deep,
lengthy look at yourself. Then see your reflection in friends, colleagues, and peers reactions to your work. In the end, I
always say artists should continuously put themselves out there.
So, don't read this post and feel like you should be holding back. I
hope you read this and look at it as a tool to help you make better,
more informed decisions. Cheers!
I started writing this post back in July while creating at the National Choreographers Initiative, but quickly got distracted by the intensity of the choreographic process. It has been awhile since I posted, as I have been swamped while working the past few weeks in Anchorage, Alaska. While it is a few months since I started writing this blog, I feel that this topic is very relevant and hasn't been addressed much. So, I'd like to share. Enjoy!
National Choreographers Initiative dancers taking company class onstage
Back in October, I posted the rules of taking open class while prepping to dance with Barak Ballet in Los Angeles. Nine months later, I am back in the LA area having a completely different experience working as a choreographer for the National Choreographers Initiative. Each of us four choreographers have been offered the opportunity to teach company class for the professionals that have been brought in for this 3-week choreographic laboratory. I love teaching, so I happily took the director up on her offer. Having spent my first hour and a half on the other side of company class and digesting my vast experience taking class in an array of company cultures through freelancing has inspired me to gather a list of general rules for company class from both the teacher's side and the professional's side.
- Company class is a time for dancers to warmup their bodies and to improve their technique. This should generally be on their own terms. Some days a dancer is exhausted and just needs to wake their body up. Other days, a dancer may not have much rehearsal or may be understudying much of the day. During these periods, a pro may use class to push their technique to the next level. Company class is not an equal effort day to day.
- Company class instructors should approach class from an external perspective. Warmup should be approached very differently than classes that would be given to academy students. Yes, professionals need to be pushed, corrected, and kept on task. But company class should be nothing about the instructor and all about the dancers.
- It can be really effective for an instructor to offer combinations that relate to the work that is being prepared for performance. This offers the dancers an opportunity to perfect challenging sequences in choreography.
- Expectations of a dancer in company class should be very individual. If there is not a developed relationship with a group of dancers, it can be rude to make assumptions about why a dancer is acting a certain way in class. If a dancer changes my combination, I am assuming that they are making an important decision for themselves. Back to the first rule in this post, some dancers may be tired or hurting. Company class is a vehicle for the rest of the rehearsal day. Their is often an assumption that dancers must take class like they are students until they retire. Do every combination 100%, even if it doesn't feel good on your body. Of course, it is the dancer's responsibility to remain reasonable about their choices. For instance, if my back is sore from my recent injury, I may not perform arabesques or attitudes derriere in adagio or grand battements at barre. I am not being lazy. I am being smart about my body and extending the length of my career by making an educated decision to leave a combination out.
(My mom sneaked video taking company class at PNB circa 2008)
- Apprentices and less experienced professionals should approach company class like they approached school class. It takes time to develop an understanding of what your body needs. I didn't start altering my approach to company class until I had my first injury three years into my career. At that point, I recognized that overworking any position in arabesque may be more detrimental to my dancing than beneficial.
- Instructors should try their own combinations with the music to make sure that the tempo is comfortable, doable, and what they imagined the exercise to be. To speak and hear a combination versus executing a combination is a very different experience.
- If a dancer is entering class with an established company, they should ask other dancers if they can stand in any specific barre spot before claiming space. If there aren't many spots available and you are waiting for dancers to show up and claim their regular spot, wait away from the barre until the instructor walks in. Typically, somebody will point you in the right direction of a dancer's place that isn't in attendance.
- I strongly believe that those who teach class should still be taking class. I find that I teach much better when I am checking in with my body and reminding myself what it feels like to dance.
- If you are going to leave class early, you should always give the teacher a wave as you leave. To walk up and thank the teacher directly, as you would at the end of class, interrupts the flow for those who are continuing with class. Quietly grab your stuff, walk to the door, and wait for the teacher to acknowledge your exit.
