WAA Day 2: I Miss My Cat

After dinner* on day 1, Isabel and I headed back to our hotel room to gather intel (aka Google presenters and review their programming) in order to figure out how to talk about NCP and our upcoming projects. During this planning process, my deep-set insecurities as a musician/artist/leader of a fashion-oriented ensemble rose to the surface and I said, “I hate this,” to which Isabel replied, “This is fun!” I'm glad at least one of us thought so. Although I had recovered from my blunders during Speed Leads earlier in the day, my confidence was still slightly shot. (However, it did give me a whole new appreciation for those who support NCP.) A couple of thoughts crossed my mind:

•    We should trash these booklets I spent weeks creating…they’re absolutely useless…useless! 
•    Maybe NCP can just perform in New York forever
•    I should have brought my cat
•    We need to get this down STAT or I’m going to fuck up during the interview at the Juried Showcase

This notebook rocks. Thanks to Steve Caputo for this gem

Which brings me to the Juried Showcase. Each Launchpad artist was going to be interviewed for a brief three minutes at the event, which was a great opportunity to introduce our ensemble to presenters and managers, but it being so short meant that clarity was key. Making NCP sound interesting has never been a problem; describing it in a clear, concise manner has been a challenge. It always ends up being a mouthful, doesn't flow, and I’m pretty sure I’ve revised our bio about fifty times. As I mentioned in my previous post, we decided to describe ourselves as “a contemporary music ensemble that incorporates visual elements.” 

We came ready with our notebooks, brochures, business cards, and our new, quick NCP description. And it worked! At our presenter meetings the next day, no confusing looks. Who knew that eight simple words would make me 100x less anxious? And after the initial one-sentence intro, we would delve into fashion and the multidisciplinary nature of our major projects. Now that we had gotten through these smoothly, I was ready for my three minutes in the limelight.

JURIED SHOWCASE

Gotta stay on my toes! Speaking at the Juried Showcase at SFU Goldcorp's Wong Experimental Theatre. Photo: Isabel Kim

I won’t go into depth about my interview, because it was pretty uneventful and it went well. Isabel and I didn’t stay for the entire showcase, but we did have a chance to see a world music band, two theater groups, and two classical music ensembles perform. What I found interesting was that both of the classical ensembles had verbal sales pitches during their performance: one group gave a speech about outreach and having no boundaries (each member would take turns saying different parts of the pitch) and the other mentioned how they play in alternative venues and effectively draw audiences. Both also engaged in crossover projects in addition to their regular programming: one group did Radiohead arrangements (surprise!) and the other collaborated with a DJ to remix music they had commissioned. The speeches, combined with the crossover offerings, gave me the impression that there may be a sense of insecurity when it comes to programming classical music in the presenting world, and these ensembles are offering possible solutions. I didn’t find any of it particularly inspiring and in fact had a strong aversion to one of the performances. (For the record, I respect both of these ensembles as fellow musicians; their style just isn’t my cup of tea.) I thought, is this what we have to do to get booked? 

This is a thought that often crosses my mind, as an artist whose responsibility it is to manage the growth of an ensemble and wants their ensemble to go places! It’s not the way an artist should think. Strategy is smart, but I’d rather we perform in fewer cities doing what we do best rather than add formulaic programming that works on presenters. Also, from what I’ve heard, touring isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  A little more on that in my next post.

As usual, I got over the feelings of self-doubt pretty quickly. Thankfully, Isabel agreed that hell no, NCP will not be doing any Radiohead arrangements anytime soon. Unless Radiohead themselves wanted to take us on tour with them/record with them. TOTALLY different story.

Old Faithful Shop in Gastown

We left to explore some of Gastown, where the showcase had taken place, so we headed out wearing our dorky badges (thanks to the shop worker at Old Faithful Shop for reminding us with an enthusiastic, “Hey, Isabel!!!”) and went to dinner at a restaurant that reminded us of home. All I wanted to achieve for that day was to get through the meetings and my three-minute interview, which I did, and to top it off I tried poutine for the first time and had cake for dessert. It was a good day.

* Sushi in Vancouver is AMAZING. We dined at a moderately priced Japanese restaurant and the fish that was served was exceptionally fresh and high quality; we could cut through it with our chopsticks. 

