Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Evie Ladin. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Evie, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. What did your parents do right and how has that impacted you in your life and career?
My parents just loved dancing, and live music. My mom was an international folk dance leader in New York City, when that was new to audiences, and all the rage. This was in the 60s. My dad fell in love with folk music at a hootenanny at Carnegie Hall in 1958 and famously threw out all his original rock and roll records (!), becoming a devotee and supporter of this burgeoning scene. This was the first “folk revival” when urban audiences were first starting to hear music from other cultures, including southern Appalachian stringband music – coming up from the south. We now see music festivals happening every weekend, but the idea was new back then, and my parents took us to the very first folk festivals – where people didn’t just consume music and dance, but participated in it – just as with all traditional cultures. This was first world culture coming to terms with craving the connections lost by separating from traditional cultures around the world. My parents led us to understand that making music and dance with others was what people do, and I’ve been holding that space in a variety of ways throughout my career, and really upholding that value – as a salve to the loneliness and disconnection of modern society.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
As a professional I run haywire through performance and participatory arts – a percussive-dancer, choreographer, singer, songwriter, banjo player and square-dance caller with a lifetime of experience in traditional American cultural arts and intercultural music/dance performance and education. Based in Oakland, CA, I grew up in a traditional folk scene on the East Coast of the US, and early on was drawn to other cultures where music and dance are an integral part of social communication. My performances, recordings and teaching reconnect Appalachian arts with other African-Diaspora traditions, in the American folk music world, the international Body Music and percussive/rhythm dance communities, and at all levels of education. What sets me apart, what I offer as an artist/educator, is the most human connection to shared arts experiences – my audience feels involved, engaged, whether they’re actively moving or skill-building, or just watching and listening. Though I’ve written many bios and grants about my work, it remains challenging to convey in words, since the goal is experiential. I get continuous feedback that whether it’s music I’m singing, teaching you to play, leading you in dance, or my own performative choreographies, I bring people into visceral connection. It’s intimate and effective.
I graduated from Brown University (BA: African Studies In Dance), and received both Fulbright and Watson Fellowships, to study music/dance in Eastern Nigeria. Anthropology work trained me well for a freelance career, gladly stepping into new circumstances, venues, communities, to bring the skills that I can provide. I gained my professional training over a decade touring concert halls and festivals nationally with music/dance ensemble Rhythm In Shoes. Since landing in California in 2000, I’ve managed a multifaceted career – recording and touring music with my Evie Ladin Band, choreographing and filming MotoR/dance, performing and teaching around the world and producing festivals with partner Keith Terry and his intercultural, rhythm-based Crosspulse ensembles, teaching clawhammer banjo and creating community events in the greater Bay Area where I live.
Have you ever had to pivot?
I have had to pivot many times in the course of my life and career – from a bike accident that shortened my leg and the kind of dance career I had been expecting, to falling in love and restarting life in a new city, suddenly in a touring band, and more. But a more recent pivotal reality that elicits no shame occurred upon reaching a certain age, as a woman in the performing arts. I feel very fortunate that I didn’t really experience overt gender discrimination in the course of my career – until I hit mid-40s. Folk and roots music is very grounded in community – but its also a business. These aspects had blended easily until I got older, and quite suddenly there was a shift, and it became clear that I was becoming far less marketable to the industry. It surprised me to no end, because I had been working steadily for almost three decades, always growing my reach and reputation, with a lot of creative juice. By all accounts I was successful, until I became invisible. I was angry for a few years, frustrated that it was becoming untenable to reach some of my goals as an artist, through no fault of quality or necessity. But I am not a person who wants to stay angry. I pivoted – shifting my expectations to where I continue to have impact. And it worked. I let go of certain pathways, and aimed at opportunities that gave me all the things I really need: rich experiences, good people, good food, beautiful places and a sustainable income. A quality, highly creative life that has a felt impact in many directions.
Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?
I mention the broken leg, above. On my way to a dance rehearsal on my bike, last year of college, hit by a car. I was on my own at 20, and nobody suggested to the surgeon that they don’t just barely put the leg back together, and work to make it the same length as the other. Nobody took into account that I was a dancer, an athlete, that the 1″ discrepancy was going to impact my spine, muscles, levels of pain, for the rest of my life. On crutches for the whole of my last year of college and well beyond, I took dance classes – fortunately a good dose of floor barre that i could do, swinging my full leg cast around. My housemates helped me more than I understood – making it possible for me to finish my classes and graduate on schedule. My final project in dance was on crutches to Sly Stone’s “Que Sera Sera.” My final in choreography I couldn’t perform in, but I created to Michelle Shocked’s “When I Grow Up I Want to be an Old Woman.” When the cast eventually came off and rehab started, the doc said I was so much more flexible that almost anyone in my situation. I worked it.
I was in a professional percussive dance company for the rest of my twenties, but I eventually had to quit because my leg was going numb trying get through a whole evening’s concert. Shin splints, scar tissue – I just didn’t have the flexibility I needed. When I moved on, I shifted to more music than dance. Then I shifted to include calling square dances, and creating and performing Body Music – not requiring the intense articulation of my feet, while still calling on all of my rhythm skills. I have continuously shifted my creativity in response to physical ability, and swore to always take good care of my human instrument to remain resilient.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://evieladin.com/about-evie-ladin/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/evieladin/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/evieladin/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/evieladin/
- Other: https://www.tiktok.com/evieladin/
Image Credits
Dean Bosche/Outdoor Film, Snap Jackson, Lisa Berman, Cliff Warner