- Generally, new or auditioning dancers should pay attention to the hierarchy of individuals in a class. If a dancer has been with the company for many years or is a Principal dancer, let them dance where they want to dance in center. Some dancers could care less about hierarchy, but some are very particular about this order.
- It is the instructors job to be sensitive about when to push dancers in class. I am a dancer that always appreciates corrections. As I stated before, some dancers just want to warm up and focus on their technique in rehearsals. If an instructor feels that a dancer is being lazy, then they can bring that up outside of class and try to push a dancer to work harder. One common error I see is that instructors make judgements about dancers that they barely know. A dancer that is altering a combination or skipping a combination is not necessarily a lazy dancer. Only when their is a developed relationship between a teacher and a professional is it fair to make a judgement.
- Teachers that don't teach to their ego are generally the most respected teachers.
- Do offer corrections to technique, but be careful when offering corrections in style. Once a dancer becomes a professional, for instance, they are very unlikely to change certain parts of their dancing. For instance, if a dancer takes their pirouette preparation from a straight back leg, they may not be willing to execute this from a bent back leg. If they have figured out how to execute a beautiful pirouette from one position, why force them to change it unless it is for choreography that requires unison.
- This is a pet peeve of mine, not necessarily a definitive rule. It is merely a suggestion. Professionals generally don't need to be given specific combinations for plies and stretching. Plies should be about telling the body that class is beginning and stretching should be about limbering your own individual needs. If a dancer doesn't know how to execute these on their own, they probably shouldn't be professionals. I tend to shut down if I am given an extravagant plie combination.
- In most companies that I have danced, it is generally acceptable to wear what you wish for class. When dancers are forced to wear a dress code or to take off their warmups, I have found that dancers are generally treated with a lower level of respect in those workplaces.
- Instructors should learn to trust the dancers that they are teaching in their decisions. There is not often enough trust in dancers to make their own decisions.
- This is kind of a given. It is more common for dancers to talk in company class, whether catching up with a friend or discussing choreography for a later rehearsal. While it is ok to chat here and there, don't be disrespectful and talk throughout all of center. Show the instructor respect and offer your attention for a majority of class.
- One rule that I am a big advocate of is to support your fellow dancers. If somebody executes a major feat, show your appreciation. I'm also one of the first people to start clapping to the beat when a dancer accidentally ends up having a solo across the floor. Comaraderie and support go a long way in a difficult and competitive career.
- It is acceptable to miss company class here and there if your body really needs a break. Don't make a habit of missing class. If there is an instructor whose class you don't mesh well with, try to find a way to take another class to warm up, like open or academy classes.
- Now that you are a professional, don't approach class like you know everything. There is always something else you can learn.
- While most unionized companies don't require dancers to attend company class, keep in mind that this is more of a technicality than a pass to miss class. Beyond that, a great deal of casting, especially for incoming choreographers, takes place during class.
Company class can be a blur (PNB company class onstage circa 2004)
- This is my own personal rule. I feel that company class, whether for a classical or contemporary company, should still be a classical ballet class. Ballet is the basis for most technical dance. When company class starts turning into an instructor's interpretation of a mix of classical and contemporary styles, dancer technique will suffer. Keep class as class.
- Whether you like the class or not, always thank the instructor and pianist after class. It is in our culture to clap at the end of class. If you really loved class, hoot and holler. Walk up to the pianist and shake their hand. Walk up to the instructor and say thank you. Instructors appreciate applause and recognition as much as dancers do. Most of them still are or once were in your position.
Alright. Alright. I turned 30 a few weeks ago. I'm lucky that I still look like I'm in my mid-twenties (or so people have told me), even though I have stepped quietly into my thirties. When revealing my age to other dancers over the past few years, I have been encouraged to lie about my age multiple times. "Why would you tell me the truth when you could easily lie down a few years." While I couldn't imagine telling people I was 25, it does make one consider if age is really that important in dance. Why does it matter if you still look and dance young.
