Hometown: St. Johnsbury, VT
Current city: Las Vegas, NV
Age: 39
When you started to dance: 8 (ballet)
When you first took a modern dance class: 18 (in college)
College and degree: University of Kentucky, Bachelor of Arts, Political Science and Sociology double major
Graduate School and degree: University of Utah, MFA in Modern Dance (age 21-25)
Website: www.livelovedancelv.com (blog)
Linked In: www.linkedin.com/pub/laura-mulchay/23/402/25a
How you pay the bills: For now, teaching and choreographing
All of the dance hats you wear: performer, teacher, writer, choreographer, occasional consultant or assistant, MOM
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Write about your first 5 years post-college.
Actually, when I graduated from undergrad, I was planning to go to law school. I’d started dancing at Kentucky as part of its Dance Ensemble, but never had any plans to take it past that. But that summer, I attended the Ririe-Woodbury Summer Dance Festival in Salt Lake City and had some sort of a revelation. I flew back to my parents’ house in Virginia, got into my Honda Civic, and drove out to Salt Lake in time to pursue dance in the fall. My parents must have thought I was nuts. The U allowed me to do a year of non-matriculated courses, and eventually in 1998 I graduated with an MFA.
While in grad school, my thesis was on Dance and Community Partnerships, and for a variety of reasons, I felt that my place was going to be in educational programming, work with non-profits, etc. and not actually on stage. But then I was in a piece by Stephen Koester, and that changed everything. His work lit a fire in me and I wanted to go for it.
I was referred to Santa Barbara Dance Theater, auditioned, and got into the company. I packed up my Civic again and moved to Santa Barbara, where I performed for a year with the SBDT. This was an amazing transitional opportunity because the company is in-residence at the UCSB dance dept—we’d take class in the morning with the undergrads, and then rehearse in the afternoon.
But after that one season, I really felt like I wanted more. That spring, Pilobolus, Momix and Diavolo were all auditioning. I immediately fell in love with Diavolo, and moved to LA to join the company. At the time, the company didn’t pay dancers, except for performances, so I cocktail waitressed, taught Pilates, taught creative movement, worked on tv, performed at Disneyland, and pretty much did whatever it took to be in the company.
Can you write about your work with both Diavolo and Cirque. Was Diavolo full-time? How did you land both jobs (audition, workshop, class)?
For Diavolo, I just showed up to the audition, not really knowing anyone or what I was getting into. Jacques Heim (director) had everyone just move across the floor as the first assignment. He said from that minute he knew I was a good match—and I did, too!
At first, like I said, no one got paid, and we rehearsed Tues/Thurs nights and all day Sat/Sun in this un-air-conditioned commercial space in Northridge. Slowly the company expanded, we changed our rehearsal times to reflect the growing needs of building (and rebuilding) all of that repertory, meanwhile we all had night gigs. About 3 years later, we moved the company to its present huge warehouse space in the Arts District in downtown LA, and even though we were being paid a weekly "salary," I still kept my other jobs in order to pay the bills.
About that time, I also took on the role as Education Outreach Director, which involved coordinating all of our on-tour outreach, helping to create the children’s show, and coordinating our performance in schools via the Music Center on Tour. By the time I left, the job was pretty much 24/7 and I loved it—we all did. Being on tour was a precious and amazing time, even with all of the gritty stuff that sometimes happens between people who work creatively with each other for a number of years! Those memories—of being in Anchorage in January when it’s dark all of the time, doing the run at the Joyce Theater, performing just after 9/11 and what a crazy time that was to be in an airport, or the time we got all of these strangers involved in impromptu choreography the night we were all snowed in at O’Hare…in the good and bad times, every moment seemed like it was so highly charged, on and off stage, and it bonded us for life.
Getting into Cirque du Soleil became an extension of Diavolo, but not right away. Cirque asked Jacques to come on as the choreographer for the show that was to become KA in about 2002. At that time, I had no desire to work for Cirque, nor leave Diavolo, but my body was starting to really break down. In 2003 I had a shoulder injury that required surgery and had a very extended recovery period. In 2004, I actually retired from Diavolo as both a performer and as the Education Director, and started looking for full time teaching jobs in the LA area. I figured that 31 was old enough, and it was time to start looking at other more “reliable” and safer (!) ways to make a living.
