WHY ARE YOU CROWDFUNDING AGAIN?GREAT QUESTION! Two years ago yesterday, I was celebrating surpassing my stretch goal of $5000 for the fundraising campaign supporting the first ever "...that's what she said." One year ago, around this time, I was launching an $8000 campaign to fund the second "...that's what she said." The campaign closed out at $7200. Today, I am announcing that there are just five days left to donate to the ongoing campaign of $10,000 to fund the third annual "...that's what she said" - and we are less than 20% to our goal. Why in the world am I doing this again? Shouldn't I have found a way to be more sustainable by now? maybe, maybe notDid you know that crowdfunding becomes exceedingly more difficult the more years you do it? I did in 2017, when I launched my first campaign. This is why I tried to use the momentum of its initial success to build a community of support, to scale the project so it would be attractive to more people, and to provide merit statistics to potential grant funders. I think I succeeded in two out of three of these goals: there are quite a lot of people who have bought into the importance of the work I am doing as Lady BOS Productions, and quite a lot of people who have benefitted or seen benefit in the ways I have scaled "...that's what she said" and affiliated or similar projects. Grants... have not been so easy. This will not become a post about the frustration of grants. Most of my friends are artists who are intimately familiar with grant rejection letters. For those who are less familiar with how the grant world works: grant funding provides critical opportunity for artistic projects to get off the ground, and it is an incredibly competitive (and political) world. Getting a grant does not mean a project is good, and, similarly, not getting a grant doesn't mean a project is not good. I have achieved some small success in the world of grants, but I am definitely still learning to navigate it... hence: another crowdfunding campaign. creativity and capitalismI think crowdfunding campaigns struggle the longer they exist for the same project because there is an assumption that at some point, the project should find a level of sustainability that does not involve asking friends, family, and a community of supporters for money. I think this stems from a capitalist business mindset. I am not going to be knocking capitalism here. I will just say that capitalism does not apply in the art world. Dance will literally never make a profit - most performing arts do not - and that is not an indication of failure. It is, perhaps, an indication of the cultural value of the arts, but netting a loss on a dance project does not mean the presenter did something wrong. Celebrity Series is one of the leading dance presenters in the city of Boston, bringing in companies like Alvin Ailey and Batsheva (nationally and internationally renowned dance companies), and they still estimate losses of thousands and thousands of dollars on dance productions. That bottom line red is washed out and made up by a combination of grants and individual giving. a rose by any other nameWhat is individual giving? It is donations made by individuals who support the producing entity making art happen. It is... essentially... crowdfunding. Individual giving campaigns have been a thing in the art world for..ever? They have been a thing in the nonprofit world forever. Are you a person who donates to the Red Cross every month, or every year? Do you participate in the American Cancer Society Relay for Life or Susan Komen Walks for the Cure every year? Do you donate to Habitat for Humanity, Ronald McDonald House, the Heffer Project, or any number of other charitable nonprofits regularly? Then you are participating in an individual giving campaign. You are part of crowdfunding. It just didn't always have a fancy name and slick online portal - but it is essentially the same thing. SO, what I am saying is that crowdfunding year after year shouldn't somehow be considered a sign of weakness or failure in an artistic organization. It goes by many different names and disguises, but it is essentially how a number of creative and nonprofit organizations- ranging from very small to very large- fill in the gaps of their budgets year after year. And it only works if lots and lots of people buy in. the bottom lineI would love an angel donor to hand me $5000 for my project. That would make my life a lot easier. But without access to highly wealthy people, that is difficult. And beyond that, I would really like to know that my project is supported by a large community of individuals. Last year, I made it to $7200 via a combination of two large gifts totaling $2500, a few gifts of $100-$300, and a LOT of small gifts ranging from $5-$25. A little can go a long way, if a community is buying in collectively. If what I have been doing as Lady BOS Productions has benefitted you in any way - a touching performance, an opportunity to create work, a way to meet other artists, a reminder that you aren't alone - then I need you. I need your $5. Or your $50. Or your $500. Whatever is financially feasible to you. And if you don't want to donate to Lady BOS Productions this year, but see other projects crowdfunding that do strike a chord with you - then please, donate to them. Donate any amount. And then do it again next year. And the year after. I have chosen to dedicate a portion of my budget each year to arts donations. I give A LOT of small donations to A LOT of artists that are impressing me in some way shape or form. And - just for the record - I don't give a lot to the American Cancer Society, or to Habitat for Humanity, or to other charitable nonprofits or science-research-based nonprofits, because - yes they need support, and yes they do great work - but they have a crap ton more support than arts initiatives in the city of Boston. My dollar goes a lot further supporting my local arts community, so that is what I have prioritized. WRITTEN BY: Kristin WagnerPublished on February 18, 2020
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I first met Olivia when she was just a freshman in college. In the past 4ish years, I have watched her artistry blossom, and it has been a beautiful process to witness. I have yet to encounter anyone who believes that she is still in college, and I could not possibly be more thrilled that she agreed to be a part of ...that's what she said this year, thereby allowing me to truly pull out the intergenerational nature of the project in addition to adding a really valid and eloquent voice to the mix of artists. Olivia is so multidimensional both as a human and as an artist. This interview only gives the slightest peak into the Olivia that I am lucky to know - so read it, but then make sure you come to the show and buy her a drink afterward. She is undoubtedly one of the most interesting people you could chat over wine with.
UNEARTHING THE MULTIFACETED IDENTITY OF: OLIVIA BLAISDELLHOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING WORK, AND IN WHAT CONTEXT? In terms of dance, I first choreographed in my senior year of high school (2016) and have continued to make work for Boston University’s Dance Theatre Group for the past two years. In terms of photography, I have been an amateur photographer my whole life, but really started getting serious in 2016. WHAT TENDS TO BE YOUR INSPIRATION OR CATALYST FOR CREATION? I’ve noticed that my greatest inspirations stem from real life situations and experiences - things that have happened to me, or have happened to my friends, or have happened to everyone. For example, I have made dances about playing the Wii video game, about being the only gay person at cotillion, and about how people sit a foot away from you on an empty beach. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP TO THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY? WHAT DO YOU SEE AS STRENGTHS OR WEAKNESSES FOR THE COMMUNITY? I have been a part of the Boston dance community since January 2017. My photography started to become known around then, and I also joined Kairos Dance Theater. The Boston dance community is small. Everyone knows each other and it is easy to learn what performances and projects are happening. But, being a photographer, I have noticed there is a lack of attendance and physical support at performances. It seems that there are smaller sub-groups in the larger dance community and these sub-groups support the companies in that smaller group. However, in the future I would like to see some of these boundaries dissolve. I feel apart of the community as a photographer, but not as a dancer. WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER YOUR COMMUNITY? I consider my community to be my closest friends. My closest friends come from Dance Theatre Group, from people in the Boston dance community, from high school, and from academic classes. YOUR PIECE FOR TWSS IS ABOUT IDENTITY. HOW HAVE YOU CHOSEN TO APPROACH THIS TOPIC? Identity has been a huge, general topic that many of my pieces have addressed. I have grown frustrated trying to belong to a community that I feel doesn’t/won’t accept me. Maybe due to anxiety? But also where does this anxiety stem from? I created a piece about making your own Mii on the Wii game console a year ago and wanted to continue the project, but with the Sims video game. I always found something so creepy and fun about being able to create lives for these fake characters and illustrating a life with no consequences. YOU HAVE PARTICIPATED IN TWSS IN A NUMBER OF WAYS OVER THE YEARS: AS A DANCER IN THE FIRST SEASON, RESIDENT PHOTOGRAPHER BEGINNING IN THE SECOND SEASON, AND NOW AS A CHOREOGRAPHER AND DANCER IN THE THIRD SEASON. WHAT GROWTH HAVE YOU NOTICED IN THE PROJECT OVER TIME? HOW MMIGHT YOU DESCRIBE YOUR EXPERIENCE OF THE PROJECT, GIVEN HOW MANY LENSES YOU'VE BEEN ABLE TO VIEW IT FROM? I have noticed a change in the ~vibe~ of the project over time. The first season really emphasized diverse identities and backgrounds, the second season included many different genres of dance, and the third season is a glimpse into a world of really powerful women. Through this, I see a progression of you, Kristin. It might be the “fuck grants” attitude, but it seems that you have really found a community that supports you, and it doesn’t matter who the fuck cares. WHAT HAS BEEN MOST GRATIFYING ABOUT THIS CURRENT SEASON OF TWSS? Maybe I am biased because I am a choreographer, but getting to know the other choreographers and feeling that I am a part of an awesome group feels perfect. Additionally, I get to choreograph on some super talented, kind friends. WHAT OTHER OPPORTUNITIES HAVE YOU BEEN EXPLORING IN BOSTON? I have been granted more opportunities to photograph Boston dance performances which has allowed me to grow as an artist. I have also dipped my foot in photographing pole dance which will hopefully allow me to immerse myself in this community as a photographer and pole dancer. WHERE CAN WE LEARN MORE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR WORK? WHAT'S NEXT? My website is www.halfasianlens.com, but I tend to keep my Instagram more up to date (@halfasianlens). WHAT SUPPORT DO YOU NEED MOST IN ORDER TO CONTINUE TO GROW AS AN ARTIST? I mean obviously monetary support is awesome, especially because I graduate from college this year and have no idea what I am going to do. BUT most importantly, I need encouragement and validity from my community. ARTISTS LIKE OLIVIA AND PROJECTS LIKE "...THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID" ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPORT WITHOUT THE FINANCIAL GENEROSITY OF INDIVIDUALS LIKE YOU. PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION OF $5-$500 BY FEBRUARY 21 TO KEEP CREATIVITY THRIVING IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.WRITTEN BY: KRISTIN WAGNERPublished February 10, 2020 Photos by Kristin Wagner (deeply edited by Olivia Blaisdell herself!)
