The Art of the Effortless
There’s nothing like an outrageous commitment being tested on day three. I’m just sitting down to write today’s post, but what a day it was!
In my life so far, I’ve had the chance to produce a good number of events, but this morning, I produced my very first TEDx!
The inaugural TEDxTysons event brought together an incredible mix of speakers, each more talented, articulate, and inspirational than the one before. Sarah Fraser, a terrific broadcast personality and the host of the HeyFrase podcast, hosted the event, bringing incredible lady humor and pizazz to the stage. John Bailey, who has demonstrated what is possible when someone decides to overcome the assumptions and potential limitations of legal blindness, almost brought me to tears with his beautiful stories of determination and triumph. Andrew Chapman convinced me that my next professional move should definitely be to write a book, and Michael Edson spurred me to imagine what might become possible when an international organization like the UN embraces the chance to reach all of its stakeholders with an ambitious initiative like UN Live. Diana Sierra, the founder of Be Girl, wowed and inspired everyone with her BeGirl period products and training, aimed at helping girls (and women) everywhere overcome the hurdles and embarrassing moments sometimes caused by early adolescent menstruation. Prior to the event, I had the chance to work with some incredible speakers, most significantly Boris Willis (a dance technologist and the creator of Boris Willis Moves) on an incredible piece that paired poetry, virtual reality, music, and dance (yes, really).
As I sat at my computer at 11:30pm last night, wracking my brain for the final details that would make the run of show perfect, I was struck by the irony of effortlessness, a theme that carried through all of the following day. In public performance and events especially, if everything goes 100% perfectly… no one notices. Sure, the show is moving and inspiring, but the technical mechanisms of a 10-talk show are complex, and almost infinite while you’re in the midst of it. Setting and checking microphones, sound levels, PowerPoint presentations, and video files, not to mention getting every speaker and performer comfortable on stage is tiresome work that requires planning and adaptation. Getting every single little detail right requires forethought, organization, and management, and someone in charge (namely, ahem, a producer) to make sure it all gets done, which, one way or another, it inevitably does.
As I wrote, rehearsed, and ran the run of show for today’s event, observing at every turn the mysterious effortlessness we were weaving around our audience, I was thinking about needing to come home and write this post (three down, only 362 more to go!). It occurred to me that, as women, we spend a lot of time performing the art of the effortless: the perfectly manicured nail, the beautifully quaffed hair, the flawlessly concealed skin, the impeccably whitened teeth, not to mention the countless hours at the gym or on the mat.
Some might argue that it’s performed servitude to chauvinism and objectification, but, while that may be partly true, it’s not really the point. Yes, ladies are held to an impossibly high standard of physical beauty that has no masculine equivalent, but we also have easy access to an enormous array of products and accessories that allow us to change our perceived aspect on a whim. While most men are confined to the effect made possible by a well-ironed shirt, a nicely tailored pair of pants, and a good shave, we can easily opt into any color palette, clothes style, or dye job we choose without anyone thinking any worse of us. We can buff, smooth, smoosh, or conceal any part of ourselves to great effect. Of course, the trouble arises when the effortlessness becomes expected as the status quo, rather than a delightful magic trick.
At the after-party for today’s event, I stood with one of the event’s curators, and my assistant producer, debriefing on the day. He was overjoyed with how well everything had gone, and thrilled that he had had the luxury of sitting and watching many of the day’s talks rather than running around like a decapitated chicken. One of the event’s VIPs, a strong sponsorship prospect for next year’s event, stopped by to shake the curator’s hand, and congratulate him on a job well done. The curator gestured to me and my AP as those responsible for the success of the event. The VIP smiled and nodded, clapping the curator on the shoulder to congratulate him for his leadership, giving credit to his team rather than taking it for himself, and then extended a hand to introduce himself to me.
“No, really,” the curator said. “These are the guys who made it all happen — .” I took the VIP’s hand in mine, and spoke quietly into his ear, “I’m the producer,” I said, smiling. He looked up, eyes wide, and then slowly bent to kiss my hand instead of shake it, a rare form of earnestly executed chivalry. Only a few hours later, I can hardly recall what he said next, so shocked was I by his extraordinary expression of appreciation. In a world where we exert so much effort in service to the perception of effortlessness, in that moment, I was grateful to know that at least one person in the audience was really watching.
