C A N N O P Y
Art is True North
Oriah Wiersma
Oriah Wiersma
What does support for independent Canadian contemporary dance really look like?
Words by Rebecca Lashmar
ISSUE 12 | IN MOTION
Whether at the municipal, provincial, or national level, funding for the arts is usually one of the first categories to receive cuts in periods of austerity. Artists have long been praised for their ingenuity in creation—owing mostly to a lack of resources—and it’s become the norm that they will always find a way to make do with what little is provided. But as rental prices even outside city centres and rural areas skyrocket, this ingenuity is placed in a chokehold, and creatives increasingly question how the Canadian government can better support the country’s arts sector.
As Canadian artists struggle with everything from long-term career investments to getting groceries for the week, the accessibility of resources has never been more important. These resources come in many forms beyond direct funding; they also include opportunities such as residencies and the availability of rehearsal spaces. How are artists able to sustain themselves and their practices when rehearsal spaces are increasingly pinched by rent hikes? What does this mean for the future of the arts sector, and opportunities for multidisciplinary Canadian artists, when funding for the arts is the first thing to go when the going gets hard?
These are some of the questions that multidisciplinary artists like Oriah Wiersma have to contend with. As a dancer and bodyworker specializing in craniosacral therapy and Thai massage, Wiersma’s artistry is a perpetual exploration of the relationship between art and mind-and-body wellness. With a love for both small towns and city skylines, Wiersma’s radiant curiosity for movement realizes the communality and isolation that coexist in both urban and rural Canadiana. Reflecting on her residency with Winnipeg’s Young Lungs Dance Exchange, Wiersma pinpoints the cruciality of accessible rehearsal spaces, residency opportunities, and the resilient power of the Canadian dance community─a community that, like many others, is navigating the post-pandemic creative terrain and striving to claim both digital and brick-and-mortar spaces.
YOUNG LUNGS
CAN | How do programs like the Young Lungs Dance Exchange Research Series Residency broaden the scope and accessibility of contemporary dance in Canada?
OW ─ As an organization, Young Lungs is developing and fostering something profound in the Winnipeg community, which I had the privilege to engage with while I was there. Something that distinguishes this residency is its interdisciplinary approach. Writers and visual artists are brought in and paid to creatively respond to the work of the in-residence artists, allowing for exchange across disciplines and multiple in-depth perspectives on the research. Also, the act of going elsewhere and having the opportunity to connect, share, and converse with artists from different geographical areas of Canada is particularly rewarding and informative.
I think contemporary dance can be insular, and interdisciplinary exchange opens up possibilities of the form and increases accessibility. Throughout my career I’ve seen new audiences interact with contemporary dance in spaces it is not typically seen, such as a bar show, and this is pretty exciting.
AN OPEN LETTER TO OLIVIA CHOW
CAN | How do you feel the funding opportunities for independent contemporary dancers fail to meet their dynamic needs on a consistent basis?
OW ─ While I have no doubt that every performing arts sector experiences their own set of challenges in relation to the artistic funding that is available, in my own experience as an independent dance artist, the problem that I continually bump up against is the lack of physical space available to practice and research my craft. These spaces are few and far between and generally are not very affordable.
The funding structures in my opinion are too focused on project-specific grants; it would be supportive to artists to have grants available to cover the rental of studio space. At this point in my career, I’m particularly interested in investigating the artistic process. My practice is definitely one that does … not … rush … the … process. I work from a place of body-out, as opposed to mind-down, and with this method of working more time and space is required.
I have lived in Toronto for the past decade and, in my time here, have witnessed dance spaces continually close rather than open. I already struggle to be able to afford space and now it is difficult to even find spaces to rent because they don't exist, or the ones that do are booked so far in advance because the market is saturated. This is upsetting because many buildings stand empty that would be perfectly suited for dance. I don’t require a lot of space, just an empty room and an okay floor. There’s so much potential in this city to expand the art sector and foster it, but instead I see artists being pushed out as the rent market continues to inflate.
I would love to see the city fund a designated building for artistic research, where artists are able to access studio space at a subsidized rate. A building that is a multi-disciplinary artistic hub where artists can connect and research without the worry of how to afford space to do the thing we’re meant to do.
I believe this is a larger problem than the funding bodies and city alone, and I wonder how this can shift to a place of community, on a grass roots level, rather than requiring granting systems and municipal support. There are spaces that currently exist that could be shared.
PAN-CANADIAN
CAN | It seems you’ve built a dance community that spans the country. How has this pan-Canadian community of dancers supported you through recent periods of isolation? And in what ways do you wish this community was more accessible?
OW ─ The importance of community was heightened for me during isolation, and that is something that has stayed with me. During such a precarious time, I was supported by fellow artists, navigating the uncertainty from a place of mutual understanding. The community kept me inspired. We discussed and dreamed, planting seeds for projects to emerge when possible, and they did. At first this meant a shift to working online─music videos, creative films, and online festivals. This experience opened up how I view the possibilities for projects now. It has also made the country feel smaller in some sense, as I got used to working online. It’s something I do more regularly now: I’m currently continuing working with my Winnipeg-based mentor.
There’s also something to be said about what is gained from working in isolation. Out of necessity at the time, of not being able to work with others, I dove into my solo practice. This experience created a foundation and gave me time to learn about what I value and how I work. With these discoveries, I am now able to enter into collaborations from a more rooted place. I see great value in both understanding one’s own practice and working in collaboration with others. This July I’m heading to the Winnipeg Fringe Festival to perform a new solo on a triple bill with my dear friends Alex Elliott from Winnipeg and Kayla Jeanson from Montreal. It’s amazing to be performing live again.