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)

Summer Break

A month ago, a close friend since my time at the School of American Ballet suggested the idea that I begin to slow down my work here on Life of a Freelance Dancer. When the words left his lips, I nodded my head as I listened. But I was hardly in agreement as my nod may have suggested. My initial reaction was to internally scoff at the idea. But the seed had been planted and the timing ironic. Something is wrong with my blog and it all started about a year ago. Online bots and crawlers flooded my pages with thousands of views a day, essentially erasing all data I was using to judge what content was relevant and wanted versus personal and unhelpful. When this happened, I used a certain line of code in an attempt to interrupt these false views. It took nearly four months for my data to normalize. But in the process, I forgot that I had input that code. Then, a glaring and shocking reminder struck me about a month ago. Google stopped referring all traffic to Life of a Freelance Dancer (which is the job of a few of the crawlers that weren't spamming me), bringing viewership down to numbers I haven't seen since the first months of posting on here. Timing is everything, and with my friend's suggestion, an overwhelming summer schedule, and my first bout of crippling writer's block setting in, I began to struggle with my purpose in continuing to write beyond my vast plethora of 190 posts.

Fast forward to this week. As I have mentioned on here before, I try to see a counselor (as I think everybody, especially in this crazy dance world, should) a few times a month to help me assess, manage, and live my best life. This week's solo session seemed pretty run of the mill. I had rehearsal for my new work with CelloPointe at New York Theatre Ballet until 2 pm, dashed to the Bolt Bus, and made it home just in time to stop by the gym before my appointment. I know this sounds abnormal, but abnormal has become my new normal. I walked into my appointment prepared to discuss a few things. One being a lack of motivation, which strongly included writing content on here. We had discussed slowing down my posting here the week prior and I was struggling with the idea. As we explored my reluctance to essentially "put the pen down" for the summer, I was caught extremely off-guard when I found myself in tears.

I have been through a lot since the inception of this blog. I began writing it depressed, scared, and injured at my first gig as a full-time freelancer after suffering one of the greatest traumas of my life. I've shared my story on here, I've documented my growth, I've shown my highs and lows, and I have expressed the deepest parts of my self and career for the world to read from the privacy of their own computers. This blog has changed my life. But more than anything, living the life of a freelance dancer, this journal has been the the only reliable, constant in my life since April of 2012 (other than my husband). When I hadn't been home for more than 7 weeks in 4 years, I had this outlet. When I felt like I had lost all of my friends to be successful and work enough to pay my bills, I had this platform to comfort myself and talk my way through it. When I chose to step off the stage, instead of having a final performance, I wrote about my experience on here. As I laughed through tears in this session exclaiming, "I can't believe I'm crying over a stupid blog," it all became clear that this has become more than just a computer screen and letters assembled into words into thoughts into posts. It has been a confidante, a shoulder to lean on, and a listening ear, even while alone in hotel rooms, eating by myself at airport restaurants, and sitting in other people's homes up to 4,000 miles away from my own home.

So, here we are today, as I sit in Lincoln Center across from the Metropolitan Opera House writing to all of you. I have only felt more inspired to write on a few other occasions. Honestly, I'm afraid to do this, but I know I have to. I haven't taken an extended break from Life of a Freelance Dancer in over 5 years (which sounds insane to me). I would be lying if I told you I'm not nervous about it. But I am going to step away from posting on here throughout the rest of the summer to focus on my choreography, teaching, podcasting, seeking additional work (including the aforementioned and professional writing opportunities), and more all in preparation for our October move to New York City. I know I can continue pumping out content on here. But there is nothing more important than feeling inspired to do so. Additionally, I need to assess, at this point, if I have gained all that I can from writing on here or if it offers me more purpose. I love giving to all of you, my faithful readers. But I need to make sure that this is working for me personally, emotionally, and career-wise.

I hope that you all understand. I will continue to produce my podcast and will leave my current teaching schedule for the summer below if you want to learn from me, hear some of my thoughts, or meet me in person. Please do feel compelled to leave me a comment on here, via my website contact page, or on Facebook if you have anything you'd like to share with me about your experience with Life of a Freelance Dancer. And, who knows, maybe I will be inspired to write an update or two on here throughout the summer. I just need to give myself permission not to for awhile.