WAA Day 1: Deer in Headlights

As I had mentioned in my first post, I had some idea of what to expect after seeing how fashion trade shows worked. I was not expecting a crowd at The Nouveau Classical Project booth, since I figured most of the attendees had scheduled meetings beforehand, but I also didn't expect to hear crickets. Over at the Launchpad corner, it was just me and Isabel most of the time, our fellow Launchpadders MIA. I figured people would at least browse the booths, but there was not much of that in our empty corner. For heaven's sake, we were CHOSEN to be here! Isn't anyone interested in meeting us?! Apparently not...even after sending out dozens of e-mails mentioning that we were part of WAA's Launchpad, I only received about five responses. Launchpad did not equal street cred. I also heard that people were scheduling meetings even farther out in advance, so I'm sure that these presenters were also extremely busy and needed to prioritize. Luckily, the conference was three days long and there would be time and in-person opportunities to make connections and schedule more meetings.

So innocent and optimistic. Me and Isabel heading down to the Opening Reception

SPEED LEADS

One of the activities I signed up for was Speed Leads. It's like speed dating, but with six presenters and one artist or manager at a table, and no one is horny and only one of us gives a shit about making a good impression. Each artist or manager gets two minutes to pitch a project to six presenters at each of the four tables without the help of any printed collateral or iPads. I came into this with confidence, as I'm a naturally social person (hell, I've even made projects happen from chance meetings at parties), and the project I was pitching was so obviously a winner: a multimedia piece with a Rome Prize-winning composer who was recently awarded a major commission for the project. Although it would have helped, I don't think practicing my pitch would have saved me, as we later learned that the project was too complex/very "New York", but I would have at least felt like I did a decent job. Anyway, the nerves immediately kicked in: I began by introducing NCP, saw the perplexed looks on everyone's faces, and then thought, shit I'm running out of time already, and so I jumped into "55-minute multimedia project with Rome Prize-winning composer Nina C. Young...<bumbling, bumbling>...integrates music, fashion worn on musicians, choreography, kinetic sound sculpture..." and as soon as the word "Anthropocene" spilled out of my mouth, I felt like everything was in slow motion and I had an out of body experience where I was like, "Nooooooooo!" Confused looks everywhere (later learned a lot of people do not know what the Rome Prize is, nor do they care), needed to explain the term "Anthropocene", then TIME! For the first two tables I basically bombed but by the third and fourth, I better understood how to pitch. While I couldn't avoid saying "Anthropocene", I figured out which order to explain the many elements of the project, and actually remembered to distribute my business cards. (By the way--props to Stephen Seifert from University of Denver for knowing what the Anthropocene is!) The reaction from the final two tables was significantly more positive than the first two. Being a former volleyball player, I know how to shake off a bad play and regrouped immediately. I started saying "concert" to provide greater clarity. In my mind, a "concert" sounds ordinary; I've noticed artists, including myself, using terms like "hybrid works" or "multidisciplinary" and at this conference, I found that these descriptors just confuse presenters. 

Granted, one usually gets more than two minutes to pitch a project, and while discussing a potential performance doesn't typically take place in this weird Shark Tank-esque setting, I still think this exercise was helpful. I'm used to having to explain projects on paper to grant makers, and as with this presenter situation, it requires immediate clarity since you often need a one-sentence description at the start. However, in this two-minute space without any visual aids, you have paint a picture immediately with words. 

YOU DO YOU...BUT A YOU THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SOUND TOO WEIRD

The name of the game for this first day was How to be Crystal Clear Without Scaring Away Presenters. And the way you do that is by NOT sounding too unique. Or by reframing unique to mean interesting but accessible/familiar in the context of an arts conference. After attempting to describe NCP in our usual way to booth visitors, we realized that the fashion element was something that people would get fixated on and required way more explanation than was necessary. So we decided that the best thing to say is that we're a contemporary music ensemble that incorporates visual elements. To us, that sounds like something everybody is doing, but here, it was a good thing because it's something the presenters were familiar with. This was one of the most eye-opening, and quite frankly, disconcerting things for me: the level of accessibility we had to provide with our introduction. But I get it: presenters need to fill seats and they need to feel like they're making a sound investment.

