A Season of Giving

A few weeks ago my daughter, out of the blue, said “You know Dad, Vermont is a really great place to grow up. I’m glad we live here.”

I was curious as to what prompted this unsolicited comment from a 16-year-old girl whose current mode of communication is primarily a variety of cold-shoulder shrugs and eye-rolls. “I mean,” she went on, “I’m fully expecting to leave the state for college and probably for a while after that, but I can’t imagine a better place to have been raised.”  

Her three older brothers are all in the process of applying to college. It has been a roller-coaster ride of standardized testing, last-minute forays onto the “common app,” frightening conversations with financial aid professionals, and anguished pleadings with teachers. My daughter has quietly watched these proceedings with little or no comment. But I can tell it has given her a real-world perspective on what lies ahead for her when it’s her turn to leap into the vast, unknown arena called college.

I have the joy of doing a lot of travelling around the state, and while I am most familiar with Montpelier and the surrounding Central Vermont area, I can attest that there are many communities all over Vermont that share the same qualities and characteristics that have embraced my family—particularly my children.

Anyone reading this blog can imagine for him or herself what makes Vermont a special place. It’s probably the combination of ready access to the great outdoors, the opportunity to discover where your healthy food actually comes from, the joy of encountering creative people from all walks of life on a daily basis, and boasting rights for “hosting” Ben & Jerry’s as well as Heady Topper. The list is endless.

For me it comes down to what matters for the children. Not just MY children. All children.

And here’s the rub…even in Vermont, with all its beauty and access to wealth and food, an extraordinary number of children are going to bed hungry, waking up hungry, and wearing triple hand-me-downs that no longer keep out the cold. They are unable to keep up with their homework, unable to stay late at school for band or chorus or soccer practice because their parents have no way to get them home except by the bus that leaves at 3 pm.

I had the privilege of participating in the Governor’s Early Childhood Summit in mid-October. It was eye-opening. Depending on the issue, anywhere from 20% to 40% of Vermont schoolchildren are suffering from the lack of SOMETHING—food, transportation, parents with parenting skills, after-school activities, counseling, creative play, joy, inspiration. Art.

At one point during the Summit, the 200 attendees broke up into groups. We were asked to share who we are and what we bring to the summit. Listening to the 30 or so people in my group describe their jobs (teacher, counselor, health-care provider, truant officer, program administrator) and what they need in order to provide a barely adequate amount of service to kids in real need, I realized how truly blessed my family is.

When it came to my turn, all I could do was quote Antoine Saint-Exupery. “If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”  I suggested that the arts field is always available to help people explore their dreams and aspirations. It is not enough simply to provide a prescription or sessions with a counselor or a probation officer. We have to find a way to inject a sense of wonder, excitement, and curiosity in our young people. If we fail at that, they will never learn, never discover themselves, never live up to their innate potential.

My children are lucky. They have grown up in a community that offers the Adamant Quarry Works theater in which they performed as 9- and 10-year olds (friends performed with Lost Nation Theater, let’s not forget them!). They also had the privilege and luck to grow up in a community that valued chorus and band as much as soccer and field hockey; where the fall musical is as well-attended as the boys’ basketball playoff; and where the community cinches its collective belt a little tighter each year to make sure that the school budget -- the annual investment we make in our kids -- gets passed at Town Meeting Day. But each year the vote is closer, the money tighter, the number in need slightly larger, the news more sobering.

Somehow we have to refocus our attention away from systems that only reward individual achievement and towards activities and people that serve the public good. Vermont’s non-profit sector embraces education, medicine, social services, the arts, and much, much more. As a whole it is THIS sector that makes Vermont truly stand apart from other states.

I submit it is Vermont’s nonprofits—all of them—working diligently, collaboratively, and effectively to improve everyone’s quality of life that makes my daughter want to live here. In the context of its nonprofit sector it actually is possible to imagine a Vermont in which no child is left behind.

