Could you do the Freelance Dance? When creative autonomy offers an authentic, fulfilling career, your dream of joining one particular company may not be the only way forward by Katie Summers My childhood Saturdays were spent in a stuffy dance studio with Trader Joe’s salads and soft-serve ice-cream from the Costco across the street. My weeks were filled with ballet classes, rehearsals, and homework. Every spare second I had was spent in front of the computer, watching endless videos of my most beloved companies. I would watch online versions of company class or profiles entitled “The Life of a Ballerina.” I was fascinated with the company— you know, the one my instructors constantly referenced, the one that seemed to be the paramount picture of success. I remember movie nights with friends watching Center Stage, that 90s film full of fabulous cliches of cigarette-smoking, pointe-shoe-hammering ballerinas, and being certain that my future self would be a distressed girl begging artistic directors to take a chance on me. Transitioning to college, my technical and artistic focus shifted as I began to learn about the sparse number of contemporary/ modern companies across the United States. I looked closely at a world previously unknown to me and began to wonder what would possibly suit me. Then, after my freshman year, I attended American Dance Festival’s Six Week School— an enthralling place that radically altered how I perceive life as a professional dance artist. I remember being in a Q&A session with Stuart Singer and Jesse Zaritt, two contemporary/modern freelance dancers who were flourishing in their careers. They spoke about the progression of their careers, from company member to a life of artistic autonomy. Stuart Singer, upon leaving SUNY Purchase his sophomore year, joined the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company. He spent four years there until deciding a major shift was needed. In a magazine interview, he said, “I wanted a range of experiences…. I think I perceived on some level that this long-term commitment to one choreographer wasn’t how I wanted to build my career” (Burke). Zaritt had also joined a high profile company, dancing with Shen Wei Dance Arts for about five years before leaving to pursue a freelance career full-time (Shuster). Both men talked about how keen they were on their immensely fulfilling careers because they now possessed the autonomy to make distinct artistic decisions which consistently led them to a place of artistic satisfaction. Zaritt spoke of how much he adored working with his peers, as opposed to an older generation, because he was able to be a part of something new, something precious, unsustained, and revolutionary. Never before had I heard of artists pursuing dance in such a way. This single session left me with a perception of freedom that changed my idea about the successful- professional- dancer paradigm and left me with knowledge of a greater artistic liberty. No longer did I hold a view that kept me confined to a particular career path. It’s as if dams were bursting open as I came to realize how many rivers could flow from one career decision. My path formed into something uniquely mine, something precious and life-giving. Something endless and feasible. Something unfinished yet solid, unbreakable. After this moment in time, I became aware of the wide pool of dancers and choreographers who know little about freelance dance art. Most dancers I know see a freelancer as an artist who hasn't “made it” yet—a dancer who is proceeding from job to job, scraping by, doing her best to get a gig. It must be noted that, in a few cases, this is a truism. However, as I’ve