Is It Ever Appropriate to Sue a Company?

Let's Not Be Irrational! - Carabosse (Shura Baryshnikov) w/Catalabutte (Gianna Gino Di Marco) w/artists from Festival Ballet Providence in Sleeping Beauty - (Photo: A. Cemal Ekin)

I wish legal issues were never the case in this beautiful world of the arts, but, at times, they unfortunately present their ugly face. Working in an underfunded trade where anybody from the truest professionals to the thriftiest amateurs can put together a production can mean that a multitude of issues can present themselves in the process of getting a dance work onstage. While certain issues may arise from the beginning phases through to the performances of a production, luckily most of these items don't require contacting a third party to reconcile disagreements. When is it appropriate to reach out to legal counsel if certain issues or disputes reach a breaking point?

I am lucky that there have only been two issues that have ever pushed me into considering legal representation. The first time this happened was when I was working with a small, fledgling company as an employee and the second time was after choreographing for a larger-scale small-town production that involved a school. What I have found in my 8 years dancing with large-scale, well-funded companies and my 4 years traveling the country working as a freelancer with some lesser funded organizations is that problems are much more apparent in schools and companies with less money or less interaction with the professional dance world.

A handful of the issues that I have encountered throughout my time as a professional dancer and choreographer relate to money. But there is a surprising number of other items that I have either experienced or watched other dancers experience. A general list of issues that I have seen range from not getting paid appropriately (getting paid less, late, never getting paid at all, not receiving compensation for travel, etc.) to withholding dancer rights (workers compensation for employees). I have had my choreography altered against my knowledge, seen dancers per diem withheld, and watched abusive behavior inside the studio. Whether these items arise because of a lack of professional understanding, negligence, or devious behaviors, none of these actions are ever appropriate. Unfortunately, instead of admitting to these errors and working to resolve the situation, those few employers that committed these acts tend to fight a difficult battle instead of admitting to their erroneous ways.

The best way that I can offer up advice is to discuss the two times that I have considered reaching out to legal counsel. The first time was when a company decided to break my employment because I had been injured. When I got hurt, this organization decided to hide that I had a right to use workers compensation to regain my health. When I had to pull out of a program, the director went into a week-long rage against me and, eventually, fired me for what they claimed was a different reason than that they didn't want to finance the healing of one of their employees.

The second time that I encountered a situation that might have led me to speak with an attorney was when a small-town organization violated a choreography contract by adding their own choreography for a public performance into a work that I had already created. After finding my work on Facebook and not recognizing the movement, I reached out to the organization to resolve the situation. Instead of hearing the sincerest of apologies, I received an angry, defensive response naming articles in my contract where they tried to convince me that they could do whatever they wanted with my choreography.

While these were both very different experiences, there were certain similarities in them that differentiated these behaviors from other situations that may have been testy, but wouldn't be worth reaching out to a legal representative. In both situations, my rights were compromised. The first situation was a legal right as an employee, while the second was a violation of a contract. I have found that it is best to reach out as soon as possible to the source in order to work to resolve a situation. In most occurrences, people are reasonable and willing to work with you to maintain a relationship and make sure that all parties are content. But what made these two above situations distinctly different was the stressed and incensed reactions to my attempt to resolve the situation. When an opposing party responds with irrationality, it may be time to reach out for legal advice.

Irrational Puss n' Boots?

It is never a bad thing to reach out to a lawyer to use as a sounding board for extreme issues within the workplace. Being that I am an independent contractor and my partner owns his own business, we hold legal insurance that allows us to get counsel at no additional charge beyond our monthly fee. When stress, money, intellectual property, and/or passion for your work are involved, it can be easy to get lost in an irrational place. Speaking with a lawyer can help you determine whether your emotional reaction to the situation is legally rational or just protective.

After having a conversation with an attorney, the next step is to determine if you want to take the plunge and enter a legal battle to resolve your case. While there may be some situations that necessitate suing an organization, I have found that it usually isn't worth your time to spend the emotional energy that is required to fight for what is right. It is a sad, sad situation, but people in the arts are generally reluctant to go the lengths that it takes to protect themselves from wrongdoing.