In the spirit of the season, then, I encourage you to be generous with your tax-deductible contributions. Together, we can continue to move Vermont forward; investing in our kids and in our future.

Happy Holidays! 

A Study in Contrasts

As part of my ongoing travels throughout the State, I frequently witness startling contrasts.  Most have to do with views or weather. After all, this is Vermont, and we have plenty of varieties of both.

But my recent travels have brought me into contact with two communities, in very different parts of the State, each of which are remarkable in terms of what they offer from a cultural perspective (or don’t), and more importantly, how they view the role of art and culture in their community’s future.

The first community, which I shall call “A,” has for years suffered from the manufacturing flight of the past couple of generations.  Hundreds of thousands of square feet of former factory/mill real estate has lain empty for a long time, and several attempts to “bootstrap” an economy have met largely with mediocre (if that!) success.  Community “A” has not, however given up.  In the past few years they have converted some of the space into a community health center, and looked at what other communities have done that have resulted in new public/private investment.

It seems to be working.  Last week I attended a public opening at a new (re)development in the heart of the downtown, and it was clear to me that the town and the developer of the property had their priorities squarely in the right place.  As Mayor Richard Riley of Charleston SC famously said, “If you want to build public value in a community, give the best parts of the community to the public!”  This community, this developer took the centerpiece of the property and turned it into an open gallery/community use space, taking advantage of the nearly perfect lighting that the clerestory windows drew from outside.  They had invested time and energy into selecting works of art that both captivated the viewer and reflected back the town’s new-found energy and commitment to its future.

Community A still has a long way to go.  But they now have a significant cultural entity with which to draw visitors, to attract workers and their families, to attract entrepreneurs, and to attract additional investment.  The positive energy was palpable, and the community’s sense of pride and achievement is well-deserved.  [And I should also add, the next town over also recently installed a new art center so now each community can build on the strengths of the other as they look to bring people into Vermont!]

Contrast this with my encounter in community “B.”  This town has a storied history, wonderful cultural entities who have been serving as the primary draw for visitors and residents for well over a century.  Their cultural assets include several buildings (museum, library, performing arts facility, and theater), and a school with a strong national reputation for educating well-rounded, culturally aware students.  There is a thriving population of artists and craftspeople whose work is visible in many locations throughout the community and whose combined interests support multiple arts and community festivals etc.

The difference between community A and B is the level of engagement by their respective elected or appointed community leaders.  Community A’s leaders, especially the business leaders, are totally behind the new efforts to establish use this new arts facility as a calling card, a beacon of light to attract new life-blood to the community.  Community B’s leaders seem content to quietly ignore the considerable cultural assets in their midst.  On a recent trip there I stopped by community B’s visitor center, having previously attended many meetings there to discuss how to kick-start their “creative economy,” only to find that the visitor’s center had been moved at least three miles out of town, past “the strip” and its large contingency of car dealerships, fast food restaurants, and mall shops.

What visitor to community B is going to want to find his/her way three miles out of town and then turn back again?

The point here is simply one of perception.  Community A perceives this new art venue as a draw, as a catalyst that will help turn their town around psychologically and, eventually, economically.  People in community A have committed themselves to the arts, and placed one of the most valuable new pieces of real estate in the hands of curators and artists to carry their community spirit forward.

Community B perceives the arts as something very different.  Perhaps the community leaders have grown up with these incredible assets and their stately familiarity is simply not something they see much value in.  Lucky for community B, the people who manage, who perform in, who visit, or otherwise attend these cultural entities are loyal and committed to the work that is presented.  They carry on despite their local community’s leaders’ apparent neglect.

This is a pity.  Community B will have a much more difficult time, despite its significant cultural advantages, in attracting new audiences, new visitors, new investment, and new blood than community A. 

It’s an interesting contrast.