2/6/2020 CARVING OUT SPACES OF COMFORT AND SAFETY FOR YOURSELF: GETTING DEEPER WITH DEANNA PELLECCHIARead NowI have known DeAnna Pellecchia since I was 18 years old. From the moment her Intermediate Jazz class at Boston University began, I was equal parts intimidated and invigorated. Anyone who has encountered her can attest: DeAnna is a force. What keeps this intense mind and body creating and performing in Boston? Read on to learn more about this incredible woman, whose tough exterior is matched only by her heart of gold.
GETTING DEEPER WITH DEANNA PELLECCHIAHOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING WORK, AND IN WHAT CONTEXT? I have been creating dances since I was 3: in my living room, in friends’ driveways, at family parties. Officially I started choreographing in college as a dance major at RWU and professionally I started choreographing in 2005, which is when KAIROS was unofficially born. I started working with a company of dancers in 2012, the OFFICIAL beginning of KAIROS. WHAT TENDS TO BE YOUR INSPIRATION OR CATALYST FOR CREATION? Women. The resilience of women. Trauma. Comedy. Pain. Laughter. Real things. Broken things. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY? Since 1999. WHAT HAS BEEN YOUR EXPERIENCE OF THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY DURING THIS TIME? I tend to keep my circle very tight. I feel safest, most nurtured, and best supported within the smaller communities I build for myself, and so, though I have been a part of the Boston Dance Community for years, I have chosen to participate in it very differently from many of the peers I grew alongside here. For me, the dance world - Boston and beyond - can feel far too driven by politics and competition. When in such an environment, I feel unable to create my best work. When those elements are stripped away, what we are left with is true and authentic dance - that feels like the answer to everything, and so I have built for myself a sub-community that does its best to focus purely on dance, movement, trust, healing, and art. WHO/WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER TO BE YOUR COMMUNITY? KAIROS Dance Theater and all of the magical and amazing artists who participate. Over the years, I have built a team of incredible collaborators from the fields of lighting/technical/set design, costume/fashion design, digital media, film, photography, and more. Then, of course, there are my dancers, who are my collaborators, my friends, and my family. These people provide the safety and creative stimulation that keeps me doing this dance thing, year after year. YOUR PIECE FOR TWSS IS ABOUT FEMALE RAGE/ANGER. WHAT INSPIRED THIS PIECE? HOW HAVE YOU DECIDED TO TACKLE THIS BROAD CONCEPT? My own rage and the rage of every woman I know. The rage of survivors. The rage of women as whole on this planet. I tackled it collaboratively with the dancers as I always do, originally through improvisation and then refining it in rehearsals by trusting the brilliance of the people there with me. THIS IS YOUR SECOND SEASON PARTICIPATING AS A CHOREOGRAPHER IN TWSS: WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO RETURN FOR A SECOND SEASON? IN THE FIRST SEASON, YOU PARTICIPATED AS A GUEST ARTIST, AND NOW IN THE THIRD SEASON YOU ARE A COHORT CHOREOGRAPHER. WHAT GROWTH HAVE YOU NOTICED OVER TIME FOR THE PROJECT, AND HOW HAS IT FELT TO BE A PART OF THE PROJECT IN A NEW CONTEXT? Kristin Wagner is the reason I am there. Full stop. She is part of the community I love and trust (KAIROS Dance Theater) and when she asks me to do something I do it. Additionally, the space she is making for dance artists and the way she is making it is an amazing gift to the dance community. She has been able to grow the project into an incredible opportunity - offering an amazing wealth of resources from help with grant writing to video documentation. WHAT OTHER OPPORTUNITIES HAVE YOU BEEN GRANTED OR HAVE YOU BEEN EXPLORING LATELY IN BOSTON DANCE? Our residency at the Dance Complex last season was a wonderful, fulfilling opportunity. WHERE CAN WE LEARN MORE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR WORK? WHAT IS ON THE DOCKET AFTER TWSS? We are premiering FLYING FORWARD, a 30 minute piece in collaboration with New England Conservatory in April at NEC's Black Box Theater. You can learn more about this project and more at our website, on our Facebook, and on our Instagram. WHAT SUPPORT DO YOU NEED MOST IN ORDER TO CONTINUE TO GROW AS AN ARTIST AND A MAKER? $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ ARTISTS LIKE DEANNA AND PROJECTS LIKE "...THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID" ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPORT WITHOUT THE FINANCIAL GENEROSITY OF INDIVIDUALS LIKE YOU. PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION OF $5-$500 BY FEBRUARY 21 TO KEEP CREATIVITY THRIVING IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.WRITTEN BY: KRISTIN WAGNERPublished: February 6, 2020 Photos by Olivia Moon Photography/@halfasianlens
Quiet, reserved, and full of unexpected vigor, Jennifer Lin is one of those artists who creates simply because she must. A true example of an open and curious mind, Jennifer returned to college to pursue her MFA decades into her career as a dancer and dance maker, using the opportunity to transition a previously Western-focused dance career into one that explored her Korean roots and the traditions of many Asian cultures. It was my pleasure to learn this and more about Jennifer. Read on to hear for yourself the journey of this humble and astute gem of an artist.
