The Field's National Network: National Touring Exchange (pt. 2)

This spring The Field initiated its pilot Network Touring Exchange (NTE) program by sending three of our national Fieldwork facilitators on tour. Read a little about their experiences below.


Artist Chrissy Nelson traveled from Boulder, CO to Salt Lake City, UT, where, in addition to participating in a Fieldwork session, she also connected with Field facilitators Amy Caron and Maggie Willis, local artists, and dance faculty at the University of Utah.

L to R: Amy Caron, Chrissie Nelson, Kerri Hopkins

She learned how Fieldwork could fit into a larger artistic community, for example, how to run Fieldwork as a program under the umbrella of a larger artistic organization, and she was exposed to some of the smaller details of how to run Fieldwork in a simple, grass roots fashion.

Salt Lake City hosting Chrissie Nelson

Chrissy was also reminded by Amy Caron to use Fieldwork as a way to “practice” art generation, to sustain her interest and her creation, rather than feel pressure to show a new work each time.  

“Being present with the artists of another site helped me to consider new organizational AND artistic practices while also validating the work we are already doing in Boulder."

Artist Ilana Silverstein toured with her feminist punk rock dance band, Tia Nina, from Washington, DC to New York City. They participated in The Field’s 30th anniversary Fielday performance at Dixon Place, took a dance class, and explored NYC while planning their next artistic steps.

The cast of Tia Nina
 about to perform

“Taking myself out of my comfort zone in my home community stirred up so much. On a personal level, the NTE reignited my love for the grassroots community building that The Field excels at. I felt so energized by the diversity and warmth of the other artists involved in the Fielday.”

Other Tia Nina Members: Leah Curran Moon and Lisi Stoessel

Artist Amy Caron travelled from Salt Lake City, UT to Milwaukee, WI. During her time in Milwaukee, Amy taught at the University of Wisconsin-Milkwaukee, participated in a Fieldwork session, toured the city, reinvigorated her creative practice and connected closely with Milkwaukee site director, Joelle Worm.

Amy Caron

“I think this NTE opportunity in Milwaukee was successful in re-energizing my artistic practice.  As parent of a toddler, my focus on my creative practiced had diminished significantly in recent years and I was looking for a suitable opportunity to reintroduce myself to my practice and a stepping stone where I could begin actively building a new paradigm for creating work.  I think a great deal of impact from this tour experience came from my host also being an artist/mother – we were able to relate to the challenges we both face and I felt like she was truly a peer artist with similar life goals."

Joelle Worm and Amy Caron

The Field wishes to thank these brave adventurers for participating in the pilot year of of the NTE and for reminding us to reinvigorate our creative practices by: stepping outside our comfort zones; connecting with our peers (even when they are far away) and that Fieldwork is a great place to practice art generation.

If you are interested in learning more about these Fieldwork facilitators read part 1 of the National Touring Exchange blog here. If you are interested in learning more about the Field Network or starting a Network site in your city click here.
National Touring Exchange is funded by the

Eating the Big Apple: Self Producing Work In NYC, By Emilyn Kowaleski

This piece is late, unforgivably overdue. What excuse can I give? My computer dropped onto the subway tracks? A piece of scenery dropped on my head? I was consumed in tunnel vision, tackling a recent production of my work? Or most honestly, I am a young artist, mastered in over-commitment, but admittedly, not yet mastered in time management. “There is never enough time!” I cry, shaking my fists melodramatically to the ceiling. I was underwater trying to solve the myriad of artistic challenges in front of me and the financial and logistical ones that accompanied them. However, the unforgivable irony of the matter is that The Field is a buoy that I've found and clung to for support in those arenas after I dropped myself into what felt like the ocean-like task of making and self-producing my own work in New York City.

I graduated from liberal arts school in New York, a few years ago, from a program I loved that taught me many things about making theater and that whole-heartedly encouraged me to go out and start creating work. But what I discovered when I graduated was that; I didn’t really know how to do that on a practical level. Outside of college, rehearsal space didn’t exist for sign up on the third floor in front of the production offices.  I didn’t get to attend a class anymore where people were forced to sit and look critically at my work. I didn’t know proper grant writing language, or how to get a residency, or really how to convince anyone that I, a bright ideaed, starry eyed, post-graduate deserved time, money and resources to create that work, especially when I am one of thousands. I had no track record in the big bad apple, so I just started biting in wherever I could.

            Two years past graduation, in hungry searching of finding the existing remnants of my cushy college life, and building patterned practices of producing work, I found The Field. There, behold: cheap rehearsal space to be connected with, fundraising workshops, and people to meet with every week who would watch and respond to my work. I started with the later. I signed up for Fieldwork, where I could again, play, try, fail and build in front of an audience who would tell me what they were seeing. I had just begun the first stage of development on a piece called Root of the Rosebush that is based on a series of interviews I had conducted with people about their history with relationships from first crush to present day. I didn’t know what that piece would be, or how to construct it really. I just wanted a place to experiment and a chance to know how my words and images were affecting others; I found that in Fieldwork.

 Six months later, after I had built that piece into a first draft and was looking to develop it further, both financially and artistically, I knocked again at the doors of The Field. I signed up for Jumpstart and another session of Fieldwork, back to back.

             For Jumpstart, I was delighted to turn up at American Table, met by the smiling but serious face of Fran Krimser. “Ok,” she said handing us a packet of information on budgets, networking and fundraising that set off palpitations in my idealistic artist heart that was childishly screaming “But why?! I just want to make things!” My adult brain knows, of course, that this is part of that work.  Thankfully, she made it easy. “I’m not going to spend three hours of your time talking at you generally without applying this to your project specifically.” She breezed us through the packets, took us through some exercises and let us practice how to talk about our work.  Then, she sent us on our way with the homework of creating a budget, a project description, and development and potential sponsor lists. A week later, I met with her individually to discuss how best to proceed with my project. She told me how I could make the timeline more manageable, where I could slash the budget and bit, by bit where I could raise the money I need. She articulated the marketable strengths of the work and advised me on an application to present a workshop production at Dixon Place, which, in thanks to her, I ended up receiving.  My heart palpitations have not gone away, still staring at the gigantic apple in front of me, but they have slowed.  It was as if someone had sat down and helped me cut that apple into manageable pieces that I could actually start to chew.

            Fieldwork, on the artistic flipside, operates in much the same way.  Every week, artists meet and present roughly ten minutes of work for feedback. By showing chunks of a larger piece that I was building, I was able to test flavors, and focus on fine-tuning particular moments as I wove them into a whole. Jumpstart was a process of learning how to market my work. It was all about finding the most captivating language with which to articulate what I was doing.  Fieldwork was a process of discovering what about my work itself was intriguing to an audience. Fieldwork is magical.  It a safe space for creative trials, with caring eyes to greet it with observations that fuel the work. It is easy for me to view Fieldwork as a delicious treasure, and Jumpstart as a necessary chore. However, what doing the two programs in tandem taught me, was that this all of it actually feeds same important skill set that is necessary to develop as an artist—Learning how to articulate descriptions of my work and make it in a way that engages people.