Unsettling times on the world stage can be both grist for the mill and a further obstacle to working in the arts, as funding continues to fall lower on political agendas. It is these times when the arts are of the most value to audiences, as we all struggle to make sense of a changing world. However it can be difficult to shift from despondency to inspiration – or at the very least business as usual.
‘It’s a test this year,’ admits Yumi Umiumare, who is co-producing ButohOUT, a festival taking place from February to April at Abbotsford Convent and Dancehouse. ‘I would love to say it’s sustainable but it’s actually quite hard work.’
She and co-producer Takashi Takiguchi decided to continue with the festival despite not securing any funding as they had in previous years. In her newsletter announcing the ButohOUT Primal Colour Festival 2020, Umiumare wrote: ‘Takashi and I commit to go ahead to embrace the positive side of humanity through BUTOH at this rather sombre times of natural and political catastrophes happening on the earth right now.’
Umiumare has worked for nearly 30 years as an independent dancer and choreographer. ‘For artists like us now it’s getting much harder to get funding – that’s a reality – we are seeing that big shift happening.’ The question Umiumare poses for herself if she continues is, ‘How we do it? What’s the way of sustaining ourselves financially and mentally and spiritually?’
Tai Snaith has worked in the arts for close to 20 years, first solely as a practicing artist, then in various different guises to support herself and her practice, including writing, publishing, children’s workshops, producing, and advocacy. ‘The fact that artists can still make anything happen is incredible,’ Snaith says.
‘Unlike lots of other professions, we often work without the support of a team, unless we work collaboratively. We are often self-directed, self-motivated, self-funded and self-regulating. It’s exhausting. I think that in order to maintain a career in the arts over many years you do need a kind of stamina that is quite exhausting and lonely at times.’
Finding true grit
Grit is a concept that gained currency a few years ago in popular psychology, and self-help blogs abound on how to achieve success with grit and resilience. Grit is a combination of passion and sustained persistence toward a long-term goal. Resilience applies to the way in which we meet challenges and obstacles.
When things get difficult, Umiumare is buoyed by her fundamental belief in the human spirit and the potential for transformation. ‘Creating or showing work or sharing that time of transformation – it’s hard work, but when that happens it pays off.’
Similarly, Snaith is driven by the promise of making a difference, ‘I remind myself that I am doing what I love, creating inspiration and positive change and I am working to support others doing the same.’
Research into grit underlines the power of self-belief and application. Grit has been associated with success in work and study, better memory, emotional regulation, and generally feeling positive and accomplished. Just like grit, resilience is often characterised as a personal attribute, applied when the going gets tough. But is it really realistic to imagine that we can always pull ourselves up by our bootstraps?
‘Creating or showing work or sharing that time of transformation – it’s hard work, but when that happens it pays off.’
– Yumi Umiumare
Umiumare expresses a quandary faced by many artists – that continuing to do the work you are passionate about requires persevering with a very different kind of work, ‘Every now and then I hit the very hard bottom and it’s challenging to keep going. I don’t mind anything of the work for the art making but I can’t write any more grant applications. I can’t do any more convincing.’
Rather than a personal attribute, resilience may be something we experience, with the cooperation of others around us. People are vulnerable to differing degrees, depending on personality factors, but also on the support they have around them and their collective experience of either setbacks or successes. Resilience has been conceived of as a process rather than an attribute – a process of moving out of harm’s way as much as possible, doing the work to improve belief in your ability, seeking help and support from friends and family, and finding opportunities to improve your situation.
Changing it up
Both Umiumare and Snaith have capitalised on skills that allow them to diversify their work, but also create and reinforce support networks within the arts community.
Umiumare periodically works as a translator and cultural liaison for Japanese Australian dance and theatre productions. ‘It’s very hard work for the brain,’ Umiumare says, ‘but I quite enjoy it because I know I can understand the languages they use and also the kind of empathy you can create for the performer because I’m a performer too. If they need a certain thing I can understand not only translating the language, but I have the cultural background to support them.’
Of her podcast A World of One’s Own, Snaith explained: ‘That project really grew out of my need to reach out. I really wanted to see how other women, who I admired, had dealt with things like self-doubt, motherhood, gender bias, but also how they articulated and wove process to concept in their individual practices – things I struggle with in my own practice regularly.’
Snaith looks at the podcast as a chance to explore an instinct she has for making connections. ‘I am also a natural talker and love hearing people’s stories, it really charges me up. My voice is definitely my most effortless skill at my disposal and I thought that rather than keeping these conversations to myself, maybe other people might want to hear them too.’
Resilience is also how a community prepares and responds to challenges. So how resilient is the arts community in the face of erasure from government portfolios and the drying up of funding sources? Community resilience is understood to emerge from shared knowledge and resources, collective empowerment, connectedness and positive outlook. It requires trust, openness and cooperation. It requires giving without the expectation of return – the best example of which may be shaping the next generation.
Despite the lack of funding, Umiumare feels supported by the partnership with Abbotsford Convent. ‘It’s lots of in-kind support and publicity, plus the psychological support of having an organisation that can back us – one that’s artistically strong too, and very much community driven.’
She has also been heartened by the openness of the community built over previous ButohOUT festivals. ‘I think it’s that openness I see that’s important in the art making because even professionally we should be open but we tend to get stuck ticking all our boxes in order to get funding. I like working with children too, like with Peek-A-Butoh (an event for children aged three to 12). Their pure joy is like “Wow oh my god!” It’s so refreshing.’
Likewise, Snaith says of creating her children’s books: ‘Children are such an unbiased and excitable audience. They are optimistic, imaginative and open-minded to any possibility, no matter how wild or weird it is. I also like the fact that with children’s books I can reach people at the very start of their life and plant ideas that can grow with them and hopefully inspire them to create positive change in the future.’
Sustainability perhaps lies in collaborating with another generation and the hope and wonder they can bring to the work.
