In October 2024 I walked into the photo pit of a Faye Webster concert, my press pass in hand and camera wrapped around my neck, feeling like life couldn’t get much better than this. As Webster took her place at the microphone stand, a mere foot away from my face, I was in disbelief at how I ended up there, writing an article about one of my favorite artists and seeing them in concert for free. I couldn’t help but wonder — was this what arts journalism was all about?
Being an arts journalist at times meant being front row at Kilby Block Party, interviewing a real housewife of Salt Lake City or reviewing a Sundance film about Jeff Buckley; other times it looked like shaking my head at how many times I said ‘um’ in an interview or quickly researching avocado farming because I was interviewing an avocado farmer in an hour.
But I’ve learned over the last two years at the Chronicle that being a journalist is all these things and more — it’s the unglamorous, meticulous moments that require patience; it’s checking that I spelled an NBC executive’s name correctly a hundred times just to get an email later that day saying that I did in fact, misspell their name. It’s cold emailing a publicist to get an interview with Audrey Hobert, your absolute idol, even though you know that the chances are slim, maybe zero (I didn’t get the interview, but I will one day). It is standing in your first press line at the Sundance Film Festival, hoping that Anthony Mackie will stop and talk to you, to then watch his publicist sweep him away before you get the chance to. Moments like these, where I felt stressed, underqualified, naive or slightly stupid, were the ones that I know I’ll miss most about being a student arts journalist — experiencing it all for the first time.
One of the first interviews I conducted as an arts writer was with “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” cast. To say that I was stressed when I learned that I would be interviewing celebrities is an understatement. For two weeks, I prepped questions and watched screeners. I felt like an actress, pacing around my room reciting my lines and practicing facial expressions. When I told my dad about the anxious jitters I had leading up to the interview, he said that my nerves were a sign that this was something worth doing, something that mattered to me.
That’s what arts journalism is — something worth doing. Each article I write, topic I research or interview I conduct, I’m scared the whole way through — afraid to mess up a name or ask the wrong question. But pushing past my fear, embracing it, has turned out to be one of the most rewarding experiences of my life so far.
Last summer, I moved to Santa Barbara, California, for an arts and culture internship at the local newspaper there. I spent most of my time there tanning on my balcony or walking at sunset with my nighttime tea in hand. But when I wasn’t lounging and soaking in the cool California weather, I was writing articles. I quickly learned just how important my articles were to the arts community. One painter, whom I interviewed and featured in a story, wrote to me after the piece was published and told me that my words made her work feel understood and seen. Receiving feedback like that re-affirmed to me that I was doing something that mattered, and that yes, people did in fact read my articles. Knowing I could give someone a platform who wasn’t recognized enough for their craft, especially in the arts, made me feel incredibly grateful and lucky.
As I step out of my role as a student arts writer, I feel privileged to have been given this space to practice, create and play. Writing has been my sanctuary and my creative space for as long as I can remember and I can’t express enough how lucky I feel to have turned my passion into my future career. As Taylor Swift said in her song, “You’re On Your Own, Kid” — “Something different bloomed, writing in my room.”