GETTING TO KNOW: JEnnifer LinHOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING WORK AND IN WHAT CONTEXT? I have been making work off and on throughout my career. The situation is that I have been creating dances mostly within public and private educational institutions where I studied or taught and not out in public communities. Though I have a long history dating back to the early 1980s in the Boston Dance Community, my role has been as a dancer in other artist’s companies or other independent choreographer’s work. In 2004 I started to show my work at The Dance Complex. Then I left Boston to live in Honolulu from 2007-2012. In Honolulu, I was a nontraditional graduate student in a program where basically my professors were my peers. I studied ethnography and Asian Pacific Island dance, specifically Korean dance as it is practiced both in Honolulu and Korea. Returning to Boston in 2012, I began participating in various programs at The Dance Complex in Cambridge such as NACHMO Boston and Tiny Dances and at Boston Conservatory World Fest, Dance for World Community and other arts festivals and venues. WHAT TENDS TO BE YOUR INSPIRATION OR CATALYST FOR CREATION? In the past my work has been mostly concerned with abstract form and composition, visual design, and the pursuit of beauty and technique. As a young conservatory and classically trained American dancer, I identified to a Western identity and values in arts and culture. However, as a midcareer artist, I also sometimes combine my interests in form and abstraction and pursuit of beauty with Asian American topics, story telling, and choreography that is inspired by combining elements from both Western and Korean dance. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY? I have been a dancer/performing off and on in the Boston dance community since 1979. In the mid-eighties I moved to Central Massachusetts where I taught at several schools and also worked with a ballet company in Southern New Hampshire. In the mid 1990s, I began commuting into Cambridge and performing with Daniel McCusker for twelve years. About 2001 I moved into Boston and started to teach locally and show work and then left again in 2007 bound for Honolulu. After four years I returned to Boston from and started teaching and showing work again. DURING YOUR TIME IN THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY, WHAT HAVE YOU NOTICED ARE THE STRENGTHS OF THE COMMUNITY? There are many practicing dancers, choreographers, and performers. THE WEAKNESSES? Not enough choreographer and dancer development opportunities, rehearsal space, performance time, financial support, pay for dancers & choreographers, local recognition, and national development. There are not enough finely technically trained dancers. Many serious dancers move on to New York when Boston opportunities aren’t available. I have been here before. I feel like I have reached a level where I have done all the free performance opportunities. It’s time to reach the next level, which I think is grant awards and paid work commissions. This is where I think many local dance companies start to falter. The community hasn’t developed in a national way. I feel like most of the support addresses the dance community as something to develop whereas some of us have MFAs and have been teaching for ages. How can we do great work when we can’t pay the dancers and give them the opportunity to perform and grow!? DO YOU FEEL APART OF THE COMMUNITY? Basically yes; however, my peers, the older generation, know me as a dancer, not as a choreographer and the younger dancers don’t know me. WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER TO BE YOUR COMMUNITY? The local dance community, but our community is too small and not integrated or inclusive enough. Arts need support from more than friends and peers. YOUR PIECE FOR TWSS IS ABOUT MIGRATION. WHAT INSPIRED THIS PIECE? On a very basic level, interest in auto-ethnography as art and scholarship, my immigration story and the stories of colleagues and friends inspired the work. I am considering public and private information: personal stories as public artistic material, the performer’s immigration stories and value for the subject. I was also inspired by a trip to Angel Island in California, an immigration station formerly used for Chinese and other Asian immigrants coming to American and now a historical state park, and by a quote from Franklin Roosevelt that hangs there on a plaque on the wall: “Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists.” HOW HAVE YOU DECIDED TO TACKLE THIS BROAD CONCEPT? Conceptually and in this case by being abstract as well as occasionally literal. I thought about why people migrate, how they migrate, and what they bring in terms of material objects and non-material ideas. I thought about the elements of human movement and ways to create a sense of traveling with posture, gesture, and locomotor movement. I considered cultural archetypes and archetypal images related to the subjects of traveling, journeying, migrating, and immigrating, as well as the literal meaning of key words and synonyms such as: journey, tramp, roam, wander, drift, rove, march, bridge, cross, shuttle, span, move, etc. THIS IS YOUR SECOND SEASON PARTICIPATING AS A CHOREOGRAPHER IN TWSS: WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO RETURN FOR A SECOND SEASON? I loved learning about new types of movement performance (pole dance), inclusion of age, gender, racial differences, and support of non-dominant artists, sense of support and community, positive environment, enthusiasm, professional intention and level of staff and artistic work. WHAT HAS BEEN MOST GRATIFYING ABOUT THIS CURRENT SEASON OF TWSS? Meeting and seeing new artists, inclusiveness, feeling like a cohort, enthusiasm, positive energy and support WHAT OTHER OPPORTUNITIES HAVE YOU BEEN GRANTED OR HAVE YOU BEEN EXPLORING LATELY IN BOSTON DANCE? I am trying to build on what I have learned from being a participant in these two projects. I am very grateful for the development of photos and video that will greatly help with self-promotion and to find work, and for opportunities that have emerged or might emerge from these projects. For example, I am 1 of 4 finalists for another project as a result; I should know by end of January. WHERE CAN WE LEARN MORE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR WORK? WHAT IS ON THE DOCKET AFTER TWSS? I have started an Instagram profile; I need some help with promotion and followers. I have updates to CreativeGround profile and Wordpress website, and I am considering revamping Facebook and starting a WIX site. Wondering if I need a Twitter account. WHAT SUPPORT DO YOU NEED MOST IN ORDER TO CONTINUE TO GROW AS AN ARTIST AND A MAKER? Rehearsal space, preforming opportunities, and pay for dancers. Specifically–a manager, a grant writer, help with grant writing, social media. ARTISTS LIKE JENNIFER AND PROJECTS LIKE "...THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID" ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPORT WITHOUT THE FINANCIAL GENEROSITY OF INDIVIDUALS LIKE YOU. PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION OF $5-$500 BY FEBRUARY 21 TO KEEP CREATIVITY THRIVING IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.WRITTEN BY: KRISTIN WAGNERPublished February 3, 2020 Photos by Olivia Moon Photography/@halfasianlens
March is swiftly approaching, and with it, the third and final season of ...that's what she said. I keep using this phrase - "third and final" - to make it clear to the public that this project is coming to an end this year, and, I think, to help ease myself into the inevitable goodbye to this crazy, beautiful, tiny-but-huge thing I created. A few years ago, I discovered a word that I felt was invented for me: finifugal: adj. hating endings; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moment of a story, relationship, or some other journey Isn't language just incredible? I will never cease to be amazed by its ability to capture this thing that feels so wholly unique to you, and in doing so, demonstrate to you that you really aren't that unique... which means you really aren't that alone. In a way, ...that's what she said was borne from this love of language. So many dancers and choreographers I know claim that they dance and create dance in order to express what they cannot in words. Though I understand this, I can't say I relate. I may struggle in real time with spoken word, but the written word has always been a friend to me. Allow me time and space to sit down with my thoughts, and I'll compose a near perfect expression of what is stirring in my brain. I truly believe most people - especially women - could do the same, if they were given the time and space, the encouragement, and the comfort of knowing even if it isn't perfect, it still deserves to be shared. And so came the idea for ...that's what she said: a project that provided time, space, encouragement, and comfort for women of all walks of life to say what it is that stirs in their minds, their hearts, their souls - yes, primarily through movement, but often with words as well (at our peer mentored feedback sessions, at facilitated post-performance talkbacks, in written interviews, and more).  Over the past three years, this project has grown into much more than I could have possibly foreseen in 2017 when inspiration first struck. I am immensely proud of what it has become, for myself and for the artists I have worked with. Objectively speaking, it has provided consistent opportunities and much-needed and desired tools and services to a community of underserved dancers and dance makers. After participating in ...that's what she said, several choreographers have gone on to receive prestigious grants and residencies in the community, and - for me, more importantly - have maintained and grown their relationships with one another in supportive and mutually-beneficial ways both professionally and personally. Still, though, there were components that I imagined for this project that I didn't quite hit in seasons one and two. When I decided this would be the last season, I posed to myself the challenge to do all the things I had wanted to do previously, but had been too nervous (or too busy) to pursue. Instead of go big or go home, I decided to go big, then go home. One of those components is to conduct and share a personal interview with each choreographer in the cohort. Don't be fooled by this seemingly small task: interviews get personal very quickly. After all, that is the entire point: get to know the PERSON. I wanted to get to know these women better, and I wanted the public to get to know these women before seeing their work. This project is holistic in that it is not just about the work created - it is about the people who created the work. In providing this level of highly personal context to the choreography presented, I hope to bridge the gap between audience and artist in an authentic manner. Many of my non-artist friends and family see my life as this insanely foreign thing, and the life of an artist is a highly romanticized and idealized picture. With this interview series, I want to show that artists... well, they are just like you! And perhaps in that way, I can also show you that perhaps an artist lives inside you. I believe everyone can be a creative and inspired person. Maybe you just need some time... and space... some encouragement and some comfort... in order to unleash it.  It would be unfair to share the personal thoughts and feelings of my fellow cohort members without offering myself up for consumption along with them - so, in a show of solidarity, I'll go first. I hope you enjoy getting to know me!
