When Art Becomes Toxic: How Our Story Brings Light to Dark Places in Creative Spaces
- Dr. Angelica McCarthy
- Jul 28
- 11 min read
Dear Creative Community,
For weeks, I've wrestled with how to share this story. Not because I doubted its importance, but because I wanted to honor both the pain and the purpose it revealed. This is a story about grounded faith in practice during turbulent times—about what happens when art becomes toxic, and how staying present can transform even our most difficult creative experiences into light for others walking similar paths.
I'm approaching this with careful attention to what I witnessed and experienced, trusting my intuition while remaining true to what I know to be right. These words come from a place of love and compassion, but my spiritual practice has also taught me when we must name difficult truths.
What I experienced was not healthy. It was not good. Behind the creative work that appeared legitimate on the surface, there was a pattern of volatility and manipulation that can cause real emotional harm—especially to those who don't recognize these dynamics or know how to protect themselves when they encounter them.
I share this story hoping it might serve as both a warning and encouragement for others who find themselves in similar situations.
When Art Becomes Toxic
In spring 2025, my husband Joe and I joined what we thought would be an exciting creative collaboration—an immersive residency in Oakland, California. Joe was brought on as Musical Director, Band Leader, and drummer, and was also tasked with facilitating the music arrangements for the production. I joined as Company Manager and Assistant to the Director. We entered the experience ready to bring our gifts to what was to be months of creative exploration and performance, with potential for growth.
Within days upon our arrival in Oakland, the atmosphere began to shift. The Executive Producer/Director/Co-creator—one person wearing all these hats, whom I'll call "EP"—began operating from a place of scarcity and control that poisoned the creative well. "There's not enough time, there's not enough money," became a constant refrain, creating an environment of perpetual crisis, chaos, and blame rather than creative possibility.
What started as collaboration quickly became something else entirely. The EP would publicly question why he was "spending so much money" on cast members and creative collaborators who weren't performing exactly as he envisioned. Creative suggestions were met with frustration and anger. Trust became a one-way street—the EP demanded complete faith from the cast, creative team, and the venue while withholding creative trust in return. The cast and creative team found themselves doing promotional work without additional compensation, lured by dangled promises of future opportunities that revealed the EP's perceived power over their careers.
The manipulation was subtle at first, then increasingly overt. But here's what I witnessed beyond what was being shown in those rehearsal rooms: there was a volatility behind the scenes that created emotional harm, especially for those who didn't have the tools to cope and navigate. Lies were told to get people to comply. Public humiliation in the rehearsal room became a tool for control. Gas lighting to get his way. Lying to pull the wool over people's eyes for them to feel confident and comfortable, only for his actions to continue speaking the opposite. The sacred act of creation was being weaponized.
The Weight of Leadership and My Response to Toxicity
I recognize the immense pressure of creating a show from scratch while working with a venue that has limited resources. These are real challenges that would test any leader. However, pressure doesn't justify how people are treated, and I've seen leaders navigate similar difficulties in ways that build up collaborators rather than tear them down.
When leadership fails under that pressure, the weight doesn't just crush the leader—it cascades down to everyone they're meant to guide. Artists find themselves trapped between their commitment to their craft, their survival in the arts, and their need for dignity. In creative industries, this becomes particularly deceptive because people's dreams are leveraged against their well-being.
How I Chose to Respond
As Company Manager, I felt responsible for observing not just the environment, but how I was absorbing and responding to the escalating toxicity. While Joe naturally stepped up and stood up for himself and others when the EP crossed lines, I found myself freezing—but it wasn't passive paralysis. In those frozen moments, I was trying to stay grounded in my faith, discerning between healthy caution and fear that might paralyze me from acting when action was needed.
This became spiritual work—staying present to God's voice in a toxic environment, learning to discern His guidance even when chaos surrounded us. I had to trust my intuition about when to act and when to observe, when to speak and when to remain silent.
When I did choose to act, I approached the EP privately, never wanting to embarrass or challenge him publicly. I would speak with him personally, hoping to help him see a different perspective on how he was treating others and the decisions he was making—trying to offer insight into how his disrespectful and demeaning behavior was affecting people. These conversations came from a place of genuine care, hoping he might recognize the harm he was causing.
As the days progressed and the EP's behavior escalated, I focused on protecting my peace and staying grounded so I could best navigate his volatility. As he continued to publicly question why he was "spending so much money" on people who weren't performing exactly as he wanted or believed they should, you saw the energy deflate in the room. You saw the creative spark diminish in real-time, making people feel flustered, not as present, which then in turn would make the EP more frustrated. I witnessed creative suggestions met with anger and frustration, meanwhile, he still had not truly communicated what that vision of the show was to begin with. You start to realize that the overall creative environment is not good, when the creative team and cast are in creative flow and can get more done when the EP is not present in the room vs. when he was. Each incident, each moment required a choice from me: How do I respond? How do I maintain my integrity and inner stability while fulfilling my role in this increasingly chaotic environment?
The Moment I Knew It Was Time to Leave
After two weeks of watching toxicity spread through our creative community, Joe reached his breaking point. When he spoke up—not just for himself, but for everyone's dignity in that room—his termination by the EP was swift. In that moment, watching someone I love and respect get fired for standing up for basic human decency, I knew with absolute clarity that we could not remain.
This wasn't about loyalty to Joe, though I deeply admired his courage. This was about recognizing that the environment had become so toxic that authentic art could no longer flourish there. The sacred act of creation was being weaponized, and I refused to be complicit in that harm.
Walking away meant leaving behind what we thought would be months of creative collaboration. It meant financial uncertainty and the grief of seeing a project we'd believed in become something harmful. But it also meant honoring the values that guide my work as a healthcare provider in the arts—refusing to accept toxic environments as "just the way things are" and instead modeling what healthy creative boundaries look like.
As we left, I felt fire ignite in my soul. First came grief for what we'd witnessed and for our genuine intention to support the EP's creative vision. But ultimately, this experience crystallized exactly why I do what I do: to shine light into dark spaces, bringing awareness and healing to creatives so they can heal the world through their sacred work.
Speaking Truth with Love
Immediately upon our departure, I was deeply compelled to send these words to the cast, not hoping for a response, but simply to stand up for ourselves in how our exit transpired at the wrongdoing of the EP and to plant a seed—to remind us all of the power of art and the truth of community connection and healing that we can provide not only to ourselves as artists and creatives, but to the world as a whole. I also share these words with you:
"Dear Cast, with respect...
Dearest Cast,
I hope this email finds you well. I'm writing from a place of love and clarity from Joe and I's voice regarding the events that transpired on Friday. Joe and I did not intend to depart the rehearsal space in the way that we did, and we sincerely apologize for any confusion or discomfort that may have caused.
That said, we also feel it's important to address the energy in the room over the past few days and stand up for our values, for ourselves, and for the kind of creative environment we all deserve.
As someone who has dedicated many years to advocating for health and wellness in the performing arts, I've worked and currently work hard to cultivate and nurture safe, inclusive spaces where artists can thrive. Every individual—regardless of background, experience, or personal challenges—deserves to be treated with grace, respect, and understanding, no matter their hierarchical status, especially in a collaborative artistic process.
What you witnessed in Joe's speaking up was a moment of courage: him standing up for those values. By walking with him, I was honoring not only his truth, but my own and our shared belief in integrity and compassion within the creative space.
Art is sacred. It was never meant to be transactional. Its true power lies in the people, the community, and the intention behind the work. No budget, deadline, or ego should take precedence over the well-being of those creating it.
Well-being, even in the arts, means not having to sacrifice your emotional, physical, mental or spiritual safety for the sake of performance, opportunity, approval, financial security, or tradition.
Never forget, you are worthy and your creativity is sacred. Let it be guided by joy, grounded in safety, and aligned with your authentic truth.
With gratitude,
Angelica and Joe McCarthy"
The Ripple Effect of Harm
The harm extended far beyond that single moment in the rehearsal room. What followed was a cascade of toxicity that affected every person involved—cast members, musicians, venue staff, and community partners all became casualties of leadership that treated people as disposable assets rather than sacred collaborators. For Joe and me, the impact was total: spiritually questioning our calling, emotionally cycling through anger and uncertainty, mentally struggling to process the reality of what was happening, physically manifesting stress in sleepless nights, and financially suffering from wrongful termination and unpaid compensation for the time we put into the production that continues to this day.
This type of behavior is not foreign to the arts, and that reality is deeply disheartening. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in Strength to Love, “Wealth always comes as a result of the commonwealth. When an individual or nation overlooks this interdependence, we find ourselves on a track of foolishness.” Creative work is inherently collaborative—it requires the talents, hearts, and spirits of many people working together. When we forget this interdependence, when we prioritize profit over people, we lose the very essence of what makes art transformative.
The Heart of the Matter and the Path Forward
In the aftermath, as I sought to understand what had happened, Luke 12:34 (NLT) became a lens for clarity, “Wherever your treasure is, there your heart and thoughts will also be.” The EP's heart was clearly aligned with his financial investment rather than the people creating alongside him, reducing each person's worth to the dollar amount being spent on them.
This revelation helped me see something deeper about toxic leadership in creative spaces. When someone demands blind faith from others but cannot offer it in return due to their own stressors, insecurities, ego, and materialism, it creates a breeding ground for control, miscommunication, and manipulation. The moment the phrase "respect is earned, not given" was written by the EP in response to the email I sent solely to the cast, I knew with certainty that he was not the person we were supposed to be creating with and that God's timing of our removal was right on time.
But here's what I've known and am reminded of: dignity and respect are foundational principles of our humanity—they are not commodities to be earned through performance or compliance. They are the baseline from which we should treat every person from the moment we meet them. Not long after reflecting on this thought, a devotional by Sarah Jakes Roberts, FAST FWD | Day 24: A Woman’s Worth came across my inbox and reminded me, “When respect stops being served, it's time to walk away from that table.”
Walking away isn't always easy, especially when our livelihoods are at stake. But what shall it profit a person if they gain the whole world of things external — sold-out ticket sales, “success”, material possessions, popularity, financial gain — and lose the internal, their own soul?
"Our hope for creative living lies in our ability to reestablish the spiritual ends of our lives in personal character and social justice." ~ Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love
The solution is beautifully simple, even if it's not always easy to implement: values-based intentions, actions, and words. When we ground ourselves in our faith and allow our values to guide our decisions, we create space for authentic creativity to flourish. This is how we heal artists to heal communities—by refusing to accept toxic behavior and environments as "just the way things are" and instead modeling what healthy creative collaboration looks like.
I share our experience to confront the root cause, to speak power to truth with love, compassion, grace, steadfast conviction, and honesty—to let our experience be an example of how we are not supposed to go about creating art in this world. The arts are meant to heal our communities, and if we create arts environments at their core that harm, we are spreading that injustice to our audiences and communities. That is not what God intended for our own well-being, let alone the well-being of all people.
What I Learned: Red Flags in Creative Leadership
Through this painful experience, here are some recognized warning signs that can help protect our creative community from similar harm. Be cautious of leaders who:
Measure human worth by budget contributions rather than inherent value and artistic gifts
Do not treat you or others with dignity and respect as a baseline human right
Demand blind faith from others while being unable to offer trust in return due to their own insecurities
Create unrealistic timelines and expectations then blame others when the impossible becomes, well, impossible
Use financial pressure as a manipulation tool to excuse poor treatment of all people
Flee from accountability when confronted with their behavior's impact on others
Consistently create narratives where they're the victim rather than taking responsibility for their leadership choices
These patterns can often stem from unaddressed trauma, ego, or a transactional view of art that prioritizes profit over people.
The Four R’s Practice: Learning from Difficult Experiences
Reflect (Awareness): Are there any difficult experiences that come to mind that resonate with this story? Take time to reflect on a challenging experience that has affected you or the creative environment you've worked in. Notice what emotions arise without judgment.
Refresh (Alignment): What did you do to align your habits and practices to support your well-being during that experience? If you didn't have supportive habits or practices in place, how did you find yourself showing up in that environment? What would you do differently now?
Refocus (Action): Remember Sarah Jakes Roberts' words: "When respect stops being served, it's time to walk away from that table." How did you choose to move forward? How did you rewrite your priorities and set boundaries? What one step can you take today to honor your worth and protect your creative well-being?
Release (Acceptance): What needs to be released to God from your experience? What space can you create to let Him in and help guide your steps? This is the true acceptance and belief in surrender—to let Go and let God, trusting that He will provide and protect as you move forward authentically.
Remember This
This is not just our story—it's a reminder that we must vigilantly protect the sacred nature of creative collaboration. We are called to create environments where artists can flourish, where dignity is never negotiable, and where the transformative power of art can truly heal our world.
Walking through this experience has deepened my commitment to that calling. If you're navigating a difficult creative environment, please know you're not alone. I've witnessed firsthand how God provides and protects—He removed us from harm's way before greater damage could be done (and greater damage was done to others), and He used even this painful experience to remind us of our worth, our values, and our calling to create spaces of wholeness and healing.
Your creativity is sacred. Your dignity is non-negotiable. Your well-being matters—not just for you, but for all the communities you'll touch through your art. Keep creating from a place of wholeness.
The world needs the healing only you can bring.
Sending you Love and Light,
Angelica McCarthy
Share this blog your creative community and let's grow together!
Connect with me:
Email: angelicadmccarthy@gmail.com
Website: angelicamccarthy.com
Instagram: @dr_amccarthy
LinkedIn/Facebook: Angelica Davison McCarthy
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