Thank you for your understanding and support. And, more than anything else, thank you for reading! And to those of you I have interacted with online or in-person, thank you for telling me that my work has helped you and for sharing your own personal stories with me. It has inspired me so very greatly! Enjoy the sunshine and I hope to see you soon! (And if you want to catch up on previous posts, click here to review the LoFD archives)

MY SUMMER TEACHING SCHEDULE (as of 6/13)

Steps on Broadway:
Advance Intermediate Ballet - Monday, Wednesday Friday - 2:30 pm - 6/12 - 7/31 (most dates)
Intermediate Contemporary - Friday - 6 pm - 7/21, 7/28, 8/4
Advance Intermediate Contemporary - Sunday - 3:30 pm - 7/23, 7/30, 8/6

Broadway Dance Center:
Advance Beginner Ballet - Friday - 6 pm - All Summer
Basic Ballet - Sunday - 6 pm - All Summer

Summer Intensive (for pre-professional students):
Greenwich Ballet Academy - 6/27 - 8/18

Contemporary Ballet - Choreography Residency:
Nickerson-Rossi Dance - Knauer Theatre - West Chester, PA - 8/7 - 8/11


Master Classes:
Uptown Dance Company & School - Houston, TX (TBA - between 8/20 - 8/30)


(Please be sure to check open class schedules before attending, as there are a few dates that I will be out of town)

 

The "R" Word - Retirement

The Nutcracker (Photo: Ruth Judson)

There really are few careers out there that are as strikingly unique as a performance career in dance. Those of us lucky enough to dance for a living chose our career path somewhere between the age of teen and tween. Plenty of my peers and colleagues left middle or high school early to attend a boarding school or finished their academics online. From the lifestyle required to maintain the elite level of an athletic artist to the odd set of job requirements, there is nothing normal about the life of a dance artist. One of the most defining aspects of our careers is a word that begins with the letter "R" and is a word almost as dangerous as the name Voldemort. Like many of the most beautiful things in our world, a dance career shines brightly and quickly, then usually fades as fast as a falling star. Like putting together a last will and testament, talking about retirement feels like a daunting task. But at some point, every successful dancer will retire. And only in the rarest instances will this retirement lead one into the sunset of their lives.

Martha Graham was once quoted as saying, "A dancer dies twice." I can tell you from experience that this is one of the most credible statements that has ever been spoken about the pathway a dancer takes as they end their performance career and transition forward into the next stage of their lives. I have been told that one of my most defining attributes as a writer is my level of candor in talking about the realities of our wonderful dance world. But I don't feel that I have been completely candid about where I am as an artist today. And I finally feel that I am ready to change that.

If you have shared the journey of Life of a Freelance Dancer, you have walked hand-in-hand with me from the commencement of my career as a freelance artist. If you look back to 2014, where I posted about dealing with injury and working my way back from burn out, it was quite clear that I was working through a difficult period of my performance career. I had been traveling non-stop for 4 seasons and felt that I was beginning to forget who I was at my core. While I recovered from injury and worked to figure out how I ended up so emotionally lost, I took a job with Alaska Dance Theatre, created my own choreography project, and began working to transition my career to New York City. While I spent a great amount of time giving myself technique class at the gym and dropping in to take classes from other instructors, my performance career remained on hiatus. And, for the longest time, I didn't even know why.

Throughout this period, there were a handful of times that I found myself giving awkward explanations about the state of my career. I've been lucky enough that this blog has given me a great deal of credibility and has offered me visibility to other artists in my field. I've been approached a handful of times for work through this blog or in person from those who have read it. I felt awkward turning down these kind offers, as my persona has become understood as that of a highly sought, successful performer.

But more difficult than turning down the work was trying to find the words to explain why I was turning it down. More often than not, I would offer to pass jobs on to my peers because I didn't feel I was in appropriate shape to take on a performance at that moment. But in all honestly, I just wasn't able to bring myself to get back into a rehearsal studio.