that awkward moment when someone catches you talking to yourself... an interview with myselfHOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CREATING WORK AND IN WHAT CONTEXT? I started to take a serious interest in choreography during my sophomore year at Boston University. While at BU and for a few semesters after graduation, I created a number of student works for Dance Theatre Group, which operates under the direction of Micki Taylor-Pinney, with guest mentorship by a number of Boston-based artists and educators (in my time: Ann Brown Allen, Olivier Besson, Yo-el Cassell, Brian Feigenbaum, and Peter DiMuro). After graduation, I knew I wanted to focus on dancing and performing with seasoned choreographers, but I didn't want to lose my skill set in choreography, so I continued to create small works and solos through The Dance Complex's aMaSSiT program, which eventually I began to coordinate and administer on behalf of the organization. In the past few years, I've been dabbling with diving deeper into this portion of my artistry. I am still trying to figure out if it is something I want to prioritize in my professional career. I also make dance works for students - all sorts of students - ranging from recital pieces, to competition pieces, and even - yes - dance theater (for kids! yes it is possible!). Historically I have not counted this work as real choreography, but I have been trying to challenge that in myself recently. Creating is creation - regardless of the context. WHAT TENDS TO BE YOUR INSPIRATION OR CATALYST FOR CREATION? When I create dance theater works for students, I am almost exclusively driven by music and form. I love patterns - I have a very mathematical brain - and so I play with patterns in movement, in spacial relationships, and in rhythm/musicality. For whatever reason, I have never applied this to my professional work. I am very content-driven when creating in the professional realm, and often the content boils down to identity. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY? I dipped my toes into Boston dance very lightly upon graduation in 2012 when I joined KAIROS Dance Theater. With KAIROS I began performing in many of the big community-based events (Jose Mateo's Dance for World Community, shared concerts at The Dance Complex and Green Street Studios, Third Life Choreographers Series, etc). At the time, I was dancing with KAIROS and working a full time job in hotel accounting. In 2013, I quit my hospitality career in favor of dance, and stepped a little deeper into the water, working at The Dance Complex, first as a work-study and eventually in a number of creative programming and operations management roles. I would say I did not fully launch myself into the community until I began producing ...that's what she said. DURING YOUR TIME IN THE BOSTON DANCE COMMUNITY, WHAT HAVE YOU NOTICED ARE ITS STRENGTHS? ITS WEAKNESSES? DO YOU FEEL APART OF THE COMMUNITY? There are so many curious, energetic, and talented individuals here. When I see just how much STUFF is happening, I feel so proud of Boston dance - probably because I know that so much of that is happening despite a significant lack of funding and other necessary resources. So many people here stay in the game despite SO many reasons to quit or move. I respect that, and I respect the creativity and resourcefulness that staying and fighting these obstacles promotes. That being said, I think my number one frustration with the Boston dance community right now is our distinct inability to work together effectively. Resources - financial and otherwise - are scarce, and this creates a competitive atmosphere that prioritizes self above community. Though natural to an extent, I think this can be very detrimental. I have often said I feel like we are all fighting for who is losing the least, which seems like a waste of energy to me. I would like to see more strategic and supportive cross-promotion, partnerships, cost-sharing initiatives, and other such collective-based efforts in our community. I think this would eliminate some really ineffective political clashes and perhaps ease some really problematic tunnel-vision that occurs in Boston dance. WHO/WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER TO BE YOUR COMMUNITY? I feel really lucky to consider myself a part of many communities. I certainly feel a great deal of community within the companies that I regularly dance for (KAIROS Dance Theater and Peter DiMuro/Public Displays of Motion). Though I do not still work at The Dance Complex, I still feel really tied to the organization. It feels like home, and I enjoy being in a space where I know the staff and they know me, I pass many of the same people going in and out of class and rehearsal on a regular basis, and I know what to expect when I go to a show. I also feel that, as Lady BOS Productions, I have begun to build for myself a new community. I am not sure what defines this community yet... but I have begun to see a distinct following of people who are a part of our SHOW + TELL series, folks who attend our events whether physically or in spirit, and people who aren't directly a part of the audience or artist base, but who clearly support and align with the heart of the project. I especially feel this sense of community among all the women who have participated and are participating in ...that's what she said. THIS YEAR, YOU CHOSE TO USE TWSS TO BEGIN RESEARCHING AND WORKSHOPPING A PIECE ABOUT MASCULINITY. WHAT INSPIRED THIS PIECE, AND WHY DID YOU CHOOSE TO EXPLORE THIS MATERIAL IN THE CONTEXT OF A SHOW THAT ILLUMINATES THE EXPERIENCES OF WOMEN? For now, the most succinct way I can answer this question is to quote Gloria Steinem: "I'm glad we've begun to raise our daughters more like our sons, but it will never work until we raise our sons more like our daughters." WHAT HAS BEEN MOST GRATIFYING ABOUT PRODUCING TWSS OVER THE PAST FEW YEARS? I often feel like what I am doing is not enough, or that it is not done well enough, or that I jumped in too deep and cannot live up to what I have set out to do, or [insert more sentiments of self-doubt here]. However, when I have to sit down and look at the numbers, look at the results, and look at the funding, I realize how very much I have done with so very little. To date, this project has received no major source of funding from any granting organization in the Greater Boston area, and not for lack of trying. I am not yet 30 and I make less than $25,000 per year. And yet, I have repeatedly organized a project that brings together dozens of artists and engages hundreds of audience members. Though I have not paid these artists anywhere close to what their worth is, I have paid them equivalent to or more than the wages that a number of organizations in the Boston area (with considerably more resources) are offering. I have done this while still offering meaningful arts experiences to audiences at accessible admissions prices (or in some cases for free!). And I haven't gone [completely] broke [yet]. When I take the time to sit down and think about that... well, that is pretty damn gratifying. That and the relationships I have built. Those are priceless. WHAT OTHER OPPORTUNITIES HAVE YOU BEEN GRANTED OR HAVE YOU BEEN EXPLORING LATELY IN BOSTON DANCE? Most of the opportunities I have been exploring as an independent artist have been through programs, projects, and productions I have created as Lady BOS Productions. As a performing artist, I have had the pleasure of working with a number of talented people recently that have given me the opportunity of sharing my artistry in some really cool spaces at some really cool events. To name a few: performing at Jazz at Lincoln Center for four years in a row with KAIROS Dance Theater and performing at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and at the Rose Kennedy Greenway Rings Fountain with Public Displays of Motion, among others. AND! Big thank you to Andrea Blesso for coordinating a collaboration between myself, Tony Guglietti, and the most gifted Audrey Harrer - Tony and I were given the opportunity to perform movement scores within Audrey's multi-sensory harp/vocal musical performance Lavender at the BCA's Mills Gallery; the project later toured to the Maine International Film Festival. WHERE CAN WE LEARN MORE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR WORK? WHAT IS ON THE DOCKET AFTER TWSS? Please keep following Lady BOS Productions! There will be life after ...that's what she said and I want everyone to be a part of it! You can also follow my own stuff on my website, and the work that I do with KAIROS and PDM through their websites and social media platforms. WHAT SUPPORT DO YOU NEED MOST IN ORDER TO CONTINUE TO GROW AS AN ARTIST AND A MAKER? Sorry to be blunt, but I need money. I also really need someone to provide opportunities for me similar to those I am providing for the community. I am a big advocate of blooming where you are planted - which is why I've happily created opportunities for myself and others like me to bloom here in Boston with projects like ...that's what she said. But self production will only get me so far - I am dying for the opportunity to grow in the context of a residency, production, or other such program that I didn't also create on my own from scratch... :) ARTISTS LIKE KRISTIN AND PROJECTS LIKE "...THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID" ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPORT WITHOUT THE FINANCIAL GENEROSITY OF INDIVIDUALS LIKE YOU. PLEASE CONSIDER MAKING A DONATION OF $5-$500 BY FEBRUARY 21 TO KEEP CREATIVITY THRIVING IN THE CITY OF BOSTON.WRITTEN BY: KRISTIN WAGNERPublished: January 31, 2020 Photos by Olivia Moon Photography/@halfasianlens