Vermont: The State of the Arts, 2012

[This post first appeared in the Burlington (VT) Free Press, January 1, 2012]

 I am frequently asked, what is the current state of the arts?  My response? 

Vermont.

Vermont is the State of the Arts.

2010 Census figures are not available, but based on 2000 data, Vermont is first in writers, seventh in visual artists, and fifth overall in the per-capita ratio of artists-to-citizens out of all 50 states.  I believe, however, that visual artists are extremely under-reported in Vermont, and that once the 2010 data is out we will find ourselves ranked first overall. 

From communities as diverse as Brattleboro, White River Junction, Island Pond, Rutland, Bennington, and the greater Burlington area, Vermont’s artists leave an indelible impression on citizens and visitors alike.  We are a creative state whose character is hewn as much from the keyboard and the brush as it is from the soil and the forest.  For most Vermont artists, the natural landscape informs their creative core (corps?).  For others, Vermont’s independent streak inspires provocation and even outrage, as certainly art should from time to time. The critical note, here, is that of all states I have heard about, Vermont artists describe themselves exactly this way:  “I’m a Vermont artist”—using Vermont as an adjective to encompass the depth and variety that very name conjures in the imagination. No other artist from any other state does this, to my knowledge…at least not with the same degree of commitment.

Arts institutions in Vermont—the “healthy” ones—are nimble, have strong community support, and make the most of digital media and social networking tools to reach out well beyond our border.  Virtually all who regularly apply to the Council for funding fulfill the “artistic excellence” requirement with ease. Grants, therefore, tend to be awarded based organizational capacity and the value and impact that their activities have in/on their communities, not on the past record of accomplishment; a subtle but important difference.  If nothing else, it indicates a sector that is fully mature, with very high standards, and aware of its important role in bringing quality programs and services to the public.

From the consumer’s perspective, therefore, the arts in Vermont are thriving.  There are many arts events to choose from, not just on the weekends, but on any day of the week.  And with very few exceptions, they are all of really high caliber. A glance through any community newspaper will prove the point.

The view is very different, however, from the creative/producing end.

Whether the root cause is the economy, donor fatigue from massive weather cataclysms, or the increasingly vocal, but very ill-informed, national movement to remove all so-called “nonessential government services,” the issue for all is survival.  The Kennedy Center’s Michael Kaiser believes that the key to survival lies in the diversity and excellence of programming coupled with an ever-expanding commitment to marketing and promotion.

Therein lies the rub. Arts organizations are mission driven.  If there is an extra dollar left over at the end of the year, the mission mandates that it be spent on programming.  The result is that Kaiser’s advice to focus on diverse, excellent, new programming with an emphasis on marketing is difficult to sell to trustees and audiences.

What the sector really needs are tools for analyzing the impacts of artistic activity on education, community economic development, and social services.  With the Pew Trust’s Cultural Data Project just getting started here in Vermont, and the new fields of “Social Impact Analysis” and “Brain-based Learning” coming into their own, we will soon provide policy analysts and state/local officials with much better information about why they should be advocating for significantly more resources to be spent on supporting and promoting the sector. 

Artists and arts organizations are generally pretty capable at corralling what they need to put on a show.  What they are less good at is reaching audiences in Boston, New York, Montreal, Albany, and the Berkshires (!) to let them know what is available less than a half-day’s drive away.  This is where the state’s interests and the arts sector’s interests are currently most in alignment and where immediate returns are already beginning to be found. (There are many others, but this is the lowest of the “low-hanging fruits.”)

Vermont’s arts sector is, from an economic policy perspective, one of its last great un(der)-tapped resources.  With the right kind of collaborative, strategic and socially-integrated investment, the arts sector could easily thrive and become integral to Vermont’s economic vitality, not just a pleasant, icing-on-the-cake afterthought.