Blowing out candles on my 30th birthday
During the weeks leading up to my mid-October birthday, I slowly spiraled into a bit of a depression. I was, mostly, in denial about the reasoning, but what it came down to was that I wouldn't be home on my birthday, my partner wouldn't be joining me in Los Angeles due to financial constraints, and I had told myself for years that I wanted to dance until I am at least 30. As the day got closer, I became more anxious, stressed, and low. Then, the day came. My host family made me feel special, my new friends made me feel cared about, my phone and Facebook exploded with love, and I was in the studio rehearsing for a show that I was excited to perform. The day came and the day passed. And I was left with a comfortable feeling in my chest. It really wasn't that big of a deal. So, why did I freak out about turning 30?
The number one fear of every single dancer is that their career will end today. We know it will end, but we don't know when. How will I go? Will I get bored? Will I have a traumatic fall? Will my body start giving out? Will I get fired and not find another job? Or will I get to choose when I go and how I go? The reality of it all? Who knows. And while we are enjoying a career in a field that is nearly impossible to become a part of, more often than not, we are trying to put off the imminent end, one plie and day at a time. We have all heard stories of harsh endings to a promising career. Most of us professionals have stood behind a fellow dancer as they take their final bow. The end is almost always bittersweet, but more often bitter and less often sweet. With all of this said, the age 30 represents a lot to many dancers.
During the summer of 2003, I transitioned from student to professional. A week before I left home to start my career with Houston Ballet, I got some very wise advice from a teacher that had just left Miami City Ballet at the age of 24. She told me to stay away from negative dancers. Her advice continued, "There will always be dancers who bitch and complain about anything and everything. If you hang out with them, even if you feel positive about work, they will bring you down and, eventually, you may start to feel the same way." This was some of the most valuable advice I ever received. And with that advice, I set a goal for myself. I want my career to outlast her impressive, but short 6-year career. Once I hit 24, I had to set a new goal because I still felt I had a lot of time. After some thought, I decided that my next marker would be the age of 30. My mentor and childhood dance teacher danced until she was 30. It seemed an obvious age to strive and reach towards. Once I hit 30, I should feel content and successful. Right?
Dancing Mercutio at 26 w/ James Moore (Photo: Angela Sterling)
When I was 26 years old, I went in for my annual artistic evaluation with the director of Pacific Northwest Ballet, Peter Boal. These contractually-obligated, yearly meetings are a time to get some feedback and to give some feedback. Peter asked me how old I was. When I said that I was 26, he nodded and smiled. "Yes. Yes. You have a few years left in you." All in all, I think Peter was trying to pay me a compliment. But immediately my insecurities about the imminent end of my career kicked in. What was he trying to say? In my vocabulary, few means 3. Did he just mark me with an
expiration date? How dare he say that. Is he going to fire me when I turn 30? At the beginning of the next season, I decided I would leave the company at the end of that season. There were a few other factors involved, but I honestly think that this one, simple comment stayed with me and was a major factor in my decision to go. I was sure that I would be pushed out of the company by the time I was 30, so I felt that I needed to leave to give myself a chance to continue dancing beyond that.
During my audition tour, I found a mixed bag of responses in my efforts to obtain a new job. I just spent 7 years dancing with one of the top companies in the country, where I had danced a handful of leading roles. Shouldn't everyone want to get a hold of me? What I found during my tour was that there is a lot more to hiring a dancer than their ability, potential, and/or notoriety. Older dancers are more experienced and they expect to be compensated for that time put in. We are more expensive. And, yes, I was an older dancer at the age of 27. Also, if a dancer goes to an AGMA company after already having danced for one, they can not be demoted. They must enter the company at the same or higher rank than they previously were with their former company. Beyond this, when a student is being hired into a company, they are, most often, hired purely on their potential. When a company contracts a more experienced dancer, they are less likely to hire a dancer for their potential and more likely to hire them if they know they are planning on moving them forward in the company. There are few mid-career dancers hired with the thought that they may be a valuable corps member or that they may have the potential to grow into a higher ranked dancer. For some of these reasons, it was very difficult for me to find a job as a middle-aged dancer.
