Lynn Peterson and Eric March met in New York City. Both artists are of different mediums, and their passions brought them together. Peterson was just starting SYREN, her modern dance company, and through a friend, March made the company’s first designs. A painter, he had gotten his first job in New York at a gallery painting decorative art on demand after moving to the city from Illinois.
More than two decades later, their artistry persists. SYREN is celebrating its 22nd season, and Peterson continues to dance in the company. In 2020, the group performed as a U.S. Cultural Ambassador at Expo Dubai, a world fair that nearly 200 countries attended.
March’s painting studio is less than a mile from their home in New Haven, Conn. His large stretches of paintings and murals depicting busy community scenes appear across the city, from the Cornell Scott Hill Health Center to a work-in-progress at the State Street train station.
Some new additions have made their way into Peterson and March’s personal lives, too – their marriage and, later, their children, Silas and Sawyer. And with them, more jobs to keep the bills paid.
Flexible schedules for creative lives
“There's a lot of a-rhythmic-ness to the rhythm,” said Peterson, joined by March and their two kids. All were sitting around a coffee table, holding a previous game of The Settlers of Catan in their living room.
“When we're rehearsing, I'm commuting into New York City for our rehearsals… On the other days, I spend most of my mornings doing administrative work for SYREN because my partner, Kate Sutter, and I wear most of the administrative hats, as well as being a dancer in the company, and the choreographer for the company. And there's constant ongoing work running a nonprofit organization…”
March’s schedule is equally hectic. He rattled off the list of his given weekly roles – web design, web development, graphic design, illustration, teaching, and commissioned artwork. But he still considers his painting his main gig.
“For my head, [I think], “Stay focused. Your main deal is the art.” That's how I want to think about it...I've been able to survive this long. I'm still making art, which is great. Lynn's still dancing and has a dance company, and our kids aren't in juvie. That's great.”
Peterson also teaches dance, with a few other hustles sprinkled in. But at this stage in her career, she said she considers everything she does a part of one, centralized passion. She got tired of being pulled in all different directions.
“I've been trying to get away from a mentality… that has me feeling siloed as a person because of having all these different hats… All of this work is connected. My company work is my primary focus, and everything I do feeds that focus and contributes to that vision happening.”
For March and Peterson, their family—their children, each other—is a part of their art.
Their son Sawyer is nine. Growing up with March and Peterson as parents, he said he knows his hobbies look different than some of the things his friends do, and he’s proud to share them. He draws often, and has started to tinker with 3D modeling – hugging a squishmallow on the couch, he overflows with stories of everything he gets to do because his parents are artists.
“I've had a life to entertain myself without screens, and since my parents are artists, like, I know how to draw, and I get lots of practice, like, because I'm not spending the entire day in front of the TV,” Sawyer said.
His older brother Silas speaks more softly. Sharing his projects, he said he might not get around to finishing all of them, but he knows his parents support his endeavors regardless.
“I wanted to make this model building that I never made," Silas said. "So we went to the art store and bought this little piece of wood shingle. And I never used it, but I might have used it,” he said. “And I started a Super Soaker from scratch, and I didn't finish it, but I might have, so it's really useful and kind of fun.”
Both boys have memories of drawing in their dad’s art studio and playing tag with their friends after their mom’s dance performances. The arts are embedded in their lives.
Real pressures and unrealistic stereotypes
Some depictions of the artist’s life don’t include kids or even a family – they’re seen as lone wolves, living without any other attachments. But for most creatives, that’s just not reality. People rely on you.
“I have to watch how I spend my time,” March said. “If I don't have the money to pay my rent, we're going to get evicted, you know? So it's not a great feeling all the time, but that's the reality of the situation.”
According to Peterson, there’s an added layer of frustration being an artist who’s also a mother — not in the actual act, but in how people interpret her balance.
“So many female-identifying people who are parents do feel like we have to have this choice and that we're somehow making a lesser choice if we're continuing to work rather than take care of our kids. And I've never felt like it's a lesser choice.”
However, Peterson and March agree that having a family doesn’t invalidate or detract from their lives as artists. If anything, their passion for their work is reflected in what their kids love.
“People say, “Oh, is it such a sacrifice to have kids?”” March said. “It doesn’t feel like a sacrifice. It's like, this is life, man. This is it. I think lots of things are important, and my family is one of them.”
In the same way art is a part of Silas and Sawyer’s lives, the two boys have made their way into their parents’ art as well.
March has painted multiple portraits of his wife and kids at different stages in their lives. They dot his studio in New Haven, one portrait of his wife sitting against the wall, another hanging above the door frame. One work-in-progress depicts all four of them against a cerulean blue backdrop of water, crafting a bridge all together from a birds-eye view. Many other pieces aren’t centered around his family – they depict political, racial and social tensions or large urban landscapes.
But even when his family and friends aren’t directly involved in a piece, they sneak into his work in subtle ways. He pointed across paintings on a long wall, showing which figures different family members had posed for. Silas, Sawyer, Peterson, his father, and his friends were all there.
“That's my way of being able to make complicated figure paintings on my budget — using my friends and family and myself as models.”
Peterson’s family makes her feel grounded in her practice. Running a dance company means filling many different shoes, and it can be difficult to quiet her mind when the time comes to dance. In those moments, she thinks of her kids.
“Being their mom has helped me remember what's really important in those moments, and to let some of that BS go out the window – worrying about who's there, worrying about did we sell enough tickets – and kind of be like, “what would I do if only Silas and Sawyer were in the room right now?” and that's all that really matters.”
March and Peterson’s constantly evolving roles and schedules reveal realistic difficulties in the life of an artist supporting a family. At the same time, their rhythm highlights the resilience of creatives and the help that young minds can provide along the way.
Do you or someone you know have a passion for a craft in the arts and culture world, but you've got a different main gig to pay the bills? Share your story – reach out to eda@wshu.org.