March Madness

In mid-July, 1964 a 40-year-old Jim Oakes (who would later be appointed to the Second Circuit Court of Federal Appeals) was a New England organizer for the Rockefeller presidential campaign.  As a delegate to the 1964 Republican Convention he was one of many “socially liberal” Republicans who believed in the Republican Party’s historic stands on equality, social justice, and minimal government interference in the lives of its private citizens even while advocating for fiscal responsibility.

 The 1964 Republican Convention was no picnic—despite its being held in San Francisco’s rustic-sounding Cow Palace.  It is generally accepted that it served as the coming-out party for a new kind of political conservatism, one that would eventually appear to abandon most, if not all, of the lofty ideals that first imbued the party of Abe Lincoln.

Judge Oakes described to me what happened to him at the conclusion of Barry Goldwater’s acceptance speech that warm July 16th in San Francisco.

“I had to leave the room—that huge room with its thousands of young Goldwater Republicans roaring their approval for the turn to the right the party had just taken.  I just couldn’t believe it.  I walked out into the vestibule at the Cow Palace and stood leaning on the rail overlooking the lobby.  After a moment, I became aware of a well-dressed black man, about my age, who was clearly as upset as I was.  I asked him what he thought of Goldwater’s speech.  He replied ‘my party has abandoned me.  It has abandoned my people.’

“I introduced myself to him.  He was Jackie Robinson.”

Goldwater lost that election and it would be 16 years before the Conservative Revolution inside the GOP would succeed in finally elevating one of its own, Ronald Reagan, to the White House.  And it would be another 16 years after Reagan’s election that neo-conservative political values would touch my profession—the cultural sector—with devastating results.

In the mid-1990s the first campaign of the so-called Culture Wars ended, and the Arts and Humanities were its first major casualties.  A significant budget reduction at the Federal level in 1996 placed on the states the extraordinary burden of carrying forward the valuable work of the tiny Federal agencies charged with supporting the cultural legacy of America’s vast creative output.  What was at the time considered a near “death blow” reduction of 40% to the National Endowment for the Arts was a significant step in the neo-conservative effort to reshape American culture.

Today (nearly 16 years later again) we find ourselves in the middle of another attack on our cultural support system.  Not only is it the clear intent of the conservative Right to deal crippling, if not fatal, blows to the NEA and its sister agencies (the Humanities Endowment and Institute for Museum and Library Services), but also to National Public Radio, National Public Television, and to the “Nation’s Attic”—the venerable Smithsonian Institution.

This time round, however, these attacks from the Right are no longer confined to our Federal institutions.  At least a half a dozen states have been trying to cope with similar efforts to disband their public cultural institutions under the guise of “balancing the budget.” For many of us, this effort has resulted in a whole new definition of “March Madness.”

While basketball fans everywhere are savoring (or cursing) the sweet runs of Butler and Virginia Commonwealth University, folks in New Hampshire, South Carolina, Kansas, Nevada, Washington and elsewhere are realizing that a cultural March Madness has gripped their State Houses or Governor’s Mansions.

Despite reams of data showing the positive effects of participating in/studying the arts at school;

Despite hundreds of independent studies showing the significant state and local revenues generated by the arts sector;

Despite literally thousands of independent sources clearly providing credible anecdotal evidence that the arts create and sustain community life; and

Despite the easy-to-verify fact that in most states the total budget for all things “cultural” (Arts, Humanities, Historical Societies, Libraries, etc.) are a tiny fraction of 1% of a state’s General Fund,

NEVERTHELESS, arts and culture are the unequivocal “first thing to go” in our schools and in our state house corridors.  It is only a small comfort to know that Vermont is, for now, one of only a handful of exceptions to this trend.

Last week, while New Hampshire headlines were blaring the late-night, closed-door House vote to disallow collective bargaining by state employees, an equally insidious bill succeeded in passing in the House Finance Committee (20-6) to eliminate the New Hampshire Council on the Arts.

