Almost to Maybe: Reflections on My Artistic Career

Ever been on the brink of a life-changing opportunity, feeling equal measures of excitement and uncertainty?

In 2015, after completing my 5th or 6th self-funded directing project, I came tantalizingly close to securing a Prestigious Directing Award. This coveted prize not only promised recognition but also paid placements at a thriving company—a chance at a sustainable career and valuable networking connections.

Path To My Future

There was momentum and hope. I didn’t necessarily envision that this company could teach me directing excellence (urg that bloody word). My practice, mentors, and participation in the community until this point had revealed to me that I had the talent, dedication, and just enough resilience to keep stumbling along. I did however see that this award could be the path to my future and I believed that fiercely.

During the interview process, I was assured that even if I didn't win, they wanted me to come and observe a project the following year. They valued me, my skill, and my time. This, coupled with a whispered 'You were very, very close to getting it' from the Artistic Director during the awards ceremony, felt at the time like the perfect consolation prize. I could say to myself, "Not yet. It's just not my turn yet."

An Exercise in Disappointment

I observed rehearsals the following year, networked as best as I could with one of the winners from that year, and sought follow-up conversations with the company. My subsequent applications for the same Prestigious Directing Award in 2016, 2017, and 2018 yielded no results. I was never shortlisted again, never invited back for an interview. Seeking feedback on my applications was an exercise in disappointment, met with the recurring excuse of 'lack of resources'—an excuse I had even typed out myself as an assessor on occasion. When pressed, I was told, 'All we can say is keep making work, broaden your practice, and invite us to any performance you have.'

‘Keep Makeing Work’

Hearing that there was nothing more I could do to be a compelling applicant, except continue to on as I was, was shattering. Reading back over the email exchange now, I am impressed by my warmth in expressing my thanks, my clarity in expressing my disappointment, and my graciousness in my defeat. I am also furious at the lack of direction (ha ha) that the feedback provided.

It was and still is disheartening to wonder how, with continued experience and a track record of excellence (urg, that word again), I could remain unqualified for an interview? I couldn't articulate it then as a young artist desperate to be liked and to be seen as undemanding, but the explanation that limited resources prevent consideration for everyone is, frankly, unacceptable. It was a grim assessment of what I am sure is a near-universal experience for Australian creatives. It was also an experience that tamped down my professional directing pursuits, as 'keep making work' at that time meant keep spending my own money, my collaborators' unpaid labor, and all of our collective health to maybe, maybe, maybe, get another shot at being told ‘you were very very close.’ I stopped dreaming so big for awhile even though I didn’t stop making.

A Glimmer…

My years of self-funded dedication to my work has kept me artistically fulfilled, connected to a community, and with a sense of purpose, but have yielded little professional progress. However, amidst ongoing challenges, the COVID-19 pandemic offered a glimmer of hope as I received investments and support to nurture my writing practice. One culmination being a public season of The Hero Leaves One Tooth at KXT in July this year. In the wake of this project and a few other in development projects, I have found numerous people and organizations open their door to me informally. Usually by inviting me in to have a conversation with them.  It’s not an official opportunity ad certainly not one that outlines a clear pathway for me, but the connection still warms me.

I Might Never Be In

Now I have nearly 15 years of proven experience and a wealth of compelling ideas. My journey has been a rollercoaster, marked by moments of success contrasted by an industry that still often feels more closed than open. While I'm grateful for the opportunities I've received, the memory of missed chances and closed doors still lingers.

I am not looking to build a life raft out of this vocation now or anytime soon. I am refusing, perhaps unwisely, to let this be where the story ends. This last quarter of the year is a bittersweet one for so many of us makers in the performing arts. Seasons and programs are announced, and if you're not in, you very much feel out. Joy at friends' and colleagues' successes can be tinged with panic and envy. “I might never be in again” or “I might never be in at all.”

Maybe Maybe Maybe

I am sure I am not alone in watching seasons get announced, money granted, and panic that none of it is mine. I am sure many of us feel, deep in our bones, that it’s not enough-there isn’t enough for any of us. I find myself thinking ‘All these small glimmers I have experienced, are they just going to be echoes of my experience with The Prestigious Directing Award, once a symbol of hope, now a stark reminder of unfulfilled promises?”

As spring blazing through us with gusting winds and 35-degree heat, I notice that at least I now believe that this time it might be different. In the handful of years since, I've learned how to think strategically, how to cling to my wins, and how to let them buttress my hard-won resilience so that my ambition is not tamped down by rejection. My journey as a maker and artist continues, and I let my thoughts continue to fill with “maybe maybe maybe” as I turn to the next challenge.

I Will Not Give You Sugared Words

To any of you facing closed doors and missed chances, I wish I could open every single one for you. It is a terrible reality of our vocations; there is not enough for us to dream of a thriving future, yet we feel compelled to dream.

I will not give you sugared words encouraging you to ‘just keep making work’, that is a reckoning you must face on your own. But if you are still here as the year winds down and you feel on the out with only perhaps a small little whispered ‘maybe maybe maybe’ echoing in your head, please know that I see you and I know it's not enough.

I'd love for you to share your own stories of resilience or disappointment. Either in the comments or in private message or email. Your disappointments and your successes are welcome in my house.