Rebel in the arts
By Grace Okereke
Success. What does it mean to you?
The dictionary defines it as “the accomplishment of an aim or purpose”. To me, that summary sounds quite finite. You set yourself a goal, reach it and voilà—you are a success. But reaching a goal is often just the first step toward what success really is.
I often find that maintaining the level of achievement you set out to reach—or even surpassing it—is much harder than hitting the original target. When it comes to one’s career, I liken it to whether you are going to be a one-hit pop-music wonder (think Vanilla Ice) or a long-term multi-album, award-winning artist like Mariah Carey. Both artists started their careers in 1990, but only one is still touring to sold-out crowds, releasing music and has a fruitful career.
Recently, I was at a lunch with someone from an overseas dance company which, for all intents and purposes, should be considered successful. They have multi-year core funding from their regional and national funders. They can leverage sponsorship from high-net-worth commercial entities. They reside in their own building, meaning they can manage their rehearsal and creation schedule as they choose. They
can also diversify their income stream through renting
studio spaces.
For an independent arts manager such as myself, it seems like a good situation. However, when we discussed their recent production, I was surprised to learn that they were struggling to get it presented in their own region. Despite their stability and success, they had to self-fund a showing of their work in their home country. I watched the show when they brought it to the UK, and it was a strong piece—so, in my opinion, quality doesn’t seem to be a factor in their struggles.
In fact, though they couldn’t secure presentations in their own region, they did so elsewhere in the UK and across Europe. But if it were me, I know that rather than focusing on the success of booking international tour dates, I would reflect on why I couldn’t gain any interest in my own region. And in fact, I have done this before—yet I wouldn’t consider myself as successful as the company.
Nonetheless, examples like this always hit close to home. I often feel as if I am failing while knowing that, externally, it may seem like I am succeeding. I think part of the problem is how we frame achievement—success, as I am learning, is about looking at the bigger picture, while the feeling of failure comes from immediate losses along the journey.
In my opinion, success should be viewed as taking part in a marathon—ideally, you exit the race when you are ready, not when everyone else has surpassed you or when you are forced out. Keeping up with the times and remaining at the top of your field—or even just being a consistent player—can feel relentless. What keeps us going is personal to each individual, but it helps if you feel you are progressing over time, receiving acknowledgement from your peers, and being adequately rewarded, whether financially or otherwise.
The performing arts industry seems to serve you with more blows than wins, and it does so indiscriminately. So, the question I ask myself is: when you have more losses than wins, how do you stay motivated? Right now, the answer eludes me, but I find connecting and sharing experiences with trusted peers useful. It helps me realise how many of us go through the same struggles and feel similarly about where we are in our careers.
A note of caution: I am not trying to find camaraderie in negativity, but having the space to vent and laugh about things can feel cathartic. However, one of the biggest lessons I am learning is to enjoy success in the present moment. Failure is inevitable—it happens in all aspects of life. I make sure I learn from it and avoid repeating the same mistakes. But more importantly, I remind myself to celebrate my achievements, knowing that I will continue to succeed because my motivation is stronger than any doubt others may place upon me.
