The Artist's Compass

The Complete Guide to Building a Life and a Living in the Performing Arts

Rachel Moore

• Publisher: Atria Books
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781501105982
• Topic: Negocios y empresa
• Subtopic: Negocios en general

An inspiring, real world guide for artists, in the classic bestselling tradition of What Color Is Your Parachute?, that shows how to build a successful, stable career in the performing arts, from the President and CEO of The Music Center in Los Angeles, who has carved her own success through her creative talent and business skill. While performing artists have many educational opportunities to perfect their craft, they are often on their own when it comes to learning the business skills necessary to launch their careers. At the end of the day, show business is, well, a business. In The Artist's Compass, Rachel Moore (who rose from a dancer in the American Ballet Theater's corps de ballet to become the CEO of that organization—and is today the head of The Music Center in LA) shares how to make life as a performer more successful, secure, and sustainable by approaching a career in the arts like an entrepreneur.Misty Copeland calls Moore "a great example of a woman who used the skills that we gain as dancers to become a leader, " and it's those hard-won lessons she imparts to a new generation of artists in this book—encouraging every performer to develop marketable skills alongside their creative talent. With testimonials from artists like Lang Lang, Sigourney Weaver, and Renee Fleming, plus inspiring anecdotes from Moore's own journey in the arts, The Artist's Compass teaches aspiring performers how to take charge of their own careers and how to create their own brand and marketing platform to achieve personal and professional success.In an engaging, "realistic, but also passionate" ( Publishers Weekly ) voice, Moore combines her artistic and corporate experience to address the finer points of building a career in a challenging industry. The Artist's Compass is the essential success guide for aspiring artists, driving home the point that honing professional skills beyond the stage is not forsaking one's art, but for the sake of one's art.

– Chapter One –

What Does Success Look Like to You?

Assessing Your Goals and Strengths as an Artist

It is necessary . . . for a man to go away by himself . . . to sit on a rock . . . and ask of himself, “Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?”

—CARL SANDBURG

I love speaking to students about career development, but I’ve found that whenever I ask what they intend to do after graduation, even the most gifted among them get that deer-in-the-headlights expression in their eyes and draw a complete blank.

Why is this such a tough question for so many young artists to answer? I think it’s because so many of their waking hours are spent focusing on the details—the exact movement of an arm, the precise fingering of a complex musical passage, the exact inflection of a monologue—that they can lose sight of the big picture: Why am I doing all this hard work, anyway? And what is it that I hope to achieve? What, after all is said and done, does success look like for me?

Let’s face it, most performing artists spend a lot of time comparing themselves to others in one way or another—physical appearance, intelligence, professional skills, personality, ambition (or lack thereof), and talent. While these sorts of comparisons may be relatively common, I would venture to say that they are particularly poisonous for those in the performing arts.

Don’t get me wrong. Self-assessment is not a bad thing. In fact, it’s absolutely necessary, so long as it’s objective and realistic. Why? Because if we are truly aware of who we are and how we stack up against others in our field, we will be better prepared to define what it is that makes us unique and, therefore, to project that image to the world and make it work to our advantage.

The problem is that, for those in the performing arts, this process is especially complicated: For one thing, assuming you’ve achieved a certain level of proficiency in your chosen field, there is really no objective standard against which to measure any one person’s artistry. And because that judgment is subjective at best, what differentiates you from your peers becomes more about style and personality, or what is generally referred to as “voice,” than about actual skill level. Your unique voice is ultimately going to be the thing that sets you apart and becomes your artistic calling card. In marketing terms, it will be your brand.

As a student of the performing arts, you are schooled to take correction and pursue a virtually unattainable level of perfection, and so your opinion of your own skill level may be skewed by an overdeveloped inner critic or an underdeveloped trust in your own achievements. But demeaning your own abilities in the service of self-assessment or seeming humility is neither helpful nor constructive. As a very wise teacher once said to me, “If you constantly put yourself down—even if you don’t particularly believe it—you will end up believing it. How you describe yourself to others and yourself is extremely powerful, so be fair about your strengths and weaknesses, but don’t start beating yourself up—you will get nowhere.”

Two basic truths I’ve discovered in the course of my own career as well as in the careers of those whom I’ve mentored and overseen for the last few decades are:

1. In order to be truly happy in your career, you need to define success for yourself rather than letting others define it for you.

2. The key to success in the arts (no matter how you define it) is, in the end, a matter of identifying and following your unique voice as a performer.

DEFINING YOUR VOICE

So what is your voice—your unique personality, perspective, and way of expressing your particular art? You need to value your voice, your particular contribution, figure out how it fits into the changing world of the performing arts, and find a way for that voice to be heard. What is it that you want to say to the world? What special thing do you have to contribute to your art? For me it was being able to feel the music and use what I felt to bring something personal and special to my performance through timing, expression, and technique.