Yesterday the paper reported that of the more than 5 million people who filled out their NCAA brackets, only TWO predicted that the final four would include Butler and VCU and not include a single #1 seed.  Two people are happy today, while all the rest tear out their hair and tear up their brackets.

Is the same thing going to happen in the arts?  Is the conservative Right going to wake up tomorrow happy while millions of Americans from all walks of life will wake up to the despair that results from no longer being able to access the arts and humanities?

Sure, the comparison here is a little bit false. With respect to the NCAA tournament, two people are happy now, but in a few more days, a new basketball champion will be crowned and everyone else on college campuses and communities across America will get back to business as usual. 

I only wish I could assure the arts sector (and everyone else, for that matter) of a similar outcome.  

What gives a community its Vitality?

A couple of weeks ago a former trustee paid me a visit. He told me a story about how he recently took some heat in his community for remarks he made about how important the not-for-profit cultural organizations were to the economic health and vitality of his town.

I don't have access to the full story and its reportage, but it sounded like quite a few people took offense at his suggestion that the cultural institutions in his town were what drew people to visit, live, work, and raise families there. (What about the restaurants, the bookstore, the artist collaborative?, they cried. What about the grocery stores, the car dealership, and the movie theater? What about the hiking, biking, and fishing that was conveniently located within minutes of the downtown? What about the people, the finely built homes, the attractive downtown?)

How DARE he (my former trustee) suggest it was the cultural institutions that were responsible for the town's economic identity?

What is interesting to me about this story is that when one talks about a Vermont town or village, one can be pretty sure that all of them share many of the same characteristics. Shops, grocery stores, and easy access to outdoor recreation are common to virtually every town or village center in Vermont.

But I'm pretty sure that what my former trustee was talking about was not those fairly common characteristics, but those characteristics about his town that were UNcommon. It's very easy to imagine any town with a grocery store, a book store (although a good independent bookstore is a rare treasure these days) and even an eatery of some kind or other.

Burlington is not unique because it has just any performing arts center or thriving visual arts scene. It is unique because it has the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts, it has the Firehouse Gallery, and it has the South End, North End, and all-around-the-town artists scene (yes, including the colleges and University) that, whether the Art Hop or the Jazz Fest or some other type of cultural activity, gives Burlington its unique character. That it is the queen city on the lake is a bonus, but again--of all the towns that share that characteristic (being on a lake), none except for Burlington, is Burlington. If you don't believe me, ask yourself, when was the last time you visited Plattsburgh? Will you be going back any time soon?

The same is true for Bennington, St. Johnsbury, Brattleboro, Weston, St. Albans, Montpelier, Randolph, Bellows Falls, Vergennes, Brandon and many many more. Plenty of towns have good schools, a great library, a museum, a performing arts center, a great artist coop, some good restaurants, a good bookstore. But only Bennington has the Bennington College, Bennington Museum, the Oldcastle Theater, the Artists' Guild, and (slightly north) the Vermont Arts Exchange as well as good restaurants, stores, etc. Only St. Johnsbury has the Athenaeum, the Fairbanks Museum, Catamount Arts, and the St. J Academy (and a great artists coop, bookstore, and a few restaurants). Only Brattleboro...oh heck, you get the picture.

All of these towns are unique (and thus attractive to visitors, new businesses, relocators, etc.) largely because of the cultural institutions they play host to.

I felt badly for my former trustee. He fell victim to what I now call the "me too" syndrome that afflicts everyone in times of economic crisis. No one's livelihood is inconsequential to the life and vitality of a town. So when someone dares to suggest that what makes a town unique and attractive to investment (whether of marketing dollars or business incentives) doesn't include you and your work, you tend to get defensive. (What about me? I'm important. My work matters.)

But too much "me too" results in the fabric of our communities becoming frayed and the institutions that define their cultural legacies reduced, ultimately, to rubble.

We can't let that happen. Not in Vermont.

Bring on the “Bad Years,” Rutland!

