We were lucky to catch up with Joy Lee recently and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Joy, thank you for joining us today and sharing your experiences and acquired wisdom with us. Burnout is a huge topic these days and so we’d love to kick things off by discussing your thoughts on overcoming or avoiding burnout
I’m in the process of recovering from burnout right now. It’s hard. Even healing is hard! I burnt out mentally, physically, and emotionally last year—first mentally, then physically. At some point, my whole spirit felt heavy. I was exhausted, but hustling harder felt like the only answer. I didn’t know why I was doing what I was doing anymore, but I kept doing it because I didn’t know what else to do. Then I reached a point where I didn’t want to dance at all. I wasn’t eating or sleeping well. I didn’t even want to listen to music because it reminded me of dancing. It’s impossible to pinpoint when or where burnout happened exactly, but maybe it’s not about when or where, but how and why.
I was sick in bed for weeks and kept asking myself, “How did I get here? How did this happen?” I realize now that those aren’t necessarily bad questions, but it depends on how you ask them. When I asked out of frustration, blaming myself, I was missing the chance to actually see the answer to what I was asking. When I asked the exact same questions gently, though, from a place of love and real concern for myself, then I could actually begin my journey to recovery.
After some time and distance, surrounded by my family and people who make me feel safe and cared for, I’m beginning to see that I was isolated and anxious. I was literally far from home, but I was also growing farther from who I am. When I came to the US, I had both doubters and supporters. I wanted to prove my doubters wrong, and I wanted to make my supporters proud. After a while, though, those desires got mixed up and became a pressure that I placed on myself. I had set out to the US in search of myself, but it felt like I was running aimlessly. I assumed from the start that hardship would be inevitable so I normalized it until I crashed.
I’m in a much better place now and am focusing more on preventing injury and stress: I’m cutting back on coffee, taking daily walks, eating regular meals, getting more sleep, and most importantly, spending time with people who value me holistically for who I am. I’m slowing down and giving myself time to consider decisions more carefully, and reconnecting with my artistic inspirations, whether that be listening to old (favorite) music, finding new music to love, doing favorite stretches, or learning new movements through dance or yoga classes. In other words, I’m trying to find a good balance between doing familiar things that give me comfort and doing new things that excite me.
Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?
I’m a South Korean dancer, choreographer, and movement director in New York City working within/across contemporary, house, jazz, hip-hop, and ballet styles and traditions. I was a contemporary dance major at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul, a member of the Seoul-based dance collectives Magnolia and Gravity Cultureground, and a dance teacher at Seoul Tanz Station and Pas Dance Studio before coming to the US in 2019 to expand my dance repertoire. In NYC, I’ve participated in a range of solo and collaboration projects, including short films, modeling, visual art exhibitions, and musical performances. I’m also a member of a dance duo called Yahwa (야화) with fellow Korean dancer Haze Kim. In 2017, I danced for a humanitarian campaign by the International Committee of the Red Cross, and in April 2023, I was selected for YSL’s Push the Boundaries Prize, both milestones for me as an independent artist.
Currently, I’m in the early stages of developing a dance film, which would formally combine my love for music, visual art, storytelling, and (of course) dance, into a lasting artwork. As a dancer, I’m always aware that my body is aging/changing. As a choreographer, I’ve also always been interested in film’s unique ability to preserve and expand time. I want to see how dance and film as mediums can cooperate to capture and release moments. How does time, through art, become timeless? How does movement, through film, become an object? These are some of the questions that I hope to explore.
Looking back, what do you think were the three qualities, skills, or areas of knowledge that were most impactful in your journey? What advice do you have for folks who are early in their journey in terms of how they can best develop or improve on these?
Empathy
Dancers are constantly meeting people. We’re sharing space and energy. It can be overwhelming to try to relate to everyone, especially in a scene as diverse as New York City’s. I try to remember the limits and possibilities of empathy. This is because I don’t think empathy comes automatically. Like dance, it’s a blend of reflex and effort. Sometimes I have the impulse to relate to someone because their story resembles mine, but sometimes I have the opposite impulse: I want to run away because I think we don’t understand each other. But empathy requires work and imagination. It’s an emotional muscle that dancers should train like any other. I think empathy reveals the role of imagination in relationships. We can use our emotional imagination to understand people who are very different from us, to find surprising connections across language, culture, or personality barriers. Whether I gravitate towards a person or not, I try my best to approach them with the knowledge that, like me, they carry a whole world with them. Their world might intersect with mine directly, or it might have a faraway, parallel orbit. Both are possible forms of relationship.
Sincerity
Like most artists, I have plenty of thoughts and feelings about the distinctions between independent and commercial art. Can I make honest, personal art that is also commercially successful? When do artistic trends become market pressures? How do I participate in a greater scene while also maintaining my individual artistic identity? Most importantly, who can I trust?
Sometimes when I share these worries out loud, people tell me I’m overthinking. But I’m learning how to embrace my sensitivity. Yes, I’m a dancer, a mover, but I’m also a thinker and a feeler. My sensitivity is also my strength. I’ve learned that I must start with trusting myself and I can only do that by making sure that I’m honest with myself about my motivations and desires.
Sincerity is the thing that keeps me connected to my dreams and my reality. It’s a gentle but powerful force that can disrupt the categories we find ourselves in and invent around art. I don’t know if there is a right or wrong reason to make art, but I know that there’s a difference when I do something because it’s true to me, because I’m inspired, and because I feel some kind of external pressure to do it. There’s nothing worse than feeling of being forced to do something. There’s nothing better than feeling inspired and acting on it. Sincerity is the mental and physical state where my body and mind are honest with each other, moving together.
Joy
Maybe it’s a bit obvious, but I have to say this one because it’s my namesake! My mother named me 기쁨 (Gippeum), which means, literally, “happiness” in Korean. At first, when choosing an English name to go by internationally (since “Gippeum” is hard for non-Korean speakers to pronounce), I was resistant to “Joy” because I associated it with pet dogs for some reason! Also, 기쁨 isn’t a common name in Korea, while Joy is relatively common in the US. Some part of me wanted my English name to preserve the uniqueness of 기쁨, because it was my mother’s first blessing to me and I want to honor her in everything I do. But the name has since grown on me in surprising ways. Joy is a personal treasure, a blessing from my mother (who is the joy of my life), but it’s also a shared blessing that I want to represent in my art. This is why I say that Joy is my given name, but it’s also my chosen one. I think Joy is given and chosen every day.
Okay, so before we go we always love to ask if you are looking for folks to partner or collaborate with?
I’m open to collaborating with photographers, videographers, musicians, writers, dancers, and anyone else who thinks we might have a shared vision or sensibility. As I mentioned earlier, I’m especially focused on developing a dance film right now. While I have some experience with shooting and editing dance videos, I’m actively seeking people who might be able to collaborate on a dance/performance film — directors, producers, video editors, musicians, choreographers, dancers/actors.
I love to share and build ideas together and am eager to work with people who are also open to creating together and bringing the best out of each other’s experiences and expertise. My dream is to build a team of humble, ambitious, and diverse creatives who can sharpen and challenge each other’s ideas while knowing when and how to yield to a collective vision. Interested artists can reach me through my instagram, @joy_means_gippeum, or via email at gracehappylee@gmail.com.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @joy_means_gippeum
Image Credits
Elijah Rodriguez @elijahxrod Olga Prudka @olgaprudka Corey Hayes @coreyhayesphotos Christine Jiang @cjiaang @nikitina_photolife