Whenever I see a group of young dancers in a classroom, all of whom are on approximately the same level, I look for the one who has an internal perspective that brings something special to everything he or she does. It could be the way she uses her arms, her timing, the way he looks up and out that projects confidence in his performance, or the fact that, when there’s room for interpretation, she makes an interesting and elegant choice—not simply to stand out, but always in service of the art. In fact, I believe that in most instances, those who stand out, especially at a young age, make those choices unconsciously, as an organic expression of who they are. The truth of this was brought home to me once again as I recently watched a video showing a class of kids dancing to Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars’s “Uptown Funk.” Right in the middle of the front row was a tiny eight-year-old—the smallest kid in the group—who was hitting each movement with an energy that just screamed “Watch me!” That kid had attitude, but he also had the coordination and the talent to back it up.

The same was true when I was running a classical music school in Boston. There were always those kids who had a really good ear and were technically advanced—and then there were the ones who would actually bring magic to their music. One of them was Tony Rymer, a little boy with a big smile who wanted to be a cellist. It was clear from the moment he walked onto the stage as a second grader that Tony had a gift. His eyes sparkled while he played, his technical skills came naturally, his sound was warm and true, and his performance radiated with an inner confidence. Tony went on to graduate from the New England Conservatory of Music and is now a professional cellist. He has won numerous competitions and performed major concerti to critical acclaim with the Atlanta Symphony, the Boston Pops, the Cleveland Orchestra, and the Detroit Symphony.

As a young performer you need to figure out what you have to contribute to the world, why you do certain things in a certain way, and why you think they are beautiful or special or compelling. If you don’t think you have something special to bring to your art, I’d have to say that you probably shouldn’t be doing this. It’s too hard, and those who are successful are the ones who can’t imagine doing anything else because they have something they need to say.

One experience I’ll never forget occurred when I was dancing in the corps at ABT and the great Russian ballerina Natalia Makarova came to stage a production of La Bayadère, an ornate tale of love and revenge set in royal India. In Act II, the warrior Solor is grief-stricken by the murder of his true love, Nikiya, a temple dancer.

In a sequence known as “Kingdom of the Shades,” Solor has an opium-induced dream during which he encounters twenty-four “shades” who are exact likenesses of Nikiya. The shades, corps members in white tutus, enter one by one, each making precisely the same sequence of slow, sustained movements as the dancer before her, until the stage is filled with row upon row of silent figures moving in complete synchrony. Incredibly beautiful; incredibly difficult.

When Makarova came into the room to stage that sequence, I’d guess that all twenty-four of us young shades were terrified. What she told us then was truly an “aha” moment for me: “Each one of you is a princess unto yourself. I want to see each one of you. You’re special and beautiful. You’re not just a row of Nikiyas.”

“Okay,” I thought. “I’m in a line with twenty-three other dancers and we’re all doing the same thing. How can I make this special and beautiful unto myself?” I felt as if I’d just been given permission to interpret the movements and bring my own voice to the stage. That was a great gift, but it also came with great responsibility—not simply to follow direction but to think creatively about each movement and put my stamp on everything I did, be it through my unique musicality or a particular physical inflection.

Part of what it means to be an artist—whether you’re a dancer or a singer or a musician—is finding a way to be individual even when you’re doing the same thing as everyone else. It’s something every young artist must figure out for him- or herself, both to be competitive at an audition and to bring value to his or her work, whether it is as the lead in a theatrical production, in the chorus of an opera company, part of a musical ensemble, or a member of the corps de ballet, as I was in La Bayadère. Whatever your role, however big or small, you will have the opportunity to work with other amazing artists and create beauty on the stage. And, if you are lucky, you will be part of an established group that provides steady employment and organizational support (as opposed to gigging as a freelance artist your entire life), but first you need to project your own special voice so that you stand out from the crowd and get the job.

So, how will you define success as an artist? What is the unique brand you want to bring to the world? These are questions that all performers must ask themselves, both at the beginning of their careers, and again at various points moving forward, in order to figure out their artistic mission or purpose and define their priorities as well as their personal and professional strengths. In the words of universally acclaimed, award-winning actress Sigourney Weaver, “It takes a lot of communing with oneself to recognize what you have accomplished and get a clear idea of what you want to do.”

Thinking honestly about these tough questions is the first step toward building a fulfilling career and an equally fulfilling life. For some of you that will mean a life of performing. For others it could mean playing any one of a variety of roles within the business of the performing arts.

DEFINING YOUR BRAND

There could be an endless number of attributes that go into determining who you are, but when it comes to branding yourself as an artist, it’s important to really understand what makes you different and what you bring to the field, and then be as clear and concise as possible about how you express that. If you’re wondering how to do it, think in terms of what someone else might say about you if your name came up in a conversation about casting a particular role, or if he were recommending you for a job. To help you figure it out, think of your brand as comprising two distinct sets of attributes—the rational and the emotional.

1. Rational Attributes: These are the specific areas of expertise you bring to the position: What is your unique artistic contribution? What skills do you have? What special professional strengths do you bring to the production to ensure its success? What previous experience do you have that will contribute to your future performance? Directors of companies frequently share notes about performers with one another, and I’ve often heard leaders of performing arts organizations talk about an artist who “can command the stage,” “is technically brilliant,” or is “incredible at supporting roles.” These are the hard-core skills that get you into the game. Without them, you won’t be considered. Think of them as “necessary but not sufficient” for success.