But then, on a whim, I saw a colleague of mine perform in "O," and that changed everything. I was really blown away. I liked how every creative aspect was so illuminated, and the athleticism was at once graceful and powerful. At that point, my shoulder was healed, and I just thought, it’s now or never. I made a demo reel, and sent it Jacques, who gave it the Director of Creation for KA. The Director liked what he saw, and invited me to come out to Las Vegas for a private audition. Most of my audition involved doing pull ups and push ups and other pretty basic elements, which I thought at the time was weird! After a very painfully silent week, during which the only feedback I got was that I needed to lose 10-15 lbs, I finally got a call from casting. They offered me a contract! I went back to Diavolo to “get in shape,” during which time I got to take the company to its first international gig in Santiago, Chile, and moved to Las Vegas in September 2004 — yes, about 10 lbs thinner. After my 90-day probationary period, during which I performed in both the “soft” premier and got married (same weekend!!), I signed a 2-year contract with full pay. I was ecstatic.
Here is a link to Diavolo’s demo reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5H15jf9MQHI&feature=relmfu and website, www.diavolo.org
Here is a link to the reel I made in 2004: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oZRMzmHWe0&feature=youtu.be
Here is the KA website. In the commercial, that’s me playing the drum www.ka.com
And here is a link to a tv episode I did as part of KA: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cuyUKEKRLc&noredirect=1
In terms of Cirque, how many years did you
perform? How many shows, on average, per year?
I performed in KA from 2004-2010, about 400 shows per year. For some reason, before I joined Cirque I had this image that life was going to be easy! HA! Life was very GOOD, yes, but easy, no. Creation, itself, was grueling, and we worked 12-14 hour days and 6 days a week for months. Even once the show opened, there were so many changes and evolutions (this is not unusual—a Cirque show quite often starts to gain its legs and evolve actually AFTER it opens). Then, even once the show stabilized at least 2 years later, it was a very full time job, between doing 10 shows a week, rehearsing the acts, training new artists, cross training into different tracks, working out, doing physical therapy, doing media events, not to mention costume fittings, make up, and all kinds of other things that I never even knew existed before joining this company. In addition, I was a Captain of one of the acts, taught classes between shows, and performed as both house troupe and a backup of the nanny character—so I knew almost all of the acts, and inside of each act, 2-4 different tracks. This kept things interesting and dynamic for me, but it was for sure a full-time job!
When you’re in a company of 10 dancers, your 90 minute show is often like a marathon. Every Diavolo show involved every single dancer at 100% exertion for the full 90 minutes. This wasn’t true for KA—over 90 minutes, you tend to enter in and out of stage, you have breaks. But, instead of doing 20-30 shows per year, you’re doing 400, and there’s everything else that goes with that. The nice thing is that it’s a sustainable career. Once you get into your groove, so long as you stay happy and healthy, it’s a system that you can continue working in so long as you want to, and so long as the artistic team feels you still fit the profile.
The one thing Cirque does do, that I find commendable, is that they really invest in the artists. They compensate them fairly well - enough to have a relatively "normal" life that can involve home ownership and a family, if you choose. They also provide massage therapy, Pilates training, weight training, and full time physical therapists to be there before, after and during any injury or strain. The other side to that, however, is that the company has very high expectations of its artists in terms of time commitment, physical commitment, artistic integrity, reliability and morale. I think that as dancers, we are pretty used to the high expectations, and don’t have any problem with that!
It is, however, a business first and foremost, and sometimes, things happen: characters get written out of shows without notice, or the house troupe gets reduced and someone has to go. Inside of those moments, it’s very hard not to take those things personally. Before I joined Cirque, someone gave me that advice, and it helped me keep things in perspective. I also think that joining this company after having been in a small company was pretty valuable. I really appreciated what the wardrobe department does, because we used to have to take care of all of our own costumes. We used to do our own loading and out. Our technical director at Diavolo was at the time also our stage manager and tour manager. This perspective allows you to acknowledge that ALL pieces of this big moving entity are important, not just the ones on stage. I can’t say that all of the performers I worked with had that perspective!
