Jackie Traish: Artist Feature

Meet Jackie Traish: musician, teaching artist, and ABI Fellow, where she is the recipient of the Julia Slavin Scholarship.

We sat down with Jackie to speak about her inspirations, favorite stories as a performer and teaching artist, and unique perspective on being a professional musician in NYC.

 

 

ABI: How do you incorporate storytelling into your artistic practice?

JT: I have always felt so strongly that music really is the language that we can all connect with, no matter your age, experience, background, or history. And since it is such an expressive language, it inherently helps us to share our stories with each other. It’s one of the reasons that I have always loved interdisciplinary art and working with actors and dancers when creating musical projects. When programming my own concerts, I try to have a running theme and I make sure to connect each piece to the one before it so that the entire concert tells a story by the end of the show. When working on newly commissioned works, I try to take the time to speak with the composer and do research on the topic in order to make sure that what I perform matches the message behind their work.

As an educator, I share my own personal story of how music has helped me grow and develop into the person I am, and I always encourage my students to find ways to connect to the music they are learning or listening to, and explore how it makes them feel. Storytelling is how we can share our experiences and connect as a community at large, and that’s how we change the world for the better: one story at a time.

ABI: Who or what inspires you?

JT: I wouldn’t be the musician or person I am today without all of the people that I have surrounded myself with over the years. My family and friends are the ones who remind me that I am supported, loved, valued, and admired, while also reminding me when it’s time to rest, take a deep breath, and stay grounded. They are the people in my life who I know would be by my side with one phone call or text message. They are the ones who have seen my journey; and through success, joy, laughs, heartbreak, love, loss, and everything in between, they continue to be there for me. I would be nowhere without them, and I take them with me in everything I do. 

ABI: Writer Elizabeth Gilbert says that for every artistic path, an artist must learn to eat the “sh*t sandwich” that comes along with it. What is your perspective of the “sh*t sandwich” that you need to eat as a musician?

JT: That this field is a marathon, not a sprint. And that it takes incredible determination and hard work, as well as patience and independence. 

To be a musician is an incredible gift when it comes to creating art as your career. You get to connect with people through your performances and teaching and share stories with wide audiences — and getting to pay your bills while doing what you love is pretty amazing! With all of these positives, there are cons, too. Being a musician is not seen as a lucrative career in society, and you are met with a lot of negativity and doubt when you first start (sometimes even by people that you love and care for). It’s also a career that takes a long time to develop, usually including years of training in higher education, audition and teaching experience, networking, and those 10,000+ hours of practice that all the books obsessively push at you. And did I mention you are usually asked to make these life decisions at the age of 17 or younger…YEAH…that’s a whole other aspect of the process that is challenging, as well. I could write a book on all of the lessons I’ve learned along the way!

However, to go back to the original statement, if you know that this is what you are meant to do in life, and you are determined to go the distance (Disney pun intended), the reward is priceless!

ABI: Let’s hear some of your best stories! What’s the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever had on stage?

JT: In my undergraduate program, we had these big studio performance opportunities for the entire School of Music to attend each month. It was actually a requirement that we all had to attend these performances for a course credit, so the audience was always packed. I decided to perform during one of them in order to prepare for my recital, and I was not really nervous for the performance. However, when the piece was done, I went to bow and what is the first thing that my eyes see on the stage floor? I never changed my shoes before going on stage! Now I know what you are thinking, “Oh, that’s not embarrassing at all.” But you would be wrong… because when you are in an all black fancy outfit, and then realize you’ve been wearing fuzzy, old, brown moccasin boots on the stage this whole time…you would be embarrassed, as well!  It was the only thing anyone remembered about that studio performance until the next performance happened. At least I played well…I think haha!

 

“It’s a daily practice

to love myself

and love my work…

not every day is easy,

but I know that I feel so much more connected to

who I am than ever before.”

 

ABI: Haha! Perhaps you were making a fashion statement? Could you tell us a story about the most heartwarming moment you had teaching children?

At the MUSES concert with all the students and instructors

JT: The story that immediately pops into my memory is when I was working as a ukulele teaching artist with MUSES (Music for Extraordinary Students). We were gearing up for our end of semester performance, and one of my students has insane stage fright. To paint a picture for you, the previous semester she started weeping before the concert because she was so terrified, which was so unlike her, and it took an hour to calm her down enough to just play one verse in front of the audience. So in preparation for another performance, we took time to really talk through how it would all go down so that hopefully she would feel more comfortable. She came to her lesson the week before the concert, and after we ran her piece, she excused herself from the room and returned with the assistant principal. Of course, I was concerned and confused as to why she needed administration in the room, and before I could even ask her what was going on, she told him to “Stand right here,” and she then looked at me and said “Let’s do this.” She brought him to our lesson room to practice for the performance so that she wouldn’t be scared! I was shocked, so proud, and she did so well! When it came time for the performance, there was not a single tear in sight! It’s incredible how much we can affect our students, but also how our students teach us something new everyday. And on that day, she taught me what it meant to truly be brave.

ABI: If there is one thing you could tell your younger self, what would it be?

JT: That you are beautiful and worthy just the way you are, and you can do anything you put your mind to.

I think that when we are young, we base too much of our value and worth as people in how “successful” we are. But by doing this, we allow other people’s subjective opinions of our work and what we do for a living to dictate how we see and treat ourselves. The reason I became a musician is because of how music made me feel. It gave me a way to connect with others and express emotions I couldn’t put into words. It helped me heal in times of great loss. It provided me a way of building my community full of joy and hope. But somewhere along my timeline, I allowed the world too much access to my sense of worth, and I started measuring who I was based on my successes in this industry. Was I booking enough gigs? Was I winning awards? Was I performing at the top venues? Did so-and-so like me enough to let me into their graduate program? And the list goes on and on. And if the answer to any of those questions was “No” or “I’m not sure”...then I felt like it was the end of the world.  

But it just isn’t true AT ALL. As I’ve gotten older and experienced more about life and what is truly important, I realized that I put too much weight in the hands of others when it came to how I feel about myself. And the world has a lot of brutal opinions and unsolicited advice if you let it speak. Once I decided to take the time to (1) fall back in love with myself and (2) remember why I became a musician in the first place, I started to see my world change for the better. I started saying yes to the things I wanted in my career and community, I started taking risks and asking for help when needed, and I started seeing my life take shape in how I actually wanted to live it (not in the way that society said I should live it). It’s a daily practice to love myself and love my work, and not every day is easy, but I know that I feel so much more connected to who I am than ever before. And at the end of the day, that is what is most important.

 

 

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Love in Music: A Story Sketch