2. Emotional Attributes: These attributes describe the “softer,” more personal side of your brand. What is your personality type; your style of interaction; your ability to work in a team; your level of likability, trustworthiness, and reliability? Emotional attributes are the personality characteristics and life experiences that make you interesting and different. Added to your rational attributes, they can either help or hinder your ability to connect with people. There are artists who are absolutely brilliant onstage whom no one will hire because of their bad attitude, their unreliability, or their refusal to work with a director, preferring to do things “their own way.”

Taken together, your rational and emotional attributes define what you have that is unique in the marketplace, what makes you special and worth hiring, and thus what is your personal brand.

So let’s take a moment to figure out your own rational and emotional attributes.

On a piece of paper, write down these four aspects of what makes each of us unique.

* Core values. These are the aspects of your character that describe who you are deep down and what values you hold dear. Examples might include thoughtfulness, trustworthiness, courage, respect, integrity, being honest, being open, helping others, or being reliable.

* Artistic strengths. These might include extreme musicality; an ability with accents, learning scores, ballets, or scripts quickly; the ability to transform the prosaic into something original; stage presence; adaptability; vision; technical skills; the ability to take criticism; creative problem solving; being collaborative, imaginative, a good communicator.

* Personality. These attributes describe how you interact with the world and are perceived by others. For example: being positive, creative, strategic, focused, confident, friendly, energetic, patient, flexible, passionate, unflappable, having a sense of humor.

* Image. This is the image you project to others based on your personal look or style or language. Such as: sophisticated, elegant, edgy, classic, hip, cultured, chic, sexy, urbane.

Now, write down the words you would use to describe yourself in each of these categories. You may want to enlist a friend or a colleague to help you figure out how others see you—and to keep you honest. Simply tell them you need help with a branding exercise and ask them to describe you candidly and honestly.

Once you have a list, try to figure out how to link these attributes to one another. How your personal qualities fit together will be key to determining who you are and developing your brand.

For instance, are you a visionary artist who can work with anyone? Or are you a master technician who is completely reliable and can be counted on to perform in any situation? If, for example, someone asks you what you do, don’t just say, “I’m a violinist.” Instead you might say, “I’m a classical violinist with a focus on integrating new technology into my work so that it is more accessible to others,” or, “I’m a choreographer, and I am working on ways to create narrative works using a new dance vocabulary.” My own tagline is that I like to see myself as an entrepreneurial leader. Regardless of the specifics, think about how you would quickly and succinctly capture yourself in a personal tagline.

Now that you have a sense of how you see yourself and how others see you, you can craft a personal “message” to help you communicate your brand to potential employers, colleagues, audience members, patrons, and the broader public.

DEFINING YOUR MISSION OR PURPOSE AS AN ARTIST

Artists are mission- or goal-driven. Some even regard their work as a calling. They feel they have something special to add to the world and thus they are willing to work tirelessly and overcome great challenges in order to make their personal artistic contribution. In my philosophy classes at Brown, the professors used to say that when you are justifying an argument, you need to meet the “Oh yeah?” and “So what?” challenges. By this they meant that you need to explain “oh yeah?” or “Why do you think this is right? How are you justifying your claim?” But even if you are able to do that, it isn’t enough. You also need to explain why anyone should care, thus answering the question, “So what?”

Both Andrew Simonet, founder and director of Artists U, and Susan Mohini Kane, a classical soprano and voice teacher, suggest that crafting an “Artist’s Mission Statement” will help emerging performers articulate both for themselves and for others the reason(s) they exist as artists. This statement must be clear and based on personal beliefs and values.

Consider the following questions and jot down your answers, as you may want to return to them again and again.

Why is your work significant or essential to you? What is it that makes you passionate about your work? For me, it was believing that, through dance, I was creating moments of great beauty that spoke of what I thought was true in the world. I thought this would help to change the way people saw the world, and, consequently, help to change the world.

Beyond your own personal interest or benefit, why should your work matter to others? Why do you think people connect to it and care about it? How is it different from others’ and why is that important? Keep in mind that you are in a performing art form, where the audience’s relationship to your work is critical, so this question must be answered compellingly. This will probably be difficult for you to articulate, but it is essential that you figure it out if you are ever going to differentiate yourself ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Dedication
• Epigraph
• Introduction
• Chapter One: What Does Success Look Like to You?
• Chapter Two: The Business of Performing Arts
• Chapter Three: Promoting Brand “You”
• Chapter Four: Who Can Help?
• Chapter Five: Finding Work
• Chapter Six: How to Be Financially Smart from the Start
• Chapter Seven: When Things Go Wrong
• Chapter Eight: How to Make a “Life” (Not Just a Living) as a Performer
• Further Reading
• Acknowledgments
• About Rachel S. Moore
• Bibliography
• Index
• Copyright