Although I had a lot of disheartening realizations during my audition tour, there was one moment that really struck me. I have always been interested in the contemporary side of dance. One of my audition stops, which frightened me more than any other, was auditioning for Hubbard Street Dance Chicago. This was way out of my comfort zone and knowledge of the dance world. After taking class for a few days and learning a bit of repertoire, I sat down to speak with the artistic director, Glenn Edgerton. Glenn told me that he saw a lot of potential in me and thought if I got more contemporary work under my belt and came back to audition, that I might be a good candidate for the company. Following this, he asked me the same question that had been posed to me a year prior, "How old are you?" I stated my age and Mr. Edgerton quickly responded, "Oh good. You still have plenty of time." I was taken aback. For the last year, I was convinced that my career would be dead by the age of 30. This conversation gave me hope then and it gives me hope today.
As we all know, soon after this audition tour, I took a job in Philadelphia, which eventually led to me freelancing full-time. I've discussed in previous blog posts that it can become easy to live in a state of fear that your career is coming to an end when freelancing. Mine has continued through my late twenties all of my own making. And it is wildly stressful and taxing. So, as my 30th birthday approached, I started to think. "Well, my goal was to dance until I am 30. And this past year was successful, but emotionally and financially straining. How much longer can I do this? Is this it? Is this the goal I'm reaching where there won't be a next goal?" This conversation started playing itself over and over again in my head. And it is a very dangerous conversation to be having. Fortunately and unfortunately, the conversation stopped when the clock hit October 14th and I entered into middle-aged/older-aged dancer territory.
What I have learned since that day is pretty obvious to everyone and everything that doesn't exist inside my head. Nothing has changed. I am still dancing. I still want to dance. I didn't hit 30 and know the exact date of the death of my dance career. I still take class every day. My body didn't instantaneously begin to fall apart like Cinderella's attire when the clock hit midnight. I still look for the next job. I still have hopes, dreams, and aspirations as a dancer. I do feel a bit wiser and that I can truly share that wisdom based off of experience. I think it is best to say I am a more experienced dancer than an older one. I know that full-time freelancing needs to slowly turn into part-time freelancing, as I really miss having a sense of home, focus, and regularity. But that doesn't mean that my career is slowing down. It just means that it needs to focus back into company/long-term gig work (maybe Broadway). But the most interesting realization I have had is this. While I have always been a person to set a marker to reach, I haven't this time around. I don't want to worry about working towards dancing until I'm 40. If I reach that goal, I will feel successful. But if I don't, I will likely be disappointed. I would love it if I'm still healthy, happy, and dancing professionally at 40. But this time around, I don't need to set another goal to feel successful if I reach it. I have been successful and I am successful at what I do and love.
With all of this said, I leave my readers with this amazing quote from Houston Ballet's former physical therapist, Cody Brazos. One of the dancers in the company broke her foot in class after landing awry in a saut de chat. While crying in pain and panicking that her career was ending, Cody calmly looked this dancer in the eyes and said, "There is no timeline to a dance career."
There is life in dance after 30 (w/Ellen Green after the launch of Barak Ballet)
A new option for my bio (Photo: Shalem Photography)
It is very difficult to market oneself as a dancer. We freelance dance artists are essentially the rebels of dance. The most common avenue to a professional career is to attend auditions or workshops to obtain a company contract. Freelancers may be seeking that, but for the most part they are looking for the next job. I have been asked to attend auditions to get freelancing gigs in the past, but turned down those possibilities of work because it isn't cost effective to pay for travel and accommodations for a potential 3 to 6 week job. For this reason, it is important that I remain a presence on the radar of companies and choreographers across the country. This isn't as simple as it sounds, especially since I don't want to send out the same template email, photographs, and footage each time I recontact an employer. Appearing as a fresh prospect, even if it is your fourth time contacting a company, takes a lot of time and a great deal of thinking outside the box.