Bruce Bouchard at Rutland’s Paramount Theater is onto something big and important.

Recognizing that Vermont audiences in the summer are too often saturated with an extraordinary outpouring of high-quality art, both visual and performing (including film!), from Mozart Festivals to Balloon Festivals, to Folk Festivals, to Open Studios and Gallery Walks, and even farmers’ markets that showcase local talent, Mr. Bouchard has initiated a whole new project aimed at developing new audiences and bringing the Paramount into the center of Rutland’s ongoing renaissance.

He wants to make Rutland, and in particular the Paramount, a “destination for the development of new American Musicals.” His first project is "Tales from the Bad Years" from Larson Award-winners Kait Kerrigan and Brian Lowdermilk and stars several tried-and-true Broadway pros.

This effort is important for a lot of reasons.

First, it is an important first step in taking advantage of Rutland’s unique position as Vermont’s “New York City/AMTRAK Gateway.”

Second, it provides a relatively inexpensive place to work out the kinks of a new musical theater experience before it reaches the fabled footlights of forty-second street and New York's highly critical reviewers.

Third, it establishes Rutland as a place where audiences will come from all over to see new works in development which means they are either producers looking for the next “hot” cultural property, or they are sophisticated cultural tourists looking for a great place to experience great art before anyone else.

Fourth, it’s a seriously big feather in Rutland’s cap. Imagine a Broadway playbill two years from now—“having been significantly revised during its run at the Paramount Theater in Rutland Vermont back in 2008, "Tales from the Bad Years" tells the gripping story of …..”

From such small sentence fragments come big dreams. Rutland’s dreams.

It’s a shame that Bruce Bouchard wasn’t around 30 years ago to place this project at the Paramount back in the 70s. But, as we all know, getting into this game late is far better than never getting into it at all. Just imagine what Rutland could be like 30 years from now if this program works as Mr. Bouchard intends it to.

If any one reading this has time, head to Rutland on the 21st and 22nd. You’ll be in on the ground floor of something really important, I promise.

GETTING CONTROVERSIAL

If this were a normal week, I would be guiding you towards the highlights of our April 16th Arts Achievement Day celebration in the Vermont State House. But, like many people across the country, every year around tax time I get anxious about money, and April 16th is just one day past the dreaded “Ides of April.”

About seven years ago I read an op-ed piece in the New York Times by Thomas Friedman that instructed us, every time we read the word “tax” followed by the word “cut” emanating from the Bush Administration, to substitute the word “service” for the word “tax.”

A couple of weeks ago the Brookings Institution—a so-called “left-leaning” think tank based in Washington DC—published an article on the implications of the Bush II Tax Cut legacy.

Reading this article made me understand better why there is no money in the state of Vermont. The burden of paying for everything we depend on our government for has fallen almost exclusively on the shoulders of the state. And Vermont, like a few others, doesn’t have a large enough population to support all the programs and services that used to be covered either wholly or in part by the federal government.

The state of Vermont is unable to support the ambitious plans to celebrate the 400th Anniversary of Samuel de Champlain’s arrival on the lake that now bears his name. Funds that could have been used for that purpose have been-or will likely be—diverted to shore up the worst parts of our crumbling transportation, health care, public safety and education infrastructure.

There is nowhere near enough money in the State House to replace funds that no longer come from Washington. Since 2001, as a country we have foregone $1.7 trillion (with another $1.8 trillion if the tax cuts are made permanent) in tax revenue and borrowed heavily to pay for not one but TWO foreign wars at the same time.

Every time I turn around I hear more bad news. As a result, I have come to one inescapable conclusion:

What terrorists could never have accomplished in their wildest dreams by destroying the World Trade Center in 2001, our own government has accomplished in its response to that terrible crime in less than seven years.