The first reason for this is due to poor funding. This works on both sides. Rarely does an organization have the money to fight a legal battle. It is also rare that a dancer or choreographer has the funds to hire an attorney to represent them. Beyond this, the dance world often lets go of minor issues, which is representative of the submissive nature of dance artists. Lastly, the dance world is so closely connected that if a dancer is to sue a company, other employers may fear hiring that dancer out of fear that they will sue their own organization.

Two examples that I am aware of with dancers suing companies involved two friends of mine. The first situation was when a dancer was representing the other dancers of a non-unionized company. When the organization decided to stiff the dancers on per diem from their international travels, this dancer contacted a lawyer and started working to help the dancers collect their contractually agreed travel pay. At the end of that season, the dancer was not reengaged and lost their job.

The second dancer I know who sued a company was put in a position where they were essentially forced to break their contract. They sought counsel to make the company follow through with paying the rest of their contract for that lost season. While I don't remember whether they won or lost that battle, I heard whispers from others in the new company that we were dancing with blaming that dancer for creating that situation. This seemed odd considering none of us were present in that company when things went down.

Challenging times can make one lose faith in the dance world; a place of beauty, perfection, and dreams. While the modernized world has a system for those who have been wronged to fight to protect their rights, the dance world sometimes feels like it exists on another plane. I don't feel that it is appropriate for me to guide anybody towards seeking counsel. Instead, I can provide information to help dancers and choreographers make their own decisions. I have always been an advocate for dancers and choreographers to protect their rights. This would lend me to offering the advice to fight for them. At the same time, there is a great deal of time and emotional energy that must go into legally resolving situations. Consider how important the violation of your rights is to you and the amount of yourself you are willing to put into a legal battle. Also weigh the possible repercussions, fair or not, that you may experience for trying to protect yourself. While this dance world isn't always fair, it is our passion. And sometimes you need to give up a little of yourself to share in this beautiful place.

It is beautiful, isn't it? (A local sculpture in Philadelphia)

Emotional Training in Ballet

After writing about the challenges of success last week, I've had a handful of conversations about success and failure. The world of dance, and beyond, idolizes a story of failure and adversity that opens up unknown doors, eventually leading to hard-won success. Who doesn't love a good cinematic happy ending? Unfortunately, for students in training and professionals with big goals, things don't always turn out that way. For this reason, there are many former and current dancers living jaded with emotional pain, regret, and without closure from the wounds that often go along with such a challenging, strenuous, and personal effort.

Valeska Mosich-Miller in Clara Magazine

While out in Los Angeles prepping to perform for one of my many Nutcracker gigs, I found myself in a conversation consoling a former dancer about her training years. I was staying with my friend and the woman, who was subletting her brother's room while he is out of town working on an FX series, just happened to be a dancer that was in Pacific Northwest Ballet's school during my first few years with the company. Valeska Mosich-Miller and I knew each other from that time, but didn't really interact much. In most schools attached to a company, there is a clear delineation between company talking to school and school talking to company (school students rarely approach company members). Although we had little interaction during that time, I surely remembered her. The reason being that I, and most other company members, recognized that she had stunning looks and a beautiful, tall stature. Many dancers would comment that she should find an agent and become a model. Apparently, we weren't the only ones that felt that way.

Valeska Mosich-Miller in Marie Claire

Valeska left PNB's school to train elsewhere for a short period of time. After a handful of unsuccessful auditions, she stopped searching for a company to call home because she started getting picked up by multiple modeling agencies across the world in places like Brazil, South Africa, London, and Los Angeles. While spending a week living with Valeska and catching up on where we are in our lives, we went out to dinner and had a very striking conversation. While Valeska has had great successes that most people could only dream of having, she was still struggling with the loss of her ballet career and her perception of wasted effort that was put into so many years of training.

I could tell that nearly 5 years of time away from ballet had not healed the emotional trauma and wounds of rejection that the ballet world can place upon dancers. Being that I am very interested in teaching future generations of dance artists, I have put a lot of thought into the whats and whys of a ballet career and how training affects young dancers. And what I have determined is that ballet training is essentially survival of the fittest.

