I was recently talking to a conservatory trained pianist who has taken a position teaching at a liberal arts college this last semester. He was complaining about the politics and bureaucracy involved with working in a university system. At one point the conversation turned to him complaining that he didn’t understand why his students had to study math, history, foreign language, etc, asking what use was that to musician.
Someone else at the table turned the topic in another direction before I had the opportunity to point out that he was a pretty clear illustration that even conservatory trained musicians probably need to acquire diverse skillsets in order to advance or supplement their careers.
There was recently a piece in Elle Magazine about Alexandra Ansanelli who was a principal dancer with the NYC Ballet and Royal Ballet, but decided to retire at age 28. Now she works as the director of operations and communications for her father’s medical practice.
In the course of the article there were the usual anecdotes about the pressure of being a dancer and issues with body image that dancers experience.
The article mentioned how poorly prepared for retirement many dancers are both mentally and economically.
Dancers are notoriously bad at planning for their second acts. They underestimate the age at which they’ll retire (the average age of retirement is 34), overestimate the amount of money they’ll earn, and misjudge the forces that will end their careers. More than one-third of the dancers in a 2004 survey were driven to retirement by an injury; only 5 percent left because they actually wanted a new career. When dancers enter the workforce in their thirties, many are woefully unprepared. Only 3 percent of current dancers say that teaching dance is their preferred post-retirement line of work, but it’s the most common fate: 53 percent end up teaching dance in some capacity.
“We know of no other occupation that requires such extensive training, that is held in such esteem as a contribution to culture, and that pays so little,” the authors of the 2004 survey write. Even during peak earning years: in the U.S., an average dancer’s annual total income is just $35,000—about half of which comes from non-dance activities. Even stars might not earn much more, or find themselves better equipped for life on the outside.
What I had never really considered was that the cloistered conservatory type environment which continued into the years of her professional practice delayed her social development as well. (my emphasis)
Though she spends many of her days in an office, she says she’s not an office person. Learning to communicate verbally has been a challenge. “I didn’t realize how introverted I was. I had been so used to emoting silently and physically.” Nonetheless, she is seemingly ahead of many of her peers. She is aware of the limitations that her career imposed, and actively working to overcome them.
When I ask her how her personal life has changed, she answers, “It exists now.” But it’s hard to catch up on everything her peers went through as teenagers and young adults. “I feel I’m learning all the time, what to do, what not to do.” She worries about what new acquaintances will think of her past. “It’s freaky to a lot of people,” the way she left her career. “Did she have some kind of mental breakdown?” she imagines they wonder.
Obviously, her experience and personality is not indicative of everyone’s. It is just that the longer I continue my career in the arts and the more I think and learn about the training process, the more I wonder if long term well-being is being sacrificed for short term definitions of achievement and excellence.
There are many factors that feed into this situation. Training programs are responding to external demands for quality. However, we also know that supply exceeds demand in terms of quantity.
There is already a lot of conversation about low pay and graduating more people than can find jobs, but a lot of those issues are related to the fact that students are being prepared for traditional jobs rather than provided with the capacity to re-cast their skills as appropriate for emerging jobs.
Yes, I know I am flirting very near the argument that an artist’s value is only worth what they are paid for their product, but positioning your skillset for wide applications is different than doing a better job marketing your product to a narrow set of applications.