Today we’d like to introduce you to Jean Leah Atkins.
Hi Jean Leah, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
The story of my performance journey began when I was barely three years old and my mother registered me for my first year of dance. At my first recital, she anxiously watched me spend the majority of my time on stage searching for the spot where I was supposed to stand instead of dancing, worried that I would come off the stage in tears. To her surprise, I came strutting down the stairs beaming, “Momma I was wonderful! When can I go on stage again?”
For as long as I can remember, I have looked up to performers and musicians with starstruck awe. Enthralled with their ability to capture emotion and story so vividly into beautiful artistic expressions that can influence so many, such as myself. I have always struggled when it came to verbally expressing myself, but when it comes to art, it simply flows. I could be too shy to speak truth to a friend, yet I would find myself on a stage sharing my whole voice, body, and soul with full vulnerability. It wasn’t until my adulthood that I finally understood why: Language fails to express the non-physical thoughts and feelings I experience as a human. Yet where words fail, art flourishes. My heart’s desire has remained fixated on this sentiment I most easily define as: Words were created to detail the physical world. Art is created to translate the abstract and surreal. That language is universal, and individual to the observer. Which is why my heart finds its home there.
I grew up in the small town of Tallassee, Alabama, where creative opportunity was scarce. Despite this, I always found my friends and family went to great lengths to allow my passion room to flourish. I spent my formative years practicing competitive dancing, but my dream expanded when I was offered the chance to go to Sanford University’s 2012 Summer Theatre Camp. After years of dance, I knew that I loved to perform, but adding singing and acting into the equation really turned up the heat on my passion to take the stage.
My love for the stage didn’t end there. I became inspired by my sister to audition for beginner band, where I chose the “oddball” instrument “oboe” to learn. When I got old enough for marching band, I realized I couldn’t march with an oboe, so I taught myself tenor saxophone, and later guitar to play in the pit. I’ll brag momentarily to declare that though my time in concert, jazz, and marching band was more of a side quest in my performance journey, I did earn the honors of All-District 6 Oboe, participation in the Montgomery Youth Symphony Orchestra, and a number of honor bands around Alabama.
Despite my high school not having proper funding for a theatre or a performance department, they miraculously decided to pull strings to produce a musical to provide performance opportunities for the students. It was such a success that the program continued and the following year I was able to participate in the ensemble for the school’s production of “Bye Bye, Birdie”. The following year I earned a supporting lead as Sharpay Evans in “High School Musical.” My Senior year, I starred as Marian in “The Music Man”.
In addition to musicals, dance, and band, I took every opportunity to participate in performance. So much so, that my teachers gave me special permission to split “last period” into three different classes, alternating between them as necessary for rehearsals: Theatre, Jazz Band, and Show Choir/Chamber Choir. I even managed to expand my repertoire and won district 6 Outstanding Choral Student through these efforts. I look back and wonder how I managed, but am so grateful that I did. These experiences were fundamental to building the performance skills I have today.
Upon graduation I found myself studying Film and Acting at the University of North Alabama (UNA) in Florence. It is here I left behind the world of classical performance, and began studying a more contemporary approach. I began having opportunities to act in the student films of my peers, which was as much a lesson in team-building and creative collaboration as it was in performance. I was involved in several stage productions at UNA as well, such as Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”, and “Is This Seat Taken?”. However, it was barely a year into my journey there when the pandemic began. Which was a complete and total halt for live performance. This hit me hard. At the time, I wasn’t sure when I would be able to perform again, so I made the decision to transfer to the University of Alabama (UA) in Tuscaloosa to be a little closer to home.
I had always enjoyed writing singer-songwriter-styled songs on my guitar, but the extended time alone led to an increased output of original work. I wrote more than 12 songs during lockdown, and began to fiddle around with learning to record. It’s kind of funny to revisit these raw recordings now that I’m more experienced. Although they are not “professional” sounding, I still look back in awe at what I was able to accomplish alone and how it inspired me to continue my creative journey.
