Defining a Post-9/11 Career in the Arts

Prior to 9/11, many artists looked upon community engagement as essential to arts advocacy, but peripheral to their career ambitions. Although Juilliard as an academic community made progressive strides in the 1990s by developing programs that offered students opportunities in community service (the School received the National Medal of Arts for this work in 1999), community service and career development remained casual acquaintances. A few artists made it a personal mission to "reach out" by traveling to remote communities. But few would have considered making a career of it.

And then, 9/11. I remember that day because, like most administrators at Juilliard, I was in the office attending to business. It was a Tuesday, and this was the day that first-time students would meet in a class called Colloquium. I was one of the Colloquium facilitators at that time and had my own group of students to watch over for their first months at the School. Unfortunately, we would not meet on that day. But the following week, we would meet and begin trying to make sense of the world. In that class, three remarkable people would take events to heart and begin pursuing a new type of career: William Harvey (M.M. '06, violin), whose projects have been profiled in these pages; Cynthia Welik (B.F.A. '05, dance), who co-founded ArtReach with Mauricio Salgado (Group 34, drama), while both were students; and Mauricio himself, who is now a program director with ASTEP (Artists Striving to End Poverty), founded in 2005 by Juilliard faculty member Mary-Mitchell Campbell.

Recently, I had lunch with Mauricio to discuss his life and his work involving both acting and community engagement. He had just returned from an emotional tour of Peru with a student dance group led by Amelia Uzategui Bonilla. At one point, he described disembarking from the plane at Kennedy Airport (having just returned from a poverty-stricken neighborhood in southern Peru) and racing to his casting agency. His private thoughts while sitting in the waiting room of that agency (looking at people in business suits and ties who were racing about with the weight of importance in the air) were worth the price of lunch.

How can community engagement and humanitarianism remain a priority while pursuing a career in the arts?

But this dichotomy of life pursuits is exacting a toll on him. I could see that conflicting value systems were leaving tiny battle scars. How will this new post-9/11 generation, with its empowered sense of humanitarianism, negotiate the complexities of a stage or film career? How can young artists effectively compete in a world that already demands 120 percent of their time, ambition, discipline, and energy to succeed?

Many assume that the two paths are compatible, even synonymous. But reality is different. Pursuing auditions, agents, managers, directors, and all of the other people needed to make something happen in a performer's career takes one down a path that leaves little of the time and energy needed to raise money, coordinate with community organizations, lobby for congressional support, care for the troupe or ensemble, and pursue possible partnerships for one's engagement activities.

Some artists make a pledge to first succeed in their craft, and then take the next logical step of using their success to connect with international efforts. Since there is very little money being pledged to international cultural missions, fame can help raise funds to meet these needs. This has been the traditional strategy for the past century—but this new post-9/11 generation has found the global condition more exigent. What, then, of great talents that prioritize communities ahead of their personal success?

I asked Mauricio this very question. He responded, "I was very clear with my agency as to what I wanted out of my life. I was game to audition and see what doors opened up, but I was being pointed in this other direction and that was always going to come first. Which it has ... and of course, it has taken me away from some job opportunities."

Defying the traditional expectations of peers, industry, and family in order to parlay one's Juilliard education into community work is a path less traveled. But, as Mauricio pointed out, "I still perform, even though it might not be in a professional house. I perform in the classroom, and with my kids, and I tell you that they are way more of a real and receptive audience than most people experience."

Don't community-engagement artists miss the technical support offered in a completely outfitted theater? His answer surprised me. "We first have to define for ourselves what is our motivation to perform in the first place. If I can define for myself why I am an artist and what it is that drives me, then I can pursue that in any venue. Of course I miss a controlled space, but my experiences in controlled spaces haven't always been satisfying. Other variables get in the way and cloud my original intention to communicate a story. So often the baggage that comes with a controlled space (personal agendas and ego and the fear of failure) actually drives me away from my need to perform.

Clearly, artist-humanitarians like Mauricio Salgado are now thinking more critically about their purpose. Perhaps they are forging a new type of career path—one that is affecting change on a global stage. Time will tell. But if these pioneers and their colleagues are any indication of a new, post-9/11 trend, the world itself may soon be regarding artists in a whole new light.

Derek Mithaug, director of career development, is a Juilliard faculty member and alumnus.