Our country is bankrupt, dependent on China to purchase our ever-increasing debt burden in order to stay operational. Manufacturing jobs are gone; and service jobs are next on the chopping block. We live in fear that our innocent calls to our relatives living and working overseas will be tapped and we will be put on some “no travel” list. We have to all but disrobe every time we get on a plane (jackets, belts, shoes, toiletries over 3 oz.—what’s next, dental floss?). We are, in effect, no longer free citizens living in a democratic republic.

You put all this together, and “shock and awe” doesn’t come close to describing how I feel.

For those of you that haven’t had to pay your heating bill lately, or haven’t had to pay for emergency medical services at your local hospital out of pocket; if you haven’t had to buy milk, bread or eggs in the past couple of weeks, or fill your car with gas, you might not necessarily agree with what I’m about to say. But here it is anyway.

Repeal the Tax Cuts. Put that money back into the system. Starving government for the sake of starving government is no way to establish, much less enforce, good public policy.

And next time, pay attention when someone offers you $600 in return for “a better economy.” And pay double attention if they offer you $1200 (plus $300 per kid).

Like I said, every year at this time I get anxious about money. So my advice to me and to you is to get past the 15th, and come to State House on the 16th for Arts Achievement Day. It will restore your hope and faith in the great things we can accomplish together. After all, this is the United States of America. And even better, this is Vermont…

CULTURAL FACILITIES COMES OF AGE

A lot of people had fun last Friday morning. Sixteen organizations receiving Cultural Facilities Program funding sent representatives to our grant awards ceremony in the State House’s Cedar Creek Room. They were met by 11 Arts Council staff, two trustees, the Governor, and more than 20 of their elected state representatives and senators.

It was a party. Or, as is usually the case in the State House, it was a “multi-party.” For about an hour Republicans, Democrats, Independents, and Progressives set aside their differences over health care, property tax reform, transportation funding and other big ticket issues and celebrated the core of Vermont’s Creative Economy—its theaters, concert halls, libraries, historical societies, grange halls, town hall auditoriums, and even a church facility.

Grants totaling more than $200,000 were awarded for physical improvements that will expand facilities’ capacity to support more varied cultural programs and serve broader audiences. For most, grants will be used to improve physical access for people with limited mobility. Thanks to the Governor, however, one grantee will have a special charge.

In his remarks to the recipients, the Governor registered two eye-popping, hand-clapping moments. The first was his suggestion that some of the grants awarded “weren’t exactly sexy” and referred specifically to the Brandon Town Hall’s grant to fund the installation of a state-of-the-art fire suppression system. When the Brandon contingent stood to receive their award they promised (to lots of laughter and applause) the Governor that theirs would be the first ever, state-of-the-art, sexy fire suppression system.

Hardened State House observers, including the WCAX reporter covering the event, assured me that this was the first time ever that the word “sexy” was bandied about so freely in a formal State House ceremony involving so many elected officials. It is further evidence that, in Vermont at least, the “culture wars” of the early 1990s are truly over.

The Governor’s second eye-popping, hand-clapping moment was towards the end of his remarks when, with no prior indication, he took advantage of the moment to express his commitment to the Cultural Facilities program by publicly stating his intention to recommend continuing to fund the program at its $200,000 level in the FY 2009 Capital Appropriations Budget.

To the untrained ear, this may sound like a non-event. The program is already on the books at $200,000 so what’s the big deal? The Governor is recommending status quo, right?

The big deal is that two years ago the Governor’s recommendation was $0; last year it was $50,000. In both years it was the Senate Appropriations committee that led the charge to increase the program to its current $200,000 level (thank you Sen. Phil Scott and Rep. Alice Emmons). With the Governor’s support at the front end of the appropriations process, not only are the late-session, high-tension negotiations between the House and Senate greatly mitigated (if not eliminated), but we are now able to consider ways to expand the program to include non-traditional venues like farmers markets and other municipal spaces where the public gather. Check out H. 185 submitted by Reps. Botzow, Stephens, et. al. regarding farmers markets. It gained some