Classical ballet instruction is extremely harsh on the body. Aside from the physical requirements of natural flexibility, accurate proportions, strength, and aesthetic; a dancer needs emotional fortitude to truly make it in this career. How is a dancer going to cope with casting that isn't in their favor? Will a dancer be able to continue with a performance after receiving bad news? What does a dancer do if they mess up onstage? Each one of these items can really challenge a dancer's ability to handle the stresses of a dance career. The physical demands of training will prepare one to execute the most difficult of feats with ease. While the emotional aspects of training ensure that a dancer doesn't fall apart in high stress situations. Unfortunately, the concept of emotional training is rarely revealed to students throughout their studies.  Perhaps, because teachers aren't even aware that they are teaching it.

Very few of my teachers really explained much about the emotional challenges of dancing other than saying, "Ballet is hard," "People get injured," or, "You don't want to be stuck in the corps."  That is until I started training under Jock Soto at the School of American Ballet. One day I particularly remember, Jock had stopped class after a student was having a mini-breakdown over the failed execution of a partnering combination. Trying to calm the student down and keep their head in the game, he stated, "Your grandfather just passed away and you got a phone call minutes before you step onstage to premiere the lead in Theme and Variations. That gray-haired lady seated in the orchestra paid $200 for her ticket and has no idea about your troubles. No matter what happens you must always perform to your best abilities because all the audience knows is that they paid a lot of money to see a good show." This comment seemed utterly heartless having never heard anything like it before. I remember many conversations after class where we tried to validate that what he had been saying was just downright heartless. But I can now tell you from experience, I have watched this exact story happen. I've experienced traumas and performed while reeling through an emotional life experience. It is a part of the job and our training helps us deal with this. Now, if only, as teenagers and young adults, we knew that a handful of the comments and experiences we have on the road to success are a part of the training, and not always teachers and directors playing mind games.

It is very common for students who never become professionals and professionals who never become principals to focus their anger and bitterness towards the last organization or two that they feel let them down or kept them from achieving their dream. I don't think this is avoidable and, sometimes, agree with these dancer's feelings. Unfortunately, though, these dancers got weeded out by ballet's survival of the fittest training. If your body is too weak, it will break down often. If your body doesn't fit the aesthetic, and dancers go to dangerous lengths to fit the mold, they will not make it through the training. I am always asked about anorexic and bulimic dancers, as is every professional in the field. I typically respond that there were some sick dancers while I was training. But for the most part, the career is too challenging to maintain that lifestyle and those dancers with eating problems fall apart before they finish their training or within a year of obtaining a job. If a dancer's technique isn't strong enough and they audition for years and years and eventually give up, they have been weeded out. If a dancer had everything going for them and obtains a job, but quits a year or two in because they didn't have a fairytale rise to the top, they have again been weeded out. There are so many challenges that ballet presents to dancers that make sure that the last dancers standing are those onstage and selling tickets.

It is rare to find a teacher or director that is so especially harsh that they seek to destroy a dancer's love for ballet. There are exceptions to the rule, but it isn't common. Most leaders want a dancer to succeed at what they are doing. The misinterpretation of emotional training is often the downfall of many potential dance careers. When one is involved in a school or institution, that one place becomes the dancer's entire world. My favorite example of this takes place at the dance academy where I was raised. Every year when Nutcracker casting is posted, parents call the director shouting, "WHY DIDN'T MY DAUGHTER GET CLARA." In a fair-sized school in the suburbs of Philadelphia, like clockwork, parents freak out because their child wasn't handed a role just for showing up and paying their tuition. Within days, studio gossip ensues and one small performance becomes a big ordeal, as if it is the make it or break it moment of their child's life. People forget that somebody is always going to be at the top and somebody is always going to be at the bottom. It is like this in school and it is like this in a company. It can become difficult to remember that there are hundreds of schools and companies across the country. And if a dancer is truly unhappy, they can always look elsewhere for an improved situation. Rejection and disappointment tend to be one of ballet's first emotional lessons.

If a dancer is truly talented and being overlooked, it may be time to try somewhere new or to understand that sometimes you are the best and sometimes you are the worst. And sometimes it is all a matter of needs and timing. Dancers often forget, like Valeska did, that ballet is based purely on opinion. Casting decisions and class placement often upset people because there is no formal basis to judge technique, artistry, and performance. Maybe a director put a dancer onstage for a specific role because they thought big eyes would look good in that role. Perhaps, she doesn't have the best technique, but she is intriguing to look at and intrigue sells more tickets than technique. And if the same group of dancers travel from state to state, school to school, or company to company whilst performing the same work, different opinions and choices may put completely different dancers onstage at every institution. There is no best dancer. There is, instead, I prefer this dancer.