Often, I would find myself at social events and people would ask me what I did for a living. My natural response was that I was a dancer. But as my choreography, teaching, and media career started to take off, I found myself in an awkward situation where a friend corrected me mid-conversation about my position. Sipping a glass of wine after telling a party-goer that I was a dancer, this friend interrupted me and stated, "Actually, he is a choreographer. He isn't performing anymore." I sheepishly smiled at this person and nodded my head, but what they couldn't recognize was the rush of adrenaline flooding my body. That rushing of natural chemicals flowing through my veins mimicked the feeling you might get when you receive extremely bad news; like finding out about an illness or a death. In that very moment, I was forced to come to terms with the creeping, slow death of my performance career. My body's reaction reinforced the statement I posted earlier about the death of a dancer. A dancer dies once when their career is over and again when the person passes on.

Now, I know that I was deeply affected by this experience. But like many occasions when you receive bad news, you go into denial or silently acknowledge the issue while maintaining a certain level of public mum surrounding the item. After toying around with the idea that I may be officially retiring from my performance career for many months, I finally decided to work on transitioning my career base to New York City. This transition has finally allowed me to come to terms with what I am trying to tell you. Once I finally started getting into Nancy Bielski's class on a regular basis, I began to feel my body returning to it's normal ballet shape. While I still had aches and pains from the devastating injury I experienced dancing with Oakland Ballet, I was able to maintain my body and return to class daily. A few more offers for work came to me and I graciously turned those offers down. As you also know, I've been given a handful of teaching opportunities during this time, as well. Whether at Steps on Broadway, Broadway Dance Center, or teaching master classes across the country, I have found a great deal of excitement and growth in this facet of my career. With the addition of having my choreography sought out more and seeing my media work from my blog and podcast explode, things started to become clearer and clearer.

I don't know exactly when it happened and I don't know how it happened, but in the past few months I have finally been able to say it. And maybe the reason I hadn't been able to say it was because I didn't want to admit to myself that I had already moved on. Or maybe it was because it is the only thing I have ever known since I was a young child. And while I have finally admitted it to myself and in private conversation, I still feel slightly choked up writing this post to share what this experience is like for me and may be like for you. And I promise you it's coming. And it's coming right now. I am officially retired from my performance career (and my heart is racing just typing this).

The Nutcracker (Photo: J-Ro)

Alrighty. Now that those words are out there, I'd like to elaborate a little more before signing off from this post. I have not been retired from my performance career since 2014. I really only started toying around with the idea at the beginning of 2016. I had dreams of making this big comeback. I had dreams of maybe joining a Broadway show. I had dreams of performing with Suzanne Farrell Ballet and getting to dance a Balanchine work one more time. I continued to dream of sharing my love of dance from the stage. But with the growth of my media work, the greatly positive feedback for my teaching, and the interest in my choreography, I had to give myself a bit of a reality check. I have accomplished most of what I wanted to accomplish in my performance career. I danced with two of the best ballet companies in the country in some of the greatest works by the greatest choreographers with live music in every production. Then, I self-managed a traveling career across the country performing on stages large and small. I received some level of recognition and notoriety and I feel pleased with all of that. While I feel that I could push through for another year or two, I feel that I reached my peak and will only be maintaining the same level of work that I had been doing when I became injured in 2014. At the young age of 32, I feel that if I focus my work on choreographing, teaching, and sharing my voice with the world that I can do much, much greater things and with a head start. I may perform here and there on occasions that really inspire me (coming out of retirement a la Barbara Streisand). But for the most part, I'm looking forward to focusing on my growing work and continuing to offer my advice and experiences as a freelance choreographer, educator, and dancer here on this blog. As, even in retirement, I will continue to take class and maintain being a dancer off the stage.

Going through the process of finding the strength to use the "R" word, I feel that I did go through a grieving process. I didn't have a big retirement performance to let fans fawn all over me or to gain closure. There was no exact day I can look back to for the rest of my life to call the anniversary of my retirement. But over the last few months, I suddenly became comfortable with responding to my peers and curious acquaintances questions by proudly stating, "I am a choreographer, dance educator, and advocate for the dance world through my media work." I feel that any dancer working towards or going through retirement can benefit from having something to look forward to, no matter how exciting or mundane. So, when you find yourself approaching this new life of yours, remember this. While we may no longer be on the stage to share our gifts with audiences small and large, we will always be dancers. A dancer may die two deaths, but that doesn't mean they live two lives.

(As I enter this new stage of my career, if any readers are ever interested in booking me for choreography, master classes in ballet or contemporary technique, or for speaking engagements, you are always welcome to reach me on my contact page by clicking here. I am available for local, national, and international work).