About a week ago, I made a decision to cancel an event. This event had been published in several places already. I had graphics. I had a venue. I had performers. I had absolutely no energy to pull it off. In a moment of either sheer panic or divine intuition, I sent out the text to those who needed to know first: “I’m canceling the Bazaar. I just can’t do it.” I’ve never done anything like this before. In the past, I have generally used the public announcement of a thing to be a contract to myself: you will do this now, because you said you would. It was a way to hold myself accountable, to push myself out of my comfort zone and past my fear, and to force myself to continue growing and doing and experiencing and living. A good friend asked me if I felt relieved after pulling the trigger. I wish I had. In truth, I felt like a failure. I said I was going to do something, and then I decidedly did not do it. I broke a contract to myself, and it felt terrible. Naturally, when you cancel something that has been put in motion, people ask why. Furthermore, when you are presenting yourself as an organization, and you cancel something that has been announced as part of your season, you need a reason why. I’ve spent the last week trying to put into words the reason why. Why couldn’t I put the event on? What happened? The simplest answer to give was that obstacles were continuing to present themselves and I was unable to overcome them. This much is true: there are easily twice as many holiday markets this year as compared to last. This means higher competition for traffic and for vendors. The purpose of my events are to bring together diverse communities of artists and their respective audiences in order to foster new relationships and build a wider, more robust artistic community. I love this mission. I think it holds value. However, I understand that for many artisans selling their wares during the most heavily shopped month in the year, priorities are a bit more monetary than they are kumbaya. It was much harder to find people who would commit to selling this year, and that is a problem when you are planning a bazaar. Beyond that, I had volunteers back out and I was short on time to secure the donations needed to keep costs of producing the event down. These obstacles are real and they are valid. I think I could easily hide behind these obstacles alone, but in reality, the biggest obstacle was me. I am exhausted. I am fatigued to the very core of my being. I am so tired I truly think I could sleep for 24 hours straight if my schedule and anxiety allowed it. At the tail end of the summer, I posted an incredible article from the Harvard Business Review on my Facebook page. In “When Passion Leads to Burnout,” Jennifer Moss discusses the emotional and mental roller coaster of doing what you love for a living. Ms. Moss writes, “I love my work, and as such, can easily fall victim to burnout… I would never claim that it doesn’t ever feel like work. It is more like being involved in a complicated love affair. One minute it’s thrilling, passionate, engaging. The next, it’s exhausting and overwhelming, and I feel like I need a break.” She goes on to explain the unique conundrum that is “purpose-driven burnout” caused by “obsessive passion.” To paraphrase, when you care (a lot), you work (A LOT). I recall reading this article in the middle of the night in a burst of insomnia induced by panic over how behind I was in preparing for the upcoming season of teaching, performing, and producing. I read with a few tears slipping down my cheek: I saw myself in every sentence and I had no idea what to do about it. I have been told by a few mentors now that perhaps I should condense: do I need to teach AND to perform AND to create AND to produce? One individual went so far as to suggest I was unfocused. Should I cut back? Probably. But when you do what you love, it can be very difficult to distinguish what to cut back on. I honestly believe that having my hands in as many aspects of the dance world as possible guides my creative process and enhances my creativity. Teaching encourages me to define my artistic philosophy and my students inspire me to continue learning, growing and exploring. Producing allows me time and space to exchange and collaborate with other artists. Performing unlocks a part of me that I need access to in order to make sense of the world around me. Creating challenges me to construct a language with which to express those thoughts, feelings, perspectives, and ideas for which I lack words. Being an artist makes me a better arts administrator and vice versa. Teaching makes me a better performer and choreographer and vice versa. It all intersects: I need each component to fulfill my potential. How could I cut back? On the flip side, if I can’t cut back: how can I survive? As I type that last sentence, I am recalling a meme I saw on Facebook that read “True self-care is not soft baths and chocolate cake. It is making a choice to build a life you don’t need to regularly escape from.” I’ve been trying to alter the way I use language while I teach, in particular exchanging the verb “to force.” For example, I began to notice how often I would say, “If you do it this way, it’ll force you to…” I’ve been swapping out “force” with “encourage” as I think about the type of language that instills a sense of support, autonomy, and consent in the young populations with whom I work. “If you allow your head to spiral in toward the movement, notice how it will encourage the momentum to continue in that direction” Doesn’t that sound much more positive? In my first edit of this very post, I caught myself using that unsettling verb again, when I said “It was a way to hold myself accountable… to force myself to continue growing...” In college, I read Succeeding When You’re Supposed to Fail by Rom Brafman. Mr. Brafman concludes his book - which is based on the anthropological and psychological study of underdogs and designed to teach you how to overcome the odds and “make it” in this crazy world - with his unscientific but rather heartfelt personal pointers on how to succeed. It was in this section that he wrote, “Don’t treat yourself any differently than you’d treat your best friend.” This sentence has stuck with me for years, and I have worked hard to grow into a person who can heed this advice often. Every now and then, I realize that my work is not done. This moment is one of them: why use language toward myself that I have realized is not healthy for my students? Why should I “force” myself to grow? “Force” seems hostile and aggressive; it feels nonconsensual. It eliminates a healthy environment for growth. In fact, you cannot force growth: no matter how loudly you yell at a plant to bloom, it is only the encouraging factors (water, sunlight, fertilizer, etc) that will create results. I want to continue to challenge myself. I want to maintain an active, multifaceted life full of various stimuli. But I do not want to continue to “force” myself to do anything. I don’t want to “survive” my life, particularly when I’ve structured that life around a passion I do truly love. So what is the answer? A respected mentor told me that my life is a dance that I get to choreograph. In choreography, stillness is not dead. On the contrary, it allows space and time for movement to become clearer and more pronounced in contrast. Perhaps my life needs some more stillness; or, as Ms. Moss most succinctly stated, maybe I just need to take a freaking break. I guess I won’t know until I try. In summary, consider this my formal announcement. After careful consideration, I have decided to cancel my second annual Mrs. Claus’ Bizarre Bazaar. I will be reimagining my January SHOW + TELL event instead, and I am very excited to say I’ve found a like-minded local dance company to partner with so I will have help with the workload. I can’t wait to announce those details soon. This post almost went in about a dozen different directions. I chose to keep it fairly simple and personal. This post is what I had the time for. It is what I had the energy for. It is what felt right. However, I would like to note that I am not uncommon. Many women work extremely hard, and experience incredibly high rates of burnout. Research for this piece encouraged a great deal of reading about the outdated feminist fantasy of “having it all,” as well as statistical data supporting that women regularly work harder for much less than male counterparts, exhaustion rates for women, and more. I highly recommend clicking some of the links and contextualizing my experience - and perhaps your own experience - because at the root, this is not merely a personal journey for me to traverse. It is actually a societal problem that we should all be examining and trying to right together. CONTINUED READINGEach of these is hyperlinked for your convenience! Read up, folks!