Have you continued to perform after having
kids?
Yes and no. I have two young boys, Austin, 4, and Dylan, 22 months. After Austin, yes, I returned to KA. I was off for 6 months during the pregnancy, during which I worked out right up until the week I gave birth. The show required me to be back to work 12 weeks post-partum, which is standard for Cirque. The 12 week deadline was a tough one, but I made it! I continued to work for KA for the next 18 months.
I haven’t returned to performing yet after Dylan was born. The pregnancy was difficult and I was not allowed to exercise, and then after he was born, he was very sick for almost the entire first year. I also was working in the office at this time, and between my full time day job and caring for a sick child, I had no time to get in shape, not to mention research performance opportunities. Now that my daily life has shifted, perhaps these opportunities will present themselves.
For now I am very much enjoying teaching and choreographing and writing. Between that and being a mom, I feel that my life is poetic again, and for that I am extremely thankful, and don’t mind being off-stage. At least, for now.
For dancers/performers thinking about having a family: it’s a tough decision and not something that can be taken lightly! I did it later in life, having both of my babies after 35, but it was still hard. Your body changes so much when you are pregnant, and then after the baby is here, your life will never be the same—in amazing and profound ways, but it will be hard to get everything to fit back into that 24-hour day like it used to. Eventually your priorities will change and some things will have to go. The nice thing is that as a dancer/artist, you are used to finding a way, and that skill really will come into play when juggling parenthood.
It’s also very important to have a strong community around you: one that not only supports you as an artist (and all that goes into that!), but also you as an artist having a child. I can’t speak for how other cities are, but Las Vegas has no shortage whatsoever of performers with kids. Perhaps the plethora of paying jobs, the availability of 24-hour day care, or Cirque’s great maternity leave policy doesn’t hurt, but it’s quite incredible. Every year, for example, at the Golden Rainbow Ribbon of Life fundraiser performance (one of many every year where strip performers get together to showcase their skills for a cause), someone does a piece that features all the performer-mommies. The first one I saw years ago was a stroller extravaganza in Jubilee-fashion, another had mommies and daddies doing choreography with their babies in Baby Bjorn’s, another was this cute piece where all the kids drove around in their wagons/tricycles/motorized cars and did little solos or vignettes with their parents. Again, maybe this is normal someplace else besides Las Vegas, but I was still very surprised to see it! And now as a parent, it’s pretty awesome. There are performers and choreographers, with kids, everywhere. Again, though, IT’S NOT EASY! We’re tired a lot, we don’t go out after work like we used to. But the fact that the community is here helps out.
Can you write about “care of the body,” especially with being a part of very physically demanding and challenging companies?
Yes, although in some ways I have learned the hard way!
First, Sally Fitt’s foundations in Kinesiology have helped me immensely. I can’t even imagine surviving the whole gamut of work I’ve done without being able to self-evaluate, find imbalance, and do something about it before an injury comes into play. Also important was the ability to self-regulate, which she (along with my other awesome faculty at the U) instilled: to self-diagnose times when you are putting on the gas a little too hard, unnecessarily, and find ways to move more efficiently, with less impact and less muscular binding. I never could have made it through 6 years of Diavolo without this.
Second, mental focus is key. I think that people who succeed in this industry naturally have a higher-than-normal ability to not only remember things, but to make split decisions, multi-task, and also stay so minutely focused on what they and others are doing on stage. At the same time, when that mental focus gets fuzzy, that is almost always when injuries happen. Perhaps you hesitate and a collision happens, perhaps your timing is off and you come down wrong, maybe you have a mental blip on stage that sets someone else off. If you do 1-2 shows a week, with some days off in between, this format allows you to rest your brain so that in every show you are 100%. But when you’re doing 10 shows a week, week after week? It’s hard to keep up that focus, and you have to pace yourself in the same way that you pace your body. When guests come backstage, they’ll often see two guys playing ping pong or a woman reading a brainless magazine—in costume, during the show, in between cues. I’ve heard people comment, oh, it must be nice to work so “hard!” But it’s not about that. You have to give your brain a rest, and that’s how we do it. It may not be conscious in the moment that that’s what we’re doing or why, but it has the desired effect.
