Lyric soprano Robin Hahn (she/they) is a lauded performer, stage director, music educator, and disability advocate—that’s a lot of jobs! Robin’s artistic career has taken them all over the world, from Amsterdam to New York, to Disneyland. Describing herself as “joyfully disabled,” Robin is a respected voice for disabled artists within the opera community, working with arts organizations of all types to make their spaces, facilities, resources, and events more accessible and inclusive for all artists. In 2011, Robin co-founded Opera Mariposa, Canada’s only 100% openly disability-led and -run opera company, and has since become a respected disability advocate within the operatic community.
What has been your experience as a disabled artist working with arts organizations?
In general, I’ve been able to work with companies who understand and give space for my disability. Much of what I do to make my career accessible to me is outside of rehearsal time—I plan my workload carefully, avoid auditions for rehearsal schedules I can’t manage, and don’t usually travel far from home for audition season—but I do let companies know right away that I may need to sit down in place during long staging rehearsals. I also regularly use a (fabulously glamorous) cane, so while I may need to use that during rehearsals, I’m always happy to talk to the company about whether I’ll use it during actual performances.
Usually, none of that has been a problem. If it is, that comes up early enough in the process that the company and I can part ways without issue. In the end, if a company’s not willing to work on its accessibility enough to include disabled artists like me, well… that’s their loss, not mine!
How has your experience as a disabled singer influenced your artistry?
I like to say that I make joyfully disabled art. I use sparkly, formal canes in various colors to match my concert gowns. In the productions I direct, I show off the mobility aids of disabled performers onstage, instead of hiding them, and when I sing disabled characters like Mimì or Violetta, I’m always playing them with their stories of disability in mind. Disability is a part of me, and a part of everything I do, so it becomes a part of my art, as well. I think nondisabled folks sometimes think of disability as inherently tragic or sad, and that’s just not true. Disability in and of itself is morally neutral, a state of being, an identity like any other. I could explore storytelling, music, and theater through those lenses forever and always be a fulfilled artist.
How can arts organizations make performing opportunities more accessible?
The first thing to know is that accessibility isn’t just one thing. It isn’t a test, or a task to complete, or a single objective to meet and never have to address again. Accessibility can mean different things for everyone, and therefore making a space more accessible is a goal we should keep striving towards. Just because a space is ADA-compliant doesn’t mean it’s automatically accessible and inclusive, but there are small, easy, inexpensive changes that an opera organization can make today to increase accessibility.
For example, the single quickest, easiest thing operatic spaces can do to become more accessible is to increase mask-wearing. Because many disabled and chronically ill people are immunocompromised or at elevated risk for airborne illnesses, some people don’t have access to opera at all without it. This small thing could be the difference between an accessible space and an inaccessible one.
What do you want people to know about disabled artists?
I want the opera world to know that I’m not the only one. Disabled artists are already here, and it’s time the opera world realized that. I have heard from so many artists through my disability advocacy work that they thought they were alone in this. Pressure to appear healthy forces people to pretend they aren’t disabled and work through pain, exhaustion, and health crises. But disabled artists are resilient and vibrant, and we forge new paths anyway, creating wonderful art in the face of extreme inaccessibility and ableism, and hiding it all the while, for fear that advocating for our needs might be labelled “diva behavior.” But no matter how the industry seems to want to divide us, we’re not alone. When roughly 1.3 billion people globally experience significant disability, how can anyone expect that disabled folks aren’t in every art form, in every space, and on stages around the world?