When Passion Leads to Burnout by Jennifer Moss Why Women Have to Work Harder to Be Promoted by Leonora Risse Why Are Women So Exhausted? by Jean Kim The Complicated Origins of 'Having It All' by Jennifer Szalai Seriously, Why Are We Still Asking If Women Can 'Have It All'? by Marie-Claire Chappet Having It All: Feminism, Dreams and Family by Christa Hogan My car died a few weeks ago, in the pouring rain, as I was taking a turn off Mass Ave onto Boylston Street by Berklee. If you know Boston, you know this is an unfortunate place to break down. I frantically turned my keys in the ignition over and over, as if my car had simply misunderstood what it was supposed to do for a moment and would come to its senses. Eventually, resigned to reality, I got out of my car and stood motioning others to drive around me as I sat on hold with AAA, the lovely soundtrack of cars honking and drivers yelling “ASSHOLE” serenading me as cold rain seeped through my sneakers and soaked my socks. A kind man pulled over and offered to give me a jump. “I’m not sure it will work,” I said, explaining that I had been waiting for a part to arrive at my mechanic; the car likely gave out before the part arrived. “Well, we can try! Maybe we can get you over to the side where you’ll be safer.” So we tried, and for one blissful minute my car drove safely onto Boylston before breaking down again. Disappointing, yes, but as he said: at least we got the car over to a safer place to wait until AAA arrived. While waiting, I sat in my car and read the news: after 28 years of service to the Greater Boston dance community, Green Street Studios would be closing its doors on October 27. Rent hikes had presented obstacles that simply could not be overcome. In this moment, I thought, “Surely the world is ending.” Was this dramatic? Yes. However, I was literally broken down on the side of the road in the rain reading of another example of the erasure of art and community in favor of… who knows? Luxury condos? Hip retail space? Tech offices? I don’t know what the space will become, but I have a pretty good feeling whatever it is, it won’t be meant for me. It was, in my opinion, a moment that warranted dramatics. Each dancer in the Boston area has a different relationship to the spaces that house us and our work. Allow me to briefly share my relationship to GSS. Coming into the second season of ...that’s what she said, and the first full season as Lady BOS Productions, I was in need of a dance home for a variety of the activities I was planning. This project was, and still is, very much a fledgling endeavor. Money is tight, and sometimes nonexistent, and being so green, there is not much else to barter with as my reach and my audience are more limited than those I am approaching for help. When I reached out to Green Street Studios to be the “home” of the project, I don’t even recall these issues coming up. I presented my mission, my proposed plan, and my experience to those in charge, and was greeted with a fairly immediate “Yes, this is what we want to support.” Do you have any idea how gratifying a simple “yes” can be? Where other organizations immediately responded with prices and policies, GSS responded with excitement and ideas. And if you are thinking, “Well, maybe that is why other organizations stay open and Green Street had to close…” then you are using a limited perspective. I have seen many artists posting along the lines of “I know the writing was on the wall for awhile, but I am still sad to see GSS close.” This is not really a fair statement. Yes, Green Street has a history of struggle. For the first five years of my dance career in this community, I felt as if GSS was at all times on the verge of closing down due to financial distress and physical disrepair. However, in the past two years, the organization turned a corner. Building improvements have been consistent and considerable, and the financial condition was stabilizing as well. Yes, Green Street evaluated my project budget alongside their own, and they provided a contract listing their policies and procedures. They evaluated how my project would fit into their financial and operational needs. They did their due diligence and we worked together to ensure the relationship was mutually beneficial. Green Street also evaluated what could be, for themselves, for me, for the artists I was working with, and for the community. They considered what could happen if they helped fertilize this young project, and, most importantly, they led the discussion from that frame of mind. In this way, GSS was very much like the guy that jumped my car in the rain: maybe this will work, or maybe it won’t, but regardless it won’t hurt us to try so let’s try. Let’s see if we can get you where you want to go. Because new leadership worked tirelessly to revitalize Greet Street, they were in a financial position to offer help, and so they did. They used their prosperity to nurture me. They showed me that their space was a space for me: a space for my inquiry, for my growth, for my experimentation, and for my art. For that, I am forever thankful. Whether you have had a personal relationship to Green Street Studios or not, if you are a dancer in Boston, this closure affects you. With three less studios to occupy, our community, for whom space was already a precious and scarce resource, is now scrambling. Studios that remain in the area have already experienced the frantic chaos of teachers and choreographers desperately searching for a new home for their classes, their rehearsals, and their performances. As we navigate the confusion, anger, and sadness of this news - all of which, really just amounts to grief - please try to remember the importance of kindness and grace. I have seen an upswing of community engagement and organizing, which is wonderful. I have also seen a natural, but nevertheless unpleasant, amount of negativity and public venting. As we note the systemic problems that have led us to the situation we are in, let’s remember to approach conversations with respect and humility. At this point in my life, I have worked for and with several nonprofit arts organizations. Regardless of what funding and other resources you perceive them to have, let me assure you: struggle abounds. I have also worked with dozens and dozens of artists, each of whom has varying operational practices, financial needs, and artistic values and philosophies. Again, struggle abounds, and each of us chooses to handle and combat that struggle in very, very different ways. I note this specifically to highlight the complexity and nuance of building spaces and demanding resources “to support the dance community.” It is a tall order to ask any one space, organization, or even politician, to “support” us, when we are all over the map in terms of what we need, what we want, and what we have. Yes, question the status quo, but balance that with respect for the efforts being made. Yes, speak your truth, but balance that with an understanding that your truth isn’t the only truth. Yes, speak with authority on topics you feel well versed in, but balance that by recognizing you do not know everything. And yes, be mad as hell, but balance that with empathy for those around you who may be grieving differently, but grieving nonetheless. It is easy to slam your horn and scream out your window at the car that is broken down and blocking your path. But it isn’t very effective, and it isn’t very kind. Think of the person driving that car: their toes are probably cold. Offer them a jump. That is how a community should behave. That is how Green Street behaved. WRITTEN BY: Kristin Wagner Published October 23, 2019
From a very simple friendship group to a community of people worldwide, support systems are an integral part of being a person. Studies show that social support actually improves health qualities in an individual. Imagine that. Our interaction with others directly impacts our health and well-being. Researchers Wiseman and Brasher in the public health industry define community wellbeing as, “...the combination of social, economic, environmental, cultural, and political conditions identified by individuals and their communities as essential for them to flourish and fulfill their potential,” emphasizing “connectedness, livability, and equity” as the three main factors to measure. As humans, we are wired for interaction by connecting with one another, living well, and producing for the next generation. Now is the time where (of course!) we talk about how each individual values personal time to recharge, and how some people don’t like a lot of interaction - or even prefer being alone rather than with other people. That’s okay. I’m sure the interaction they have while out in public, on the phone with their close friend or family member, or even in a workplace setting, functions just as well. Regardless, that’s not exactly the intention of this post. Rather we need to explore communities as a whole - on a broader level instead of on an individual one. Abraham Maslow, the esteemed human behavioral psychologist, lists friendships and personal relationships just after food/water and personal safety. So after finishing supper and you’re lounging on the couch - do you text a friend? Aside from the general well-being of people around the world, there are many different sub-communities that also support specific types of individuals - not according to location. Women everywhere are in need of support in a multitude of ways. From guidance while being young, encouragement as a young adult, to advice when making life choices, or even providing their own ways to support women - many are still in need. EVEN MORE GRANULARFor our women artists and creative types, the need for expression is always pressing. However, most communities lack proper exposure, funding, other same-types, a place to call home for art produced, or any combination of these. That’s exactly why it’s