As pandemic restrictions eased, and we began to return to campus, I found myself lost for a sense of direction. I no longer felt the same draw towards live theatre and classical vocal performance; I now felt a strong desire to perform my original songs and tell my original stories. I looked around and clearly saw an abundance of talent like myself that was happy to perform the art of others, but I needed something different now. I needed to perform my own work.
A good friend of mine recommended that I change my major and join the UA’s New College program. I was hesitant at first, being three and a half years into college already it seemed silly to change everything then. I sat down with an advisor and told her what I wanted. I want to study so many subsets of performance art and entertainment, that there doesn’t seem to be a degree that encompasses it all. I wanted to learn and enhance my ability to sing, act, write, create, record, collaborate, etc. I wanted to be a creative performance mastermind, and not in a traditional sense.
When I say I am grateful for UA’s New College it feels like an understatement. Through their program, I was allowed access and overrides to classes of my specific interest and was able to piece my focuses together into a very unique education. I took many formative courses such as experimental music, girlhood, feminism, outdoor leadership, introduction to recording/film, dance, voice and movement, songwriting, period decor, stage management, creativity, etc. This is how I earned my interesting and almost excessively long titled degree: Bachelor’s of Arts Interdisciplinary Degree with a depth focus in Songwriting, Performance Studies, and Multimedia production, with a double minor in English and Theatre. I know it’s a mouthful, but I worked hard for it, so I will choke over the words evermore.
During my time at UA, I received an opportunity to act in a film produced by my former UNA film professor which felt like the perfect crossover. How lucky am I to keep the connections from my first college and continue making new ones elsewhere? This is how I began acting in independent short films, primarily films with an aim to depict raw and true human experiences in a “southern” font. These films have been presented in several film festivals around the US. I starred in Michael Curtis Johnson’s “Cotton Candy Sky”, which was selected for Filmfort at Treefort Music Fest 2024 (Boise, Idaho), Chattanooga Film Festival 2024, Montgomery Film Festival 2024, and Tallahassee Film Festival 2024. It is a treat to be a part of such rich, original art and it is a privilege, as well as an honor, to be trusted to convey these meaningful stories. It’s even more gratifying for me to be a part of local art and performance such as this. The stories we are telling are a part of my own southern roots, with inspiration and elements of my own story, as well as the writer’s. How special is that?
Today I find myself right outside of Birmingham, Alabama. I have been working for GAT3 MidSouth recording for about a year as an effort to learn how to record, mix, master, and produce music. It is my hope that this skill will better equip me to actualize my creative visions, as well as others’.
As I write this, I have recently wrapped a performance in the first independent theatre production by Joy’s Jubilations. The play was written by the director’s very own friend, Lydia Bushfield, titled “Queens of Hearts”. This play was about the importance and joys of Southern womanhood, which has only continued to inspire my deep love of community and appreciation for local art and performance. Next, I take the stage for another original work, taking the lead for Joe Kendrick’s staged reading of his musical “Camp Creator”.
I have shared my story, and I have stayed on the sunny side. I decided to omit many memories and judgements of others, because they are meaningless through the eyes of my heart’s truth. I will cast a small shade to make my final point: Alabama isn’t exactly known for its creative opportunity or its funding of the arts. How many people’s advice have I ignored? How many times have I eschewed a “practical” career to pursue the path that fuels my soul. As I sit here, having reflected on my journey, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. How lucky am I, despite growing up in a low-income area, despite the “practical doubt” of others, despite having to work two jobs to fund my passions, to have found my way to all these bountiful creative avenues, made all these fulfilling connections, and participated in sharing such meaningful stories? I think back to that little girl, who made plenty of mistakes on that stage. I imagine how she strutted off stage anyway, less aware of her shortcomings than the desires that the experience burned into her. If I can keep her spirit high, I know I will continue to make her proud.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
The challenges I’ve faced seem trivial in the shadow of my successes. However, coming from a lower-income background with scarce creative opportunities or resources, I have always had to work hard to support my dreams and find opportunities. Throughout my six-year college journey, I have worked as a server and bartender to cover the rising cost of education and cost of living. While I am more than grateful for what I have, and what my mother, financial aid, and scholarships have provided, I have always needed to spend 20-30 hours of my weeks working. Much of my time has been consumed by a field that is irrelevant to my passions, and can sometimes be very physically and emotionally brutal. When you spend that much time doing physical labor, it makes it difficult to find the time and energy to not only study, but to actively work on your own creative vision. I have turned this contrast into experience, I see my time bartending as a practice of improvisational performance. I have learned to cater my customer service to a wide array of diverse clientele. I have learned stories and received inspiration, even connections from those who have sat at my bar. Now, I hardly see this as a setback, and see it more as character building.
