We recently connected with Adriana Baer and have shared our conversation below.

Adriana, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.

I’m a public speaking coach now, but I’ve also spent 20 years as a professional theater director. I knew I wanted to walk that path from about age 14, so I went to college and studied theater, arts administration, and dramatic literature. After that, I became the Associate Artistic Director of a theater in San Francisco (The Cutting Ball Theater) and then got my MFA in directing from Columbia University before getting hired as the Artistic Director of a company in Portland OR (Profile Theatre). Along the way, I assisted a lot of very skilled directors who had been making work for longer than I’d been alive.

I developed my craft through both the observing and the doing. When I was assisting other people, I found that I learned just as much what I didn’t want to emulate and take forward into my work as what I did. It helped me become a more discerning artist because I had to really ask myself why I thought something was working or not working – and because I had an insider’s view on the whole thing, I was able to know for sure why the issue was happening. Sometimes knowing what you don’t want is the most valuable lesson!

Then I do believe it’s about putting in your 10,000 hours. Knowing how you like to work, what your process is, how to adjust to the people in the room with you. Trying things, failing, adjusting, trying again.

Or as Samuel Beckett said, “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

Adriana, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

All I ever wanted was to tell stories for an audience. That and be a boss. And make the world a better place. Ok and also eat really good food that I could grow myself. And spend time with family and friends…

So. First I started as an actor. I trained and studied performance, improvisation, and public speaking. Then, I turned my sights towards directing and became the captain of the creative ship. But I knew there was more, so then I studied the art of leadership and governance and got hired to be the Executive Artistic Director (aka “the boss”) of a theater company.

Tell stories. Check.
Be a boss. Check.

But I knew that I could have an even bigger impact on my community (and a ripple effect to changing the world) by helping other people lead THEIR organizations and industries, get elected to public office, or get promoted into those coveted “decision-making” roles. So I became a speaking coach.

Help make the world a better place? Check.

And along the way, “grow my own food & spend time with loved ones” filled in. That part came from recognizing patterns of burnout and perfectionism that were keeping me from fully enjoying both work and life and deliberately making change to prioritize balance and health. I wish I could say that changing these patterns was as easy as rhubarb pie, but in fact it took years. (And it’s still a work in progress!)

Since I work with people who are ambitious, smart, busy, and focused (like me!), I know how easy it would be to say, “Here’s your quick external tips, tricks, and tools. Peaceout.” But we’re not cookie cutters. Each person deserves to be met exactly where they are and to be treated like a 360-degree human. Giving people a 10-point bullet list of “how to do effective public speaking” Does. Not. Work.

Your unique mind, the language that works best for you, and the needs of your organization and community are all reasons I hold a holistic view of each person at the the core center of my coaching practice.

In addition to my coaching and courses, I am a proud co-host of the podcast From Your Center where we share ideas, inspiration, and guidance to take courageous action towards a life well-lived. Combining our expertise in art and science, we help you integrate body, mind, and spirit to empower your personal and professional growth.

Fun Facts: I hold a Bachelor of Arts from Sarah Lawrence College and a Masters of Fine Arts from Columbia University. (As a theater director, I’ve worked with and lead over 1,800 actors and theater practitioners!) I live on a two-acre farm in SW Washington state with my husband and child. I spend most of my free time digging in the dirt, growing veggies, cooking, and reading. And I make sure to throw in some chill time with friends. For balance.

My passion and expertise is the art of communication. My mission is to guide clients through the process of speaking courageously with confidence and clarity in order to inspire their communities, increase their impact, and grow their careers.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

The myth of the starving artist.

I’m of the Rent generation. Many of us who were in high school and college in the late 90s got the bohemian bug instilled deeply inside our hearts and brains. We learned that the real way to be an artist was to be broke, hungry, desperate, and a general mess. There was pride in being a Starving Artist because we all knew that the only true artists were those who suffered. People with money and financial security were sellouts and villains.

But the emerging artists coming onto the scene are the Hamilton generation. They’re young, scrappy, and hungry. Their anthem is that to succeed, you have to fight. The goal is not to suffer, but to win. The old way of doing things is staid, boring, and conservative. And the next generation got one thing that I most certainly did not: the message that financial knowledge is… cool. Thank you, Alexander, for your service.

Because guess what? Being a starving artist is TERRIBLE! After grad school, I didn’t go to work in a squatters’ garret, making art late into the night. I went to work at a restaurant in New York City’s midtown so I could afford to pay my – you guessed it – rent. I had student debt, no savings, and no cushion. Was I dreaming of my next creative project and basking in the midday sun, full of inspiration and drive? No. I was tired from working until 2am, trying to figure out how I was going to get any creative projects going when I also had to take jobs that were unfulfilling and draining.

Scarcity does not bread creativity. It breeds stress, anxiety, and a narrow focus. Creativity is breath, breadth, openness, soft-focus. It’s knowing your basic needs are being met so you can rest and imagine and grow.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I have a vision about financial literacy for artists.

One of the primary things foundations look for when considering whether to approve a grant or not is fiscal health. Does the organization consistently run a deficit without a plan to cover it? Do they have a cash reserve safety net? How long can they survive until they next receive income? And, most importantly, do they have a reasonable and thoughtful plan?

What if we were to highly value financial wellness not just for institutions, but for individual artists as well? What if it was considered just as important to be working towards fiscal health as it was to be working towards an Obie? I know. It’s decidedly unsexy. It’s not really braggable or put-in-your-bio-able. But it is the thing that might allow us to make better, more experimental and risky work. Because if we weren’t afraid of not being able to pay rent if someone doesn’t like our art – if we could separate those two things – we could become freer and therefore more satisfied and happy artists.

So what might this take? First and foremost, I argue for financial education to be a cornerstone of all training programs at the undergrad and graduate levels. Too many of us graduate and suddenly realize we don’t know even the most basic basics. What deductions do I claim on my taxes? What’s the difference between a 1099 and a W-2? What do I need to be saving from my income to pay self-employment taxes? Let’s make sure we are training our artists to have a working knowledge of the following: budgeting, taxes, insurance, investing, balancing income and expenses, debt and borrowing options, and retirement planning.

Then, let’s teach every artist that they are a business and how to set themselves up as such. Once a simple LLC or sole-proprietorship is established and a separate bank account for the business is set up, we create a platform for writing off expenses, tracking income properly and easily, and more. Self-employed folks who have legitimized themselves as a business had a much easier time with unemployment applications like Pandemic Unemployment Assistance. Being an official business in the eyes of the government is a part of creating a safety net for ourselves and our work.

The psychological benefits to having a solid financial education and plan is immense. Does it mean we’ll suddenly have a steady income stream and the projects of our dreams? No. But it will help us sleep at night. And if we can spend more time in restful rejuvenation and less time in fearing the unknown, then we will become better artists. Instead of being infused with our mounting anxiety, the world will receive the gifts of our creativity.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.adrianabaercreative.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adrianabaer/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/adrianabaer/

Image Credits
Sense and Sensibility – Alley Theatre photos by Lynn Lane; Macbeth – Portland Center Stage photo by Kate Szrom; True West – Profile Theatre photos by David Kinder