I would say that I have contacted a majority of the numerous professional ballet companies and a handful of contemporary companies across the country at least once. While most of the emails I send out are ignored, a handful respond with, "we'll be in contact with you," or, "we would like to discuss using
you." Most of those that speak of getting back in contact with me never
do. Usually, it is only a company that has an immediate need that will respond. Just because a company didn't contact you doesn't mean that they didn't review your materials. It also doesn't mean that their needs haven't changed. It is the beginning of a new season and many companies are figuring out
what they have and what their needs will be for the rest of their season. Also of note, just because a company says that they will keep your info on file if the need arises, doesn't mean that they will remember to contact you when that need does arise. For this reason, it is important to continue sending your information
out to remind employers that you are still an available resource when
needed. The only thing is that you don't want to appear to be the exact same person with the exact same experience each time you send your information. Dancers are built on the foundation that you must continue to grow and improve. How do you reinvent your marketing tools with limited material?
One of the most important items in your toolbox of marketing materials is your performance reel (You can check out this older post on how to create your own reel). Without any footage of your performance abilities, it will be difficult to obtain a job without going to a live audition or relying on word-of-mouth. As a freelancer, there may be times where you perform in a handful of works that you have easy access to footage from those performances. At other times, you may be working a great deal, but the performances aren't filmed. For instance, I was really hoping to get footage of myself performing as the Sugar Plum Fairy's Cavalier with Rochester City Ballet last season. But due to union rules with the orchestra that was accompanying the production, they weren't allowed to film the performances. Even if you have limited access to footage, your reel doesn't have to remain without an update for years at a time. I have set a loose rule for myself that I will update my reel every 6, or so, months. Not only does this give me an opportunity to add additional footage, but it gives me a chance to feel out what is working in enticing employers or when it isn't reading as effectively as I had hoped.
This past season, I had the wonderful opportunities to dance with Rochester City Ballet, Alaska Dance Theatre, Festival Ballet Providence, in the Philly Fringe Festival, and in a choreographic workshop of a piece that may potentially be Broadway-bound. Of all of these performances, I was only able to obtain footage from two of these organizations. Albeit the limited footage I had access to this past season, the film that I could get my hands on was plentiful. Last week, I sat on my couch and reviewed my previous 3 or 4 reels, evaluating what I did well and what could be improved upon. What I found was that all of my reels took clips of footage that were between 15 and 60 seconds long, which added up to anywhere from 7 to 10 minutes long. While I am proud of these reels, I realize that a potential employer that only watched the first minute or two of the reel would be missing out on the variety of dance works and styles that I excel at dancing. I needed to reinvent my approach to creating my reel and, so far, it seems to be working.
In creating my new reel, I decided that I should take smaller clips of my dancing and fuse them together into one work. What I like to call "highlights." Keeping the original music to these pieces would not be effective, since the music would change every few seconds. I started my 20-something hours of editing by seeking a piece of music that was interesting, but lacked any compelling vocal or moments that would draw you into the music. I wanted the focus to be on my dancing and not on the track that was playing. After finding a piece of music that fit the bill, I started by pulling all of the footage I had that showed me off at my best. I slowly began whittling down the hour of footage and finding moments in the choreography that were exciting or intriguing. This was a challenging process since it can be difficult to differentiate between something that looks great versus something that you had a special emotional attachment to performing. In the end, I was very happy with what I created. Not only do I feel that my new reel shows me in my best light. I feel that I have found a completely different way of showing employers what I can do. When I contact a company for the third time, they will likely recognize some of the footage. But they will be less likely to overlook me as a dancer that they have already seen and more likely to look at my new, fresh packaging.
Beyond recreating a reel every 6 months, I try to keep my resume and photos updated as well. It is much simpler to keep these fresh as your career flies by. Try to be patient with your photographs. The biggest temptation when you receive a brand new photo that shows off all of the hard work you've put in is to immediately post it to your Facebook, Instagram (Follow me), or website. Take one or two of these photos and satisfy your social-media urges. But hold a few back for future usage. If all of your photos are out there and you haven't been performing anywhere that has a photographer, you are going to run out of fresh material. These items are new even if they are 6 months old. That is if you don't show them to anybody. As for your resume, I would avoid any attempts to greatly change your format unless you see a friend's CV that you think would be an improvement. While you want to show that you've moved forward within your reel and photos, you want your resume to be easy to read and recognizable.