The pandemic was tough for everyone, not just performers, but lockdown made it hard to envision a career in the arts. I spent a long time hunkered down, alone, wondering if a live audience could ever again be filled with maskless faces. Have you ever tried to sing through a mask? It is not such an easy task. This doubt was coaxed by the efforts I saw from creative communities to find ways to create and perform despite the circumstances. During the filming of Michael Curtis Johnson’s “The Kind of Love that Hurts”, we had strict rules on set. Two examples of this are that only certain numbers of people were allowed in rooms at a time, we could only remove our masks temporarily for active filming, and we had limited access to locations. These restrictions slowed down production, but they demonstrated how art can persevere in the face of adversity. We had a story to tell and we told it.
Today, I struggle most with self-doubt, though I try very hard to counter these feelings. I look around at my peers, some of which have the support of larger, more affluent families who seemingly have plenty of time to pursue their dreams instead of worrying about making ends meet. I scroll through social media and see people younger than me finding rich success, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m falling behind. I always come back to a self-reassurance: this is “my” story, and no truly great story has ever lacked contrast.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I typically define myself as a performance artist. I specialize in songwriting, performance (acting, singing, music, dancing), writing, and am now studying music production. My B.A. from the University of Alabama’s title is: Songwriting, Performance Studies, and Multimedia Production with a double minor in English and Theatre. I have so much desire to create, capture, and share meaningful artistic visions that I’ve often found it difficult to “specialize” in a specific area, though many have argued that I might have found more success had I chosen one field of study. However, I feel most myself with the freedom to dip my toes into as many creative avenues of performative and artistic expression as I please.
I have written numerous songs in a southern gothic indie singer-songwriter style. Just me and my guitar. I want to create art that inspires others and expresses my unique story. I want to create the same kind of art that influenced me to take the stage myself. I have yet to release my music, as I am still developing the skills in audio engineering and music production needed to actualize the vision of my first album. I feel a strong need to have an active hand in the production of my music, despite the additional work and skill that is necessary.
I am beyond proud of my work in independent short films around North Alabama. I have performed in Michael Curtis Johnson’s “The Kind of Love that Hurts”, “Cotton Candy Sky”, and most recently “Flotsam and Jetsam”. I have also acted in NYU student Cole Johnson’s student film “Somewhere Off 72”, and “Cottonmouth”. I hope to continue participating in local independent films such as these, where my cast and crew are friends as well as co-workers.
I would like to be known for my creative variability. I think what sets me apart from others is my desire to learn and understand the artistic process from all possible angles. It’s not enough to perform the story, I want to direct it. It’s not enough to record the song, I want to produce it. It’s not enough to sing the song, I want to write it. I imagine what I will be capable of if I understand my work not only through the eyes of an artist, but from a technical perspective, which is an entirely different avenue of expression.
So maybe we end on discussing what matters most to you and why?
What matters most to me is art. Not just the art that I create, but all creative expression. Language was created to explain the physical world, hard and tangible. But art is created to express the inner world, surreal and abstract. Without this expressive language, we lose the full picture of what it means to be human. Our earliest language as human was art. Pictures and stories that were passed down and left for us. Art which we can use to inspire our own understanding of this life experience. We aren’t just bodies clanging around, doing this and that. We are human beings who are experiencing, feeling, and desiring. These sentiments aren’t done justice through words alone, and this is why art is crucial to human expression.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://atkinsjeanleah.wixsite.com/jean-leah-atkins—d
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jean.leah.a/
- Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@jeanleahatkins