What it comes down to is that ballet is often full of political opinion. The end goal of an institution is to put productions onstage as best they can and to please its' patrons and donors. Dancers are just pieces of a puzzle that need to be fit together. If a dancer doesn't fit in a certain part of the puzzle, then they don't fit. A company can't be so concerned about hurting a dancer's feelings that the quality of a production becomes a secondary priority. While dancer's feelings may get hurt, it is rarely personal. Ballet doesn't remember that dancers are human beings with emotions. But people do (and should). For this reason, it is the human side, or artistic staff, of an organization that is responsible in ensuring that there is still humane treatment towards a dancer who may be disappointed by casting or has been left out of a performance during their integral final years of training. This is often where emotional training fails. Instead of having a hard, potentially disappointing conversation, many company and school directors prefer to keep quiet about their reasoning. This leaves dancers to make assumptions that may be far from the truth. Maybe staff feels that they don't owe the dancer an explanation for putting them in the second cast of the corps after giving them a leading role in the last production. Or perhaps, that corps member isn't being cast well to test and see if they can handle performing less, which often occurs during the first years after promotion to soloist. Why can't a dancer just be told that they are being tested, instead of creating circumstances and sitting back to watch their reaction. Directors owe the human being, not the dancer, a reason for casting disappointments, frustrating circumstances, and mixed signals.

A great amount of emotional training happens every day in dance. I have found that, more often than not, the higher powers of dance organizations don't even realize that they are taking part in this important aspect of training. Since ballet is passed on by oral tradition, there is no text book on the exact way to train a dancer. My teachers taught me what their teachers taught them and so on and so on. Every generation tries to take the best part of their training and pass it on, while attempting to avoid passing on the worst parts of their training. But, sometimes, the harshest parts of their training were to make sure that they could survive in our stressful profession. Unfortunately, there are often better ways to go about things and those with power aren't even aware that they are doing more than just training the physicality of a dancer. If students are more aware of the emotional tests that they will be put through, they may have greater lasting power. It is really confusing for a teenager to understand that there are tests in our training, beyond how high one can developpe or how many pirouettes one can execute, if they are not made aware of it. Emotional strength is just as important a factor as technique in becoming a successful dancer.

Valeska Mosich-Miller (Photo: Patrick Fraser)

I felt for Valeska while we talked out her training trauma over tasty pork bao at a trendy L.A. eatery. And at the end of our conversation, she was shocked that she may have been ignored in school as a test to see if she could handle being ignored in a company. Or maybe she just didn't fit into the intricate puzzle of the school that year. Years and years of resentment didn't disappear, but she seemed more at ease with what was a very disheartening and hurtful time of her life. Over the last decade there has been a greater push to help preserve the bodies of dancers through proper maintenance, cross training, and better body awareness. Today, I would like to call upon the dance world to do the same thing with the dancer's mind. We need to start treating dancers with respect, openness, and honesty. There needs to be more support for teenagers who are working as high-level adults, often living on their own, and dealing with insane amounts of pressure. Bringing awareness and structure to the emotional training that is necessary to have a successful career will be the next step in extending the life of a dance career.

What do you think we can do to improve the emotional struggles that dancers experience in their training?

The #1 Question People Ask

Waiting to board my plane home at Manchester-Boston airport

There are many aspects of performing on multiple stages with a variety of organizations that are wholly gratifying. Much of this satisfaction comes from your audience. Sometimes, they are comprised of parents that want to see their little Angelina perform as the White Swan in her senior dance recital. On other occasions, they are highly educated balletomanes hoping to be transformed by the world of ballet. After many performances, I am greeted by curious audience members, staff, and sometimes dancers that want to offer me their regards and ask me questions. After the initial greetings takes place, I usually get this. "I looked in the program and checked your bio and I couldn't find what company you dance with. Where do you dance?"

The first time I was asked this question I was caught quite off guard. How was I supposed to approach this subject concisely and appropriately without telling the story of my life and career? I have a tendency to tell stories that only need to go from point A to point B in the fashion of a story that goes from point A to point Z. I often give an overshare of details and lose the point of the conversation quickly. My mind scrambled to find a way to clearly explain why I wasn't attached to any specific company. I replied, "Well, I work as a freelance dancer full-time. I am not attached to any particular company." I said this knowing that their response to this would be some state of confusion. Sometimes, I feel that I understand their confusion better than I do my answer.