Me partnering Elizel Long (Photo: Shalem Photography)
The final way that one can reinvent themselves is to find new ways to put oneself out there. Try a new style. Change your look. Find new ways of getting exposure. Show your talents that aren't necessarily dance-related, but that define you as an artist. Make yourself compelling. I've said this before and I'll say it a million times. It is rarely the artist with the best technique that moves forward in the world of dance. It is most often the most competent artist who is most compelling to the general population that moves to the front of the stage and the forefront of people's memories. Don't change who you are to reinvent yourself, but do change your way of thinking. Those who are able to make themselves compelling will make themselves the most hire-able. The best way to remain compelling is to continuously reinvent yourself. It is always reinvention that brings people back to an old, reliable product!
Performing Western Symphony by George Balanchine (photo: Rex Tranter)
I'm very excited for this next post. Recently, I asked Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre Apprentice, Casey Taylor, to write a post about her story as a freelancer. Casey's story is unique. Unlike most talented dancers that come out of the country's leading ballet schools, she didn't get a full-time company contract or move on from ballet to pursue non-ballet passions. I was pretty surprised that she wasn't offered a job with Pacific Northwest Ballet, considering her strength and versatility. Even though she didn't get a job with any company during her audition year, she really had immense drive and will to find full-time work.
I first saw Casey during my 6th season with PNB. She came into the school with the ideal PNB look, long and tall. Her feet and legs are beautifully shaped and she has great versatility in style. Most Professional Division students at PNBS spend two years in the program. These students don't often get recognized by company members until their second year in the program. For some reason, most of the company knew who Casey was by Nutcracker time her first year in the school. During her second year in the school, she really exploded in confidence and strength as a student. It was quite obvious that she would easily find a job. But hard economic times and her height may have worked against her. Still, Casey pushed on to succeed as a professional dancer. We shared a few facebook conversations, filled with advice and words of encouragement during the year-long period before she was offered a job with PBT. Read below to hear about Casey's freelancing experiences and how they eventually led her to get that company contract she had always dreamed of getting.
Performing A Piece in P-I-E-C-E-S by Kiyon Gaines (photo: Rex Tranter)
My gigs
all came about in different fashions. In Dresden, I was sent over as part of an
exchange program put in place between the schools affiliated with Pacific Northwest
Ballet and Dresden Semperoper Ballet. I was finishing up my second and final
year in the professional division at PNBS and was offered the opportunity to
spend a month in Dresden with the company. I was unaware until I got to Germany
that I would be performing "Swan Lake" with the company. It was a great surprise.
One of their corps dancers had recently gotten injured and I was available and
was asked to fill her place in the white swan corps. I performed in four shows
while I was there.
For
my job as a guest performer in Pennsylvania Ballet’s "The Nutcracker," I
contacted the company myself to see if they had openings in the corps that they
needed to fill. I heard from other dancers that I met in Dresden and from
friends currently dancing with Pennsylvania Ballet, that the company usually
hires out extra dancers for "The Nutcracker." So, I contacted the assistant to the
artistic director and arranged an audition. A few weeks after I auditioned, I
was informed I was hired.
Lastly,
I finished out my freelancing season with the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre. Pittsburgh is my
home, so it was where I was living (at my parents house) inbetween jobs. I
returned home in January after finishing Nutcracker and was taking class at the
studios to stay in shape until I found my next gig. One day the artistic
director asked me to meet with him. He offered me a contract for the remainder
of the season to fill an extra contract space that was left vacant by a dancer
who was too injured to finish out the season and retired.