important to have these institutions work with women at the bedrock of a community. The arts hold culture, value, and enrichment for the surrounding general community and various sub-communities, too. Allowing for multidisciplinary and communal enrichment, artists are free to incubate new ideas and execute them in a sound environment filled with other creatives. Music, art, dance, theatre - all require a space and people to do so. WITH THE CORRECT APPROACHFrom a national perspective, “The National Endowment for the Arts is committed to providing assistance to artist communities for projects that encourage and nurture the development of individual artists and foster and inspire their creative processes.” Trickling down from the NEA are each region, state, county, city, and even neighborhood - all providing ways to help if not also serve as communities for artists and artistic expression. A PERFECT CULMINATIONLady BOS Productions is an artistic support system for female and femme-identifying dancers. Being a part of a production like ...that’s what she said not only enriches the creating artists, but also your local community of patrons. Help us celebrate the culmination of this production. Show support for this arts-centric, dance-expressive, femme-tailored community program (You may just live a little longer, too.) Learn more about LadyBos Productions and how you can be a part of this community, and if you can, please donate to help support the company’s work. WRITTEN BY: VICTORIA NUNWEILERPublished April 5, 2019
Wage gaps have been a hot conversation topic well before the entrance of the women to the workforce in the mid-20th century. By 1943, women made up 65 percent of the industry’s total workforce (compared to just 1 percent in the pre-war years). Since then, wages still have not caught up for everyone working today to ensure an evenly paid workforce. NOT JUST A CORPORATE THINGUnfortunately, this inequality seems to have leaked into all areas of the American workforce - and the arts are definitely not immune. A recent study reported by NPR’s social science correspondent Shankar Vedantam found that the difference in wage gaps between men and women in the arts was more than $13,000. But what does this mean for a field full of individuals who are often outspoken in the interest of gender equality? “Unconsciously, we may be doing something differently than we are consciously,” explained Vendantam. Maybe there needs to be a reevaluation of how we address this gap. With recent discussions of having corporations report salaries, or explorations of setting minimum wages in art organizations, could be a great start. Clearly, transparently, and communicatively approach the gap to close it. Typically being considered as self-employed individuals, artists (both visual and performing) can fall outside the bounds of regulated wages. Following expensive training and education, aspiring artists are expected to scrape by with little means of supporting themselves. The arts require complete dedication to “make it”, or prove oneself to professionals - an act of self-destruction in the name of a passion with high hopes of succeeding. This could dissuade talented individuals - and we absolutely do not want that. In this age of digital attentiveness and quick communication, platforms should be used as an open forum, and at the very least, to keep the conversation going. 'VERY LOW WAGES'A few years ago, fringe actors based in London proposed they receive a minimum wage, regardless of a break-even show. The producer of the show thought it was a worthwhile exploration of theatre, however, and did not report any notable income from the performance - resulting in no pay for hard-worked hours in prep work, rehearsals, and performance. These actors pursued an employment tribunal case which appealed directly for minimum wage - but lost. In the United States, there are minimum wages in place. But let’s be honest, the minimum wage is not meant to be lived off of forever and we can’t expect artists to do the same. From a nonprofit arts organization’s view, a regulated minimum wage may be difficult to process, let alone comply with. Now add in that wage gap and you can see a highly stratified view of the gender wage gap in the arts - it’s not a pretty picture. Much like the producer of the London show mentioned above, the issue of wage gaps and the ability to pay artists, in general, comes down to a fundamental funding issue. Running a nonprofit does not mean that you can run it without a profit. For performing arts specifically, a viable organization cannot and will not survive on ticket sales alone. In a for-profit entity, diverse revenue streams equal stable income and a well-rounded portfolio. This same strategy is employed by very successful nonprofit organizations who rely on a diverse revenue stream as well. PICTURE THISTwo buckets. Bucket One collects rainwater and Bucket Two you fill with a hose. Both water your beloved flower garden. Say Bucket One starts to run empty because this is your primary water resource for your garden. You look in the bucket and see that there is little left - because it hasn’t rained in a while. No worries! You’ve got Bucket Two, that you fill from the hose, and you can still water your garden. Save the cheesy metaphor and think about it in terms of earned and unearned income. Too often performing arts organizations rely heavily on ticket sales and not enough on fundraising revenue. Ticket sales or other forms of service revenue are time constrained, leaving no room to make more money once the event has passed. Funds that are raised, however, are typically not time-restricted, and can fall in that bucket when needed. A successful performing arts organization has both so that when it hasn’t rained in a while, they can still water their flowers. A two-way streetIn addition to having diverse revenue streams, it is also important for arts policymakers and advocates to continue the conversation of (at the very least) minimum wages and (at the very most) closing the gap. Remember our dear friends the fringe actors? In Edinburgh, the “City Council is to produce a report on how to promote fair working conditions at the fringe.” Advocates want to ensure proper contracting to result in proper pay. Wage requirements coupled with well-organized fundraising initiatives will ensure our artists do not stay “starving.” Be the changeAdvocacy starts with an idea, and funding starts with a donation. Find your forte and give however you can. Crowdfunding is a term that refers to any effort to raise money with donations from a large number of people. Crowdsourcing is the umbrella term for anyone not (as of yet) affiliated with an organization to become a part of one. A few years ago, a small bookstore based in California was facing foreclosure due to a minimum wage increase (sound familiar?). Thus “Crowdsourcing A Beloved Bookstore’s Minimum Wage Raise” was the answer to their growing problem. Here are a few ideas to get you started:
The anticipated aggregate expense of LadyBOS’s next production ...that's what she said is $20,000+. From Monday, February 18 at 9am through Wednesday, March 27 at 11:30pm, Lady BOS Productions is campaigning to raise $8,000 to assist with the costs of this project. Please consider supporting this important endeavor! Written by: victoria nunweilerPublished March 19, 2019
This year is the first that I decided to use International Women’s Day as a promotional opportunity for my artistic ventures. Feeling pressured to raise awareness and momentum for ...that’s what she said, I prepared my social media posts and email campaigns hastily in the middle of the day this past Friday March 8. I thought to myself, “I should have done this yesterday so I could post and send first thing in the morning. Now I am competing with media that has been going strong all day about International Women’s Day, and I’ll just be lost in the onslaught.” While these thoughts ran through my mind, I felt a pang in my chest. Something didn’t seem quite right. On a day meant to celebrate the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women globally, I was sitting at my computer struggling with how to compete with other women for attention. It shouldn’t be a competition. I began to reflect back on the first time I had learned of International Women’s Day. It was March 8, 2011, and I had just arrived to my hostel in Budapest, Hungary, fresh off an overnight train from Prague. My boyfriend and I were exhausted - we hadn’t slept a wink on our 9 hour train - and we were primed for a fight about what to do first: sleep or see the sights. Our host greeted us warmly, and showed us to our room. He gestured to a small potted flower in the corner and indicated that it was for me. “Happy International Women’s Day,” he said simply, and then left. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was touched nevertheless. It was a kind gesture. I left it at that. My boyfriend and I took a power nap and then headed off to the famous Roman baths of Budapest and I didn’t think of International Women’s Day again for a few years. my delayed ascent to feminismMany who know me now would be shocked to learn that my ascent to feminism was quite delayed. Not only did I not identify as a feminist until after graduating college, I actually opposed the feminist movement throughout high school and college. This is not unusual: in August 2018, Refinery29 released a poll of more than 2000 millennial women, more than 50% of whom do not identify as feminists. Similar studies have been released by Pew and Gallup polls, and the Spring 2016 Harvard Public Opinion Project poll clocked female millennial support of the feminist movement at just 49%. When I think about the girl that I was in high school, I am sometimes at a loss to explain how it was that I did not support feminism. I remember, as early as grade school, competing with boys in gym class over strength and endurance - firmly believing that I was completely capable of outdoing them in push ups, sit ups, and flexibility, because dancers - and girls in general - were just as fit in mind and body as any of the athletic boys in the class. In 9th grade, I wrote my semester thesis paper on the real-life validity of the movie Mean Girls, stating a firm belief that girls are cruel to one another primarily because they are competing with one another to obtain an unrealistic Disney Princess fairytale romance with boys at school. These seem to be the thoughts and feelings of a feminist in the making… and yet, I couldn’t think of a word dirtier than “feminist” for many of my teenage years. The same Harvard Public Opinion Project discovered that, despite not identifying as feminists, 68% of the women surveyed believed there to be a glass ceiling limiting women’s ability to advance in career and financial security. The study states: “It seems that young Americans are reticent to attach themselves to the idea of feminism even when they perceive limited prospects for American women. While roughly half of the Millennial generation supports feminism, only 27 percent affirmatively identify as feminist.” why do young women reject feminism?As our political climate becomes increasingly polarized and heated, this seems to be the question circulating around many social activist groups. Most often, this seems to be an issue of branding. Julie Zeilinger, of Women’s Media Center, writes of an experience at Barnard’s Young Women’s Leadership Institute, at which she had the opportunity to ask 55 teen girls about their feelings regarding the term “feminist.” She says, “The biggest reason I have come across, especially when considering my own friends, is lack of understanding of what feminism actually is and/or fearing the stigma of the word. There really are so many girls who think being a feminist just means hating men, or thinking women are BETTER than men. Or they really just have no idea.” This sentiment is echoed by numerous interviews conducted by Refinery29 as well as Babe.Net, with respondents stating, in a variety of ways, that “the movement it’s now become doesn’t represent my views” (Liat, age 20, Babe.Net). The Harvard Public Opinion Project notes, “The complicated history of feminism as a term and as a movement may turn some young Americans away from connecting themselves to the label. It is perhaps unsurprising, then, that support for feminism among young Americans is so low and that identification as feminist even less common.” The only comment on the article, from user FreedomFirst, states: “Bigoted, reverse-sexist, female supremacist, and fascist hatred packaged as 'equality' seems to be a hard sell everywhere but in Orwellian academic cesspools like Harvard wherein feminists bigots rule the roost. The constant lies, falsehoods, and misrepresentations that feminists are infamous for also may be turning most Americans aways from this filthy term.” then and nowAs a woman who now proudly declares myself a feminist, this can be difficult to read. At the same time, I can’t say I don’t understand the theory. My younger self definitely subscribed to many of these lines of thought, though with far less vehemence and hostility. I think the real reason I so thoroughly rejected feminism for so long was much more complicated. To put it simply: high school sucked. I know that is not an uncommon opinion, but when I say that high school sucked, I mean it really, really sucked. And it sucked predominantly because of the behavior of the girls around me. Prior to high school, I was quite the social butterfly. I remember struggling in grade school to narrow down lists of friends to a reasonably sized birthday party guest lists. In middle school, I ran about carefree with a variety of friends. I loved to go to the movies, to Starbucks, to the mall, on hikes through the woods, with any and all friends. By the time I turned 16, while others in my grade planned elaborate Sweet Sixteen formals, I wanted nothing more than a simple dinner out with my family, my boyfriend and my one female friend. There is a picture of me at a pre-Prom picture party senior year, sandwiched awkwardly amidst 18 girls posing prettily for the cameras. My smile conveys a level of terror - I remember being pushed into that picture by my boyfriend. I remember feeling an intense anxiety; I would have rather been invisible than stand in that line of girls. This past November, Avon High School held the 10 year reunion for the class of 2008. I wasn’t invited, either having been forgotten entirely, or simply not wanted. I have previously written publicly about the bullying I experienced in high school, and at some point, I will share that writing again here. For now, though, I will keep it simple. For nearly a decade of my life, boys were not the enemy. Girls were. Girls called me names. Girls said horrible things to me. Girls excluded me, teased me, and harassed me. Boys were my safety net. My best friends were boys. Boys always let me sit at the lunch table with them. Girls were mean. Boys were funny. Girls hated me. Boys loved me. My beloved Grandmother said to me once, when I was 20, that in the end, my female friendships would be the most important relationships in my life. I didn’t believe her. At that time, I was still dating the boy I thought I would marry. He was everything. He was the most important relationship in my life. Girls were unreliable. He wasn’t. He was safe. He was enough, and I didn’t want more. It hurt too much to want more. Now, less than a decade later, I have already found that she was right. When I think about who makes up my community now, it is almost exclusively female. When I think about who I trust the most, who will always be there for me, who I can count on to love me when I can’t love myself - the overwhelming majority of people who come to mind are female. It took a long time to unpack and recognize the true nature of the boys that I always surrounded myself with. It took me even longer to work through the deep-rooted self-loathing and internalized misogyny that made it easier for me to keep these boys around me than to trust the girls that tried to befriend me. People can be good, people can be bad, and people can make mistakes. That extends to both genders and to folks who do not identify with one gender or another. At this point, I have learned to analyze better the context surrounding each person’s behavior. Contextualizing the past, understanding the futureI will never excuse the behavior of my high school bullies. What they did to me was wrong and brought on a life-long struggle with self esteem and self worth that I did not deserve. That being said, the woman I am today can look back on the girls they were then and understand the context surrounding their behavior. It is easier to call another girl a slut than it is to feel comfortable and safe exploring your own feelings about sexuality. It is simpler to say horrible things to another person than it is to investigate how you feel about yourself. It is very difficult to grow up a girl who values and respects herself and other girls, in a world that overall does not seem to value or respect girls or women at all. We live in a world that scapegoats women, repeatedly, for all kinds of offenses, big and small. How can such a world foster a favorable view of a movement designed to support this seemingly deplorable gender? Whether you are the bully or the victim, the heart of the matter remains the same: girls are bad. Girls are mean. Girls are hysterical. Girls are illogical. Girls are passive aggressive. Girls are ruthless. Girls are weak. Girls are not boys. Even if you agree that competent women should be able to run the world, this is a system that is designed to question the intentions of those who are “too loud” or “too fierce” in their desire to do so. It is easy to make “feminism” a dirty word. Haven’t you noticed how easy it is to dirty anything female? When I think about the girl that I was before high school, the girl I became throughout high school and college, and the woman that I am today, it is almost incredible to see these three very distinct phases in my life - almost as if I lived several lives condensed into a few decades. It has been, in many ways, excessively exhausting. And yet… I believe it has given me the clarity to understand others in a uniquely patient way. It makes me sad to think so many young women reject a term meant to bolster their value on a global scale, but I understand it. I think that perhaps because I understand it, I can rectify the misunderstandings that have so confused the feminist movement. I am still working to learn and grow, and I am far from a women’s history expert. I am incredibly grateful for the work other individuals have done to create enough space for me to continue to learn and grow, to reflect on these experiences, and to attempt to continue to encourage thought and change surrounding these topics. I am grateful for International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month, and other holidays and annual dates that shine spotlight on female achievements while also reminding the world that we aren’t quite “there” yet - the place we want to be. There is more work to be done, and we don’t have to compete with one another to complete that work. After all, the point of feminism is to make more space for everyone at the table, isn’t it? written by: kristin wagnerPublished March 14, 2019
Research: https://www.internationalwomensday.com http://harvardpolitics.com/hprgument-posts/47892/ https://babe.net/2016/05/20/spoke-girls-dont-identify-feminists-asked-4100 https://www.nationalreview.com/corner/millennial-women-are-skeptical-of-feminism-and-abortion/ https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/midterm-election-women-dont-identify-as-feminists |
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