When I was a university dancer I read a short little essay by dancer, choreographer, and writer Agnes DeMille (Rodeo, My Fair Lady). Her words served as a compass in those turbulent years when I was still trying to decide on what career ocean I'd sail. I clearly remember that the feeling of encouragement and passion in those words were exactly what I needed to hear. Now I'm 30 years older and I have docked the performance boat in a calm harbor, so to speak. My life has been a truly fulfilling vogage and I wish that for each of you.
When my partner husband and I lived and danced in New York, we would often go to performances where there were only 5 or 10 people in the audience. Sometimes those performances would get reviews. When we, with our duet company, performed in New York, there were maybe 20 or 30 people sitting in the loft audience. During the 15 years when we toured with our company far away from the Big Apple, often in rural communities, it was not unusual for us to dance for an audience of 500, even occasionally 1000 in the schools, festivals, and community centers. While those audiences in New York were comprised of important and influential people (some of whom we are profoundly grateful to like Don McDonagh, our New York Times reviewer), performing for 500 children and adults who had never seen live theatrical dance, and who obviously enjoyed our show, was as much if not more satisfying than performing in NYC. Did we make History (with a capital H)? No. Did we perform in the most renowned theaters? No. But wow, when those thousands and thousands of ordinary young people who saw us think of dance, they might, and probably do, think of our show. While they might not remember our names, they will see us in their mind's eye and that frisson of kinetic and gut level recognition will follow. It's the sort of temporal immortality that's good enough for me.
Young dancers out there, I want you to hear this because many of you right now are making hard decisions about what to do after you graduate, or if you have graduated, some of you are telling yourself, that after some failed auditions, you might as well quit, hang it up, and do something practical with your lives.
Dancing IS practical. It can earn you a living, at least partially, if you are talented and if you have the love of moving and performing. What's more, it is an incredibly honorable life to lead, to be a performing artist. It is an unselfish offering of self. It's what you can give to others - who need hope and excitement, or just that little bit of beauty or escape in their lives that seeing dance so generously gives the viewer. Don't give up now. "Tenacity", as Meredith Monk says. "Tenacity".
Get your education. Get an internship with a company who dances for children. Read a how to book, check out companies on Youtube. Use this website as a resource. Prepare, work hard, and this career path will work for you. I remember very well the first teacher who told me I would never dance professionally. (Actually, dear gentleman, you did me a favor and I'm not mad at you any more. I just ignored you and danced anyway.) Other people's negative judgments of you only hold true if you allow them that power and if you believe what they say. Listen to praise. Sift through criticism. There is a life in performance for all of you, if you are talented, well trained, and if you really want to dance. But you have to make it happen.
There is an audience out there, waiting for you to make your entrance. Go for it.