Fooling around in Dresden, Germany
My
experiences were nothing short of fantastic! My time in Dresden is something I
will never forget because it was such a different way of living and working. In
America, the American Guild of Musical Artists (AGMA) mandates the number of hours per day dancers can
work and how often they are required to have a break; every hour there is a
5-minute break. In Europe, there was no such thing. The rehearsals would
sometimes go two or three hours with no break. Another aspect I wasn’t used to
was the limited amount of rehearsal time we had to put Swan Lake together. European companies usually have three or four programs
that they will perform on and off for a few months at a time. This means that
rehearsals can be quite varied and not often. Before I stepped onstage as a
swan, we had run the ballet non-stop only one or two times (As opposed to the
week or two of full-length rehearsals I was accustomed to in the US). This
meant that I really had to be much more focused and use time on my own to go
over things and solidify the steps and counts. It taught me to be
very independent and take control of the situation, which included rehearsing and reviewing the
material myself. I was responsible for making sure I was comfortable
enough to go out and perform because there weren’t weeks of rehearsals to
lock it into my muscle memory. As a side note, I had a wonderful time living in
Germany and getting to experience the different culture and leading a more
European lifestyle.
Harrison Monaco & Casey on tour with PA Ballet in Ottawa
In
Philadelphia, I had a much different experience. I was back in America, living
in my best friend’s apartment, and dancing a ballet that I have performed
nearly every year of my life. The only loophole was that I had to learn all new
choreography. I arrived in Philadelphia a little over a month before
performances were to begin and right away was in rehearsals learning my new
roles. The rehearsals were back to the structure that I was accustomed to, so I
knew what to expect and what was expected of me. I learned and performed three
different "corps de ballet" roles. One of the most exciting parts of my gig with
the Pennsylvania Ballet was touring with the company to perform "The Nutcracker"
in Ottawa, Canada. It really helped me bond with my new “family” of dancers and
also get the experience of what it is like to go on tour with a ballet company.
It
is hard for me to think of my few months last season with the Pittsburgh Ballet
Theatre as a gig because I am now a full member of the company. When I signed
my contract for those few months of work last season, there was no promise of getting a job for the following season. But due to the combination of hard work put in to show how much I wanted a job and the availability of a
contract, I was lucky enough to be offered a spot in the company! Joining the
company on my own in the middle of the season was nothing short of intimidating
for me. Particularly, if you take into account that I have watched this company
for years while I grew up attending the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre School. I
looked up to so many of the dancers and now I was becoming one of them. The first
ballet I performed with the company was John Neumeier’s "A Streetcar Named Desire."
This was the first time that PBT (or any American company) performed this
ballet. John Neumeier himself, along with two assistants, came to Pittsburgh
to set the ballet on the company. I must’ve made a great impression on him
because, before I knew it, I was getting cast in small featured roles. This was a
huge deal for me. It felt like my first time to shine and prove myself as a
professional and no way was I going to let that go to waste. I used that
wonderful opportunity to show that I was serious and how much I wanted that
contract for the next season. Following "Streetcar," I also performed in
"Coppelia." A few weeks before the season ended, after the rest of the company
returned their contracts and I had traveled around the country to several auditions, I was handed that contract I had been dreaming about. One of the
happiest moments of my life.
For the time being, my life as
a freelance dancer is over. I am now an official company
member of the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre. That’s not to say that I won’t return to
freelancing one day. But, for right now, I am thrilled with where I am. For some
people, making connections and branching out comes very naturally. But I don’t
feel like it does to me. It has always been my dream to dance in a ballet company and
work my way up through the ranks. I am so excited that I am living my dream and
am still amazed every day that I am.
Casey's advice to freelance dancers:
Don’t ever
give up. If dancing is something you are truly passionate about, be sure you make that apparent in your work ethic and artistry. People will notice.
Once you begin to make yourself known and make a name for yourself,
opportunities will come more easily. At times, it may seem that there are no
options for work, but things can change so quickly. Be very conscious of sites
that post auditions or work opportunities and don’t be afraid to reach out to
fellow dancers to ask questions. We are all in this profession together. Each
and every one of us knows how hard it is to get a job and you would be
surprised how many dancers are more than willing to help out by giving you
advice or making contacts on your behalf.