Third, yoga. It has helped me in so many ways, from taking it to teaching it. Learning to sit though—and listen to—your mental objections when things get hard, of trying to find out what you can let go of and still commit to the posture, of finding balance. It has been a perfect companion to my performance life. I don’t think it’s the be-all end-all practice to solve everything, but it works for me. Plus, it’s a practice you can have for a lifetime.
Last but not least, it’s important to give injuries the attention they deserve and let them heal. For me this meant: 1) admitting I was injured to begin with, 2) admitting that I didn’t have all the answers and 3) finding a professional to help. I did a lot of self-treatment with herbs, meditation, ice buckets, chiropractic, acupuncture and tape. While all of these do work on most things, sooner or later, if it persists, you have to take the next step. As a poor dancer, that’s really hard to do, and you have to be resourceful. For example, I had an ankle injury in Diavolo that lingered for months. I got into see a physical therapist, but had to be there at 6:00AM b/c for that hour, he let people use the facility for free. It never would have healed otherwise, and I never could have afforded it any other way.
Are you teaching now? Where? What drew you into teaching?
Right now I am teaching and choreographing at The Meadows School, for grades K-5. The choreography portion is part of their academic curriculum, and I also teach two after-school classes that put on two performances per school year. It’s very part time, but I love it. It has been a wonderful way to get back into teaching. It feels great to be back in an academic environment, and because these kids are so young, their discoveries are immediately rewarding.
For some reason, at this point of my life, teaching feels easier than it used to. I’m sure that that has something to do with the fact that I have much more to draw from than I did 8 years ago. And I guess, being a parent could have something to do with it. And, I’m also no longer trying to “make it” as a performer, at the same time that I’m teaching. Right now I’m teaching just to be teaching. That simplicity allows me to be very present with it, and to enjoy it for what it is and what it does.
One beautiful thing about teaching is that feeling of getting into the zone. When I’m teaching or choreographing, I plan everything out, and yet things come to me in the moment, poetic moments leap out of my mouth, life lessons are to be found around every corner. I love—and have missed—that opportunity to really be awake and alive inside of that present moment.
Can you write about the modern dance scene in Nevada? Or the dance scene in general?
I recently assisted with an audition for a new show that’s in development, and I was really impressed with the talent that now exists here in Las Vegas, and so was the choreographer. The kids are taking classes from retired performers at a number of outstanding studios, and the Las Vegas Academy is a performing arts high school with many great success stories.
Modern dance does not have the presence that it does elsewhere, and it tends to get confused into the category of Contemporary—which there is a lot of. Still, Nevada Ballet Theater, UNLV, College of Southern Nevada, and the Smith Center do work hard to keep modern dance alive and well in this community.
For me, my paid work has always been hyper-physical and acrobatic, and I’ve been able to satisfy my modern dance bug by participating in performances in smaller venues around town. There is a huge community of extremely talented and experienced performers here, many of whom have full time performing jobs. No matter what show you are in, sooner or later we all have started looking for and creating opportunities to do our own work. I have choreographed and danced for a number of these. They tend to take place in the afternoons on Saturdays and Sundays, or after shows, starting at midnight. In any case, the performances are always amazing. Add into that mix the fact that the performers and choreographers do them for free, and often donate all tickets sales to a non-profit organization, and it becomes doubly sweet. It’s extremely hard to accomplish all that you might want to creatively in these showcases, with trying to juggle everyone’s show schedules. But then again, it teaches you to be very efficient, and it also creates a forum where people don’t really try to chew up each other’s work like they do elsewhere. There’s always a sense of gratitude at these performances, even in instances of trial and failure of a concept. I enjoy that aspect of it.
What are your career goals for the next 5-10 years?
I’m very interested in expanding and exploring creative projects, but this time with my feet on the ground. I very much would enjoy creating works, and hopefully in the next year, that would involve an entire production for the stage.
