Opera America started last night. Opera companies from all over the world send representatives to the convention to talk about issues in all aspects of their field. I've never been to one of the conventions before but this year it happened to be taking place in Miami, so I'm taking full advantage. Thus far it's been interesting to meet people, see old bosses and friends, and listen in on what everyone thinks and feels about the advancement of opera as an American art form.
I've got more thoughts on that...mainly brought up by opening speeches by Osvaldo Golijov (brilliant Argentinian composer) and Dana Gioia (of the sad, struggling NEA), but my thoughts aren't fully formulated. As the weekend continues things will start to gel. After a rambling conversation with my husband this afternoon I'm realizing that I have an awful lot to say.
This post is a lesson on following the path as it presents itself...a more personal reflection on the influences that help us end up where we are/where we needed to be all along.
At one time I actually planned on going into Performing Arts Administration. I've always been interested in the administrative side, but my performing always came first. My favorite class in college was the one that taught us how to market ourselves, send out press releases, rally audience support and fundraiser. When I was the Associate Artistic Director for a small dance company in Chicago, I loved attending the board meetings, the strategic planning and putting together fundraising events. I always figured it would be my fallback.
So much so, in fact, that when my performing career started to struggle a bit, I nearly walked away from it to pursue an administrative career. It was the spring of 2000. I graduated from college two years earlier and had been freelancing with not much luck. I'd had a couple of gigs here and there but was starting to get massively frustrated with the audition process. Three times in a row I'd gotten down to the final three and then been sent on my merry way at the end of the evening. I was really questioning my future as a performer. I started looking at universities with Arts Administration degrees and was studying for my GRE. I'd settled on first choices at Goucher College and American University. I was serious about this.
In class at the Dance Center of Columbia College one day, I noticed a posting for a dance audition for the opera "Akhnaten" at Chicago Opera Theater. It fit in my schedule and, though I had really nearly given up on the prospect of doing a professional gig every again, I thought "Why not?" I had started to look at auditions as free class. How sad.
As I was dressing for the audition that morning, I made myself a pact. I told myself if I didn't get this job, then I would send my graduate applications out the next morning and make a final, clean break from this performing career that had left me so frustrated.
The audition was fun, full of friends, and I was so happy with myself for having an alternative plan that I'm sure I was dancing with more confidence than usual when being judged. We finished our last pass across the floor of heel-first pique turns, clapped for Daniel Pelzig, the choreographer who ran a great class, and I grabbed my stuff and trotted down the stairs, pleased with finally feeling like I had some purpose.
The artistic administrator of Chicago Opera Theater came running after me. "Miss Stickann, wait!" I turned at the bottom of the stairs. I thought I'd forgotten to hand him my head shot.
"Miss Stickann, Mr. Pelzig, the choreographer, would like to speak with you."
I walked carefully back up the stairs. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I remember feeling less exulted at that moment and more scared. I felt like I was in trouble even though I knew that was an absurd reaction. Danny was sitting on the floor changing out of his dance sneakers. I sat down next to him on the edge of the raised dance floor and he proceeded to tell me he was in need of a dance captain and wondered if I would be interested.
It's funny how good news can sometimes seem bad or strange when thrown at you without warning. I started to question myself. I was so prepared to send in my applications that I hadn't even considered getting this job. He was looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I think my mouth was hanging open.
I said yes and it changed my life.
Not only did this man's question ultimately give me a five-year successful performing career that took me to San Diego where I met my husband while performing, and gave me my New York debut, but it also opened up my career in opera where I am currently learning and growing on an hourly basis. I am so priveleged to call Danny a friend now, but he has also been a colleague on some of the most artistically amazing and satisfying projects I've ever worked on. I am incredibly lucky, and I owe him my career.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had gotten all the way down the stairs at that audition, walked out the door, and never heard from Daniel Pelzig or Chicago Opera Theater again. My applications would have gone in the mailbox but after that I have no answer. At this point in my understanding of my true niche in this world of the arts, I'd like to think that I would have found my way to opera and directing anyway, but I really don't know.
In a world where so often the "right path" is muddy, hard to see, and covered in brambles, I thank god for the path that presents itself clearly, without question.
We've been in the theater for preliminary tech rehearsals this past Monday and Tuesday. Last night my little shadow showed up with her mother to watch. Lillian had given her our on stage schedule. She sat in the house entranced. I caught up with her on a break and asked how she was enjoying the rehearsal and she was ecstatic with her words and images. I felt like I was aiding in the creation of an artist by being there for her to talk to.
