We were lucky to catch up with Nisha Coleman recently and have shared our conversation below.
Nisha, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?
I have produced stories for a number of organizations, from local storytelling series to international partnerships, including with the World Health Organization, and the feeling is always the same: intimate, authentic, life-altering. Telling a personal story takes tremendous courage, and helping people navigate their anxieties around being vulnerable is often a first step in the process of story producing. Next comes the gruelling work of crafting the story—digging into memories, selecting the relevant details, the narrative threads, recurring themes and discovering the meaning behind the story. It is always humbling to accompany people through these stages, encouraging them to take risks and watching the story transform until it is finally performed. That last step is important. It’s when the alchemy happens. A storyteller is changed by telling their story, and so is their audience. Being a witness to this process is incredibly fulfilling.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
My artistic life has been circuitous, and in many ways has come full circle. As a kid I was drawn to acting, which is funny because I was incredibly shy. While I could barely have a conversation with another human, I could play characters on stage perfectly fine, and I found the experience of being someone else freeing. As an actor, each character is a sort of extension of yourself, so you learn about parts of yourself through the various characters. When I was 12, I started learning the violin and remained smitten with it for many years. I ended up studying violin in university, and when I graduated, I lived in Paris as a street musician. I started writing about my experiences as a street musician as chapters for an eventual memoir, and when I started reading these chapters on stage, I quickly noticed that most people were just telling their stories—no pages, no notes. After my memoir was published, I continued writing but I had discovered this whole new craft: storytelling. Storytelling blended all the art forms I had already explored. It incorporated writing, performing and even music as the spoken word is so melodic. I started writing and performing solo storytelling shows in which I would play different characters, and that led me back to acting! An agent came to one of my shows and offered representation. So I started auditioning and discovered the world of film, which, to my surprise I REALLY loved. All of these art forms are connected in my mind. They are all ways of telling a story, expressing emotion, transposing the human experience.
Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?
I spent a lot of time (years and years) toiling alone on my writing. I had no idea that connecting with other writers would completely transform my practice and improve my writing. It was only when I started taking workshops and meeting other writers and sharing my work that everything shifted. It can be very scary to share your work at first. Any little criticism can feel devastating. But you get used to it. And you learn to be “antifragile” about your work. You learn to know when someone’s feedback resonates with your vision and how to discern between resistance that is ego-driven and resistance that is simply your vision imposing itself. Having others trust me with their work has also been illuminating. Being able to think critically about other’s work has helped me think critically about my own. And the art of giving feedback is so important—to take in a piece wholly, to be able to see what is working and identify what is causing you to be confused or to disengage. Attending artist residencies has also been immensely beneficial. Listening to other artists speak about how they think and feel about the world and how they translate that into their art, whether it be music, painting or writing, is fascinating and motivating. Connecting with the artistic community (and by that I mean artists anywhere in any discipline) has been my most precious resource for inspiration, motivation and discipline.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
I really believe in the benefits of universal basic income (UBI). Not just for artists of course. Studies show that UBI pulls people out of poverty, improves health outcomes, and makes it easier for people to find jobs and take care of their kids. It would also have huge implications for artists. So often, artists must hustle with part-time gigs in addition to their art practice. I know many artists whose lives would be utterly transformed by such a system, including mine. And the world would benefit exponentially because a lot more art would be created! I think people need to acknowledge the ways in which their lives are enhanced by art. Too often it is unappreciated or unnoticed. During the pandemic, polls showed how little the general public thought of artists, how low on the list of “essential jobs” artists appeared. And all the while they consumed hours of film, TV, written content, music, etc. What I observed was that art is utterly essential for people’s souls, but they don’t necessarily acknowledge it. Or want to pay for it. It’s so crucial for people to support artists financially whenever they possibly can.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.nishacoleman.com
- Instagram: @nishacoleman
- Other: Vimeo:
https://vimeo.com/user104404016
Image Credits
Photographers:
Jeremy Cabrera
Ian Lawrence
Vivien Gaumand