I’d like to see my mission of building community amongst groups of people continue to manifest. Perhaps as an artistic director, or university faculty position, would be a wonderful way to exercise this, and these are both things that I am working for.
In the short term, I have written three children’s books that talk about courage, working together, and believing in your dreams; and each one comes with a classroom companion for a movement activity. I’d love to finally see those get published.
And, as cheesy as this may sound, a large part of whatever it is I do must include being a consistent and loving presence in my boys’ lives, and providing for them a solid and enriching foundation.
Final advice:
1) Let modern be your launch pad. If you learn modern, you can do anything because modern teaches you a language of all the basic elements. Modern training is also unparalleled in making good choreographers. The difference is amazing.
2) Practice auditioning. Auditioning can be a really damaging process, and I am honestly no good at it, myself. The casting process can seem very cold. Don’t just go to the one audition you have your heart set on. Go to a few to get used to it. Besides, you never know what will happen when you put yourself out there in an environment in which you aren’t attached to the outcome….
3) Go upside down. Choreographers now seem to all want dancers who can do basic acro. I strongly recommend adding some basic gymnastics into your training. Aerial skills are an added plus.
4) Make taking class and being fit a lifetime commitment. Don’t ever stop taking class, and perhaps more importantly, don’t let yourself get too out of shape. A friend of mine says there’s no such thing as “I used to be a dancer.” You either are, or you aren’t. Much better to realize that, and live by it, and stay in shape to begin with rather than letting yourself get out of shape and then have to work your way back! Besides, we dancers can’t stand sitting still. In the office I felt like a plant with no light. I had to move.
5) Think about your future. If you are in school, finish school. When I started grad school, I hadn’t gone to a performing arts high school. I’d been a gymnast and a diver and only started learning about dance in college. At that point, I could have moved to NY or LA, I could have given it a shot without going to grad school first. I gave up 3 of my young performing years to finish that degree, and it was a hard 3 years, and it was an expensive undertaking!! My parents talked me into it, and I can’t tell you how happy I am to have it now. It’s an amazing feeling to retire as a performer and already have an MFA. I have no idea how I’d even begin to start a grad program at this point in my life. And also, what I learned in grad school really did inform my professional work. None of it was wasted.
6) Resist the urge to question your decision to choose this life path. In other words, Don’t Give UP! For me, time and time again in periods of my career where nothing was working, and I was broken and bruised both emotionally and physically, my mind would immediately go towards getting myself out of this career. I would start questioning why I was putting myself through all of this and go looking for other jobs. Then, after a bit of time, things would resolve themselves and life would go on, without me taking any of those other jobs. I could have saved myself a lot of mental angst by just believing in my career path, by waiting, and by realizing that things happen in their own time. It’s a lesson in patience. The bad comes with the good, and I have always envied people who calmly relaxed through the bad and didn’t add into the mess any self-identity issues!
7) Be a nice person to work with. That diva legend is so outdated. No one wants to work with people who are high-maintenance, no matter how talented. I have time and time again seen really talented performers not get work because someone on the artistic team will remember them from a past project, and how hard they were to work with. Be generous. Give compliments and be genuine about it. Show up on time (and at least, when you’re starting out, be willing to stay late). Talk to people and actually listen: don’t be that person who always has to talk about him/herself. When you go to see someone’s show, don’t feel that you have to tear it apart in order to be the smartest person at the coffee shop. By being this way, you’ll have a long career, you’ll surround yourself with great people, and good things will continue to happen.
8) Enjoy the Journey! These days, good and bad, will not last forever. Cherish them. Keep a journal. Describe your days so that you will remember them, and so will your kids, if you have them. I so vividly remember a conversation I had with my mom one day, about my 2nd year into my time with Diavolo. I used to call home and incessantly vent about all the ridiculous and annoying things that happened in this world of arts and entertainment. I think that at first, it was novel to hear about all of the behind-the-scenes bs. Finally, one day, she’d heard enough. She said, “Look, Laura, you chose this life! If you don’t like it, choose something else. If you like it, then stop focusing on what’s not working. Be a part of something in this industry that IS working right.” And that was it. I will never forget it. Wise words, Mom.
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