The ballet world is set up as a system of companies that have created names for themselves with specific associations. Some are world acclaimed and others are nationally recognized, while a handful are regionally focused and some are community based. It is easier to judge a dancer through a larger association, then solely on the status of a dancer being a dancer. When an outsider sees a professional perform well, they want to put a label on that artist. It is easier for them to go home and say "I saw this dancer from the Pacific Northwest Ballet perform," than it is for them to say that they saw a freelance dancer. Even dancers have trouble establishing their worth if they can't say, well I dance for "fill in the blank." Having my background of being in a big company helps. When people are confused, I will often tell them the company that I used to dance for and their eyes usually light up with more cognition. Even with this, it is still a struggle for me to know exactly where to go with this conversation and how to answer their next question. "Well, you were great! When are you going to get a job with a company?" or "When are you going to join this company?" or "Why aren't you with a company right now?"

There are many reasons that freelancers do what they do. I was using freelancing to make extra money during weeks that I was laid off from the company that I was dancing with seasonally. When I was suddenly no longer with that company, I had to find a way to keep dancing and continue to support myself and my partner. My story is personal and it is unique, as is many other freelance dancers. For this reason, it is difficult for me to openly share every aspect of my story.

Many freelancers know what their end goal of freelancing is. It can be anything from getting experience to joining a company to spending the final years of their career doing what they want to do. For others, like me, it isn't that simple. Some dancers aren't sure if they want to continue freelancing forever or if they want to eventually join a company again. A lot of freelance artists use their time on the fly as a period of self-exploration. This is the the case for me. I feel that I am currently figuring myself out as a dancer. I entered the professional ballet world with certain expectations and, as I have gained experience, those expectations have changed. Freelancing allows me to explore different scenarios and to shut down my expectations and create understanding. It is a lot of hard work to constantly remain open and vulnerable.

Why do I want to continue working as a freelancer, instead of desperately auditioning for a company to call home? Freelancing is as difficult as it is rewarding. Having any type of commitment in one place can be a challenge. Finances can be hard. And sometimes it comes down to the simple fact that I want to sleep in my own bed. So, why wouldn't I want to join a company full-time? On the other hand, I am living my dream. I am dancing roles that I likely would not have been offered with the big company I was dancing for, traveling the world, and making endless friends and connections along the way. With all of this floating around in my head, you can probably understand why it can be so difficult to answer these ballet fan's simple questions.

The first time that I gave this question a stab, I don't really feel I did myself justice. As these questions have popped up more often, I am getting better at approaching the subject of being a homeless dancer. Last night, I found myself at the dinner table of a restaurant with the staff of the school that I had just performed with for their end of the year show. In the flow of our conversation, those usual questions surfaced and I can say that I am proud of my response. It went a little something like this. "I am not currently attached to any company. I travel around performing from place to place and am content with that. If I dance for a company and find that I have a special connection with them, I am not saying that I wouldn't settle down. But at the moment, I am not specifically seeking a place to call home. If it happens, I would be happy with that. But my current goal is to just be fulfilled and happy." I feel that there is a large group of freelancers that feel this way.

Still today, I have moments where I question my value as a dancer that has no home. I tend to rely on the prestige of my previous job to convince people of my value with my words, even when my dancing has already convinced them. I guess, at times, that I am still convincing myself to believe in me. I dont have an artistic director, boss, or some other person to guide my worth and offer me praise for my accomplishments. It's funny how all I ever wanted as a professional was to be in charge of my own and others' view of my worth. Now that I finally am, I sometimes want somebody else to do that job. It goes back to that aspect of the ballet world that I spoke about in my previous post about how I get work, where dancers are trained by the ballet culture to be humble and quiet about their accomplishments. Now, I don't only have to convince possible employers of my skill and value, but I have to convince myself, too. So, with the conclusion of this blog post, I am going to set a goal. I am going to strive to be comfortable with being my own boss and positively assess my own self worth. And I am going to endeavor to be more comfortable relying on my current value, instead of completely relying on the value of a previous affiliation. It is one of the most positive qualities I can offer myself in being my own boss.