-The Other Paper
Moving to New York to study dance in 1973, I retailed at Macy’s and was an answering service operator, janitor, artist model, and office assistant to support myself. Short-term contracts and unemployment benefits subsidized my performing career. In between tours, I finished my college degree in psychology and was a nanny and pre-school teacher.
After a vision quest in the Himalayans, I managed two dance companies and a festival. Philanthropy called; suddenly I was funnier and smarter, until I left the foundation - accolades and joyful embraces ceased overnight. Moving to Minneapolis, the Culture Wars of the ‘90s had me battling right wing media, religious leaders, and politicians who cared little about the truth so long as they could raise money off controversy..
The Bay Area beckoned and I directed a contemporary art center with another bout in philanthropy. In 2010, I relocated to Vermont to run The Flynn and served two terms in the House of Representatives. As I moved through the world, I was blessed to have my husband willing to relocate.
All the while I continued writing personal essays and making films. My ongoing artistic practices sustained me throughout. My artist-self sensed how to improve on what worked, and change course when things were unsuccessful. Filmmaking is inherently collaborative which is an asset in solving institutional problems. I often relied more on ingenuity than experience jumping in with a ‘beginner’s mind’ to business challenges.
My art background was also beneficial personally. Twenty-eight years ago, I was paralyzed from complications from spinal surgery. While kinesthetic connections in my legs were lost, I learned how to walk again in front of mirrors, just like I did in dance class.
Now retired from day jobs, what a joy it is to wake up every morning and imagine, “What can I make today?” I finished my twentieth short film and have work on view in galleries in Stowe, Brattleboro, and Philadelphia. Videos of mine will be broadcast on Vermont Public and Maine Public. While tremendously validating, there is little financial reward. Even with grants, commissions, royalties, publishing and broadcast fees, breaking even remains aspirational.
The Vermont Arts Council recently awarded creation grants of up to five thousand dollars to twenty-two artists which cover a portion of their estimated expenses. Winners are only eligible to apply again after a five-year waiting period. So, few can realistically pursue an artistic career full-time locally. National opportunities are as slim. Artmaking in America remains avocational.
In these fractious times, further capitalizing the arts seems prudent as culture demonstrably builds community and creativity sparks innovation – necessary components for a path forward. Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) curriculum is enhanced when you add the ‘a’ for art to provide STEAM problem solving in our schools. Making work is stimulating and filled with wonder; I wish this for others.
Artists are often among the first responders in political protests with potent iconography. Civil Rights, Queer Liberation, Reproductive Freedom, and Black Lives Matter protests are pertinent examples. These kinds of voices are essential to democracy. In our post-election Trumpian apocalypse, clarion dissenters are even more necessary, along with soothsayers offering hope.
Artifacts from every epoch are indicators of the vibrancy of that society. It is the disruptors that are often remembered. In art (as in politics), change happens from the fringes. What will our legacies be? For an emboldened and transformed future, invest more deeply in artists. They begin, and begin again.
Me dancing in 1973 with Winnipeg’s Contemporary Dancers