By the end of the day I felt a little discouraged and less like an artist. It's not sexy to have to think about how to downplay a major part of your identity. My team and I had created booklets with visuals, a cool vellum cover, and I felt like I had fucked up by featuring projects that I thought were compelling, but now looked too complex and not simple enough. Plus I have a project I'm working on where I'm going to explore new territory, directing a hybrid project and digging into my Filipino roots, and my head was clouded with the idea that there is clearly no space in this world for that kind of project. (I tend to have intense reactions to negative experiences, but I get over them pretty quickly). As an artist in New York, one is encouraged to take risks. In fact, it seems like risk-taking is commonplace: nudity is acceptable and there is abundance of multidisciplinary work. Not everywhere is New York, as Isabel and I learned. A lot of the feedback was that some of our projects work in New York and not everywhere else. Well, I grew up in a town called "El Sobrante" that means "the leftovers" in Spanish, and I'm pretty sure there are some people in the middle of nowhere that would love something new, and even strange, to come to their town. 

While it's important to stick to your guns, I think there's a way to finesse your way into presenters that might be initially hesitant; for example, the way we stopped emphasizing fashion in our elevator pitch. It doesn't change what we do but new contacts are less likely to shut down. And like audiences and grant makers, there's no way in hell to please everyone, and it is possible to find those who share your vision. There were way more than the 24 presenters that were in that Speed Lead session at WAA, including people who were receptive to what we do. Things looked up after Day 1. 

My First WAA: Making it Rain in Vancouver

So desperate to get out of NYC in August. It's the worst. Photo: Arden Armbruster

I was in Vancouver this week for the Western Arts Alliance (WAA) conference. (It did actually rain!) My music ensemble, The Nouveau Classical Project (NCP), was selected as one of the three artists for WAA's Launchpad,  a program for emerging artists and early career agents or managers to make it possible for artists to become visible to, and to connect with, the managers and presenters who will book them. (Enormous thanks to Ichun Yeh of Sozo Artists for the nomination!)

I had never attended an arts conference because they are costly (for instance, "early bird" registration for APAP is $775) and I was never quite sure about what my ensemble would get out of it. From what I gathered, one rents a booth along with a sea of other organizations peddling their wares, and there's also showcasing, pay-to-play opportunities to gain exposure--which seems to mean "why you should perform for free"--to presenters and managers. (However, in the the case of, well, showcasing, it seems to actually mean something. More on that in a later post). I used to fake-DJ a fashion trade show each season, and this was the closest experience I could relate to the conference: the artists and managers are the fashion designers and showrooms, and the presenters are the buyers. In the past I have attempted to reach out to presenters on my own through cold e-mailing with virtually no response, so I was excited when we were selected for Launchpad. I knew this would give us access, and yes, exposure, to both presenters and managers, as well as consulting and mentorship that would guide us in our pursuit of being a self-produced, indie group to being an indie group that gets its concerts presented and produced/co-produced. We were told to keep our expectations low and that we were there just to meet people and start building relationships. Beyond meeting new people and starting productive conversations with managers and presenters, attending WAA was an eye-opening education into the world of the arts outside of both of hometown, New York City, and the new music community. 

Booklets & business cards! WE'RE SO READY (Or so we thought...)

Before heading to WAA, I spent weeks preparing our printed materials and cold e-mailing presenters and managers. Most of them didn't respond, but I was able to nail down a few meetings. I created both a video and a photo album that would loop on an iPad, the photo album including press quotes superimposed on the photos. I also bought a Vancouver guidebook, even though I knew deep down that we'd have zero time to explore the city. My partner in crime (and croissants...anything pastry-related) Isabel Kim, NCP clarinetist, was coming with me. I knew she'd be perfect because she's been in the ensemble the longest aside from myself and had experience on the presenting end as a staff member of Symphony Space.

I'll blog about each day at WAA in separate posts. Wish I could have blogged immediately, but we were exhausted and asleep by around 10pm each night. I hope the posts are helpful to fellow artists who are trying to take their careers to the next level! DIY and indie are great, and an inherent part of being an artist, but at some point, we need more substantial support...at least I know I do at this moment in my career. I'm hoping taking part in WAA was the beginning of that leap.