An Open Letter to Arts & Culture Leaders and Supporters: Now is the Time to Act

I work for a mid-sized community arts organization in Richmond, Virginia. On Monday of last week we were preparing for a busy season of community events, art classes, school field trips and workshops. By Tuesday we were convening an emergency board meeting, where we weighed the health and safety risks of COVID-19 against the financial risks of cancelling events. By Wednesday it was clear that the only responsible choice was to cancel all public programming. 

We know this was the right choice. But a week later, we are already in crisis. In an age when too many arts organizations are dependent on private philanthropy, we are proud to be an organization built on 77% earned income. It’s given us the ability to say yes to our community when opportunities arise, and to build programming that is responsive, immediate and flexible. It also means when our community suffers, so do we. Without revenue from events and programs, it will not be easy to keep our doors open.

We have spent the past week searching for emergency resources available to our field. To our dismay, there are few. We have watched eagerly for reassurance from our federal government: arts organizations play a critical role in building and sustaining healthy communities, and they generate significant economic impact—more than $8 million annually in the Richmond area alone. Yet we know that unlike Wall Street, our industry will not get bailed out.  

History helps us see what will likely happen next. Dudley Cocke, co-founder of Appalshop’s Roadside Theater, argues budget cuts made to the National Endowment for the Arts in 1997 still reverberate through community-based arts and cultural organizations to this day. In a compelling article called “The Unreported Arts Recession of 1997,” he explains: 

“The constant pressure of mounting community problems combined with the threat of insolvency has pushed our organizations into separate corners. Competition for funds superseded cooperation, and the shared critical discourse, which the field had relied upon to build and sharpen itself, had broken. In turn, ethical and artistic standards had been compromised as a whole. The results of this downward spiral resembled the aftermath of a classic case of divide and conquer.”

I refer to this mentality as the “prepper” mindset. A doomsday prepper is a person who believes that a disaster could occur at any moment and makes ongoing active preparations for it, typically by stockpiling resources and shutting out the outside world. Many of the organizations who survived the 1997 arts recession did so by scaling back their programming, dividing their institutions into discrete program areas, laying off non-primary staff and distributing workloads amongst fewer individuals. The result of these cutbacks was a reduction in creative risk-taking and innovation, in favor of tried-and-true programs and methodologies. In a field driven by  envisioning new possibilities, this reactionary turn has done lasting damage. Artists have been starved of the resources they need to take risks, challenge established assumptions, and create new ideas and forms with the power to transform personal, social and structural realities. 

The “prepper” mindset is persistent and challenging to unlearn. I’ve worked at fiscally healthy organizations who––two decades after the NEA cuts––were still stuck in deficit-based thinking. Such thinking weakens partnerships, divides like-minded initiatives, and reverberates into the communities our organizations aim to enrich.  

We now stand on the cusp of another arts recession. The decisions we make today will be felt in our communities for several generations to come. Regardless of the trajectory of COVID-19, its impact on our nation is already evident. Without immediate and decisive intervention, our rural communities and smaller cities will be left without a crucial resource for building their future. And we certainly cannot leave the state of our field to the whims of an administration who regularly proposes federal divestment from the arts. 

We must respond to this moment in at least three ways. First, we must use our creativity to imagine new ways to strengthen and support our communities. My colleague Ben Fink has proposed one exciting possibility, based on his work with the Letcher County Culture Hub in Kentucky: build a partnership fund that community-led organizations (including arts and cultural centers) can use “toward projects that build the community’s strength -- including the ability to take care of each other during a crisis.” 

Second, we must help the organizations and individuals who are working at the community level, which means securing significant and proactive investment from a wide range of foundations and socially-responsible corporations, as well as support from our neighbors. And the time to start these initiatives is now, while our community-based arts and cultural organizations still have the chance to survive.

 Finally, surviving and thriving in the wake of this crisis will require renewed and sustained federal investment. Now is the moment for our government to change course and reject the failed policies that led to the arts recession of 1997 and the “prepper” mindset. As the people of this country reassess so much of our lives, it is time to reaffirm that the work of the people must be supported by the money of the people. It’s just as John F. Kennedy said, less than a month before he died: 

“If sometimes our great artists have been the most critical of our society, it is because their sensitivity and their concern for justice, which must motivate any true artist, make them aware that our nation falls short of its highest potential.

 I see little of more importance to the future of our country and our civilization than full recognition of the place of the artist. If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him. We must never forget that art is not a form of propaganda; it is a form of truth.”

Let this be our call to action. Let us join together now to protect one of our most precious resources -- our creativity -- before it is too late.

- Kate Fowler, Development Director, Studio Two Three