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What are we going to do?

This is an open love letter to all my friends in the performing arts. That sounds salacious. Everything love-related does. But it’s also an expression of a deep and abiding love.

Musicians. Slam poets. Actors. Dancers. Teachers. Venue owners. Promoters. Arrangers. The more threads I pull, the more I realise how many are going through an unravelling. A kind of vertigo, because it’s hard to tell right now which way is up.

I struggle to express love. I always offer advice, instead of shutting up and listening, and I can’t change now.

Infrastructure

This is a tough, tough time. But here’s the hot, hard truth: performing artists are every bit as important as roads, as railways, as undersea network cables at connecting people. The invisible work of the performing arts is every bit as critical as the visible concrete and steel of industrial infrastructure.

Performing artists gently weave a web around people from all walks. Across generations. Across sexualities. Across the geographical world, and across the intellectual world of political divides. You weave a web when nobody is watching, and then pull it tight, drawing us all together.

That’s why the performing arts are suffering right now: because to slow the transmission of a socially transmitted virus, we have to unpick exactly those cross cutting connections. In the physical world, at least.

Opportunities

I know that a lot of you are in a world of pain right now. I want to offer some hope from the other side: as an ambassador from a huge family of people who care deeply about what you do. The audience. I want to let you know that in the coming months, as life changes unpredictably for all of us, that we need what you do more than ever. In searching for paths through this challenging landscape, I want to reassure you of your value, and that it’s something that lots of us are still willing to pay for.

Many of us are acting on the beautiful advice to simply keep paying for our dance classes or our performance tickets or our music lessons, even if we can’t be there.

Don’t overlook the value you offer to your existing communities. Don’t be afraid to ask for support. Don’t be afraid to portray, with clarity, what you do for your audience. Don’t be afraid to point out that you can keep doing it, if the audience keeps backing you.

Ask people to donate whatever they’ve already paid for tickets, at their discretion. This request resonates. It feels good to be able to do something. A certain number of people, at least, will respond to the ask.

Many more will have new times of day available to take up lessons of all kinds online. If you love to teach, I think there will be willing learners. It will be different. It will be challenging. But I think there’s something viable out there.

And if you love holding an audience in the palm of your hand, laying out an emotional labyrinth for a collective of people to walk together - I think there will be lots of people yearning for emotional guidance online as well. Tell your story. Talk about your craft. People still want to be part of your community. The stage may look different. The audience may feel more distant. But we’re still here. And again, don’t be shy about asking for financial support in exchange.

A whole lot of economic activity has simply evaporated. We’re all going into hibernation together. But there’s also a whole set of human needs that are not changing one bit, except that they’re going to be met through slightly different media for a little while.

Seriously

I don’t want to trivialise what’s going on. All I can do is offer the warm embrace of an audience member. I’m not trying to pretend this is easier than it really is.

Some of you come off stage buzzing every time you perform. Some of you, I know, are already exhausted by the grind. Many of you experience both, bouncing between the exhiliration of performance and the purgatory of getting an event on stage. You’re all in my thoughts. I’m inspired by you. I’m worried about you. I’m grateful for your dedication to exploring your craft, and the important example that it sets for all the rest of society to keep seeking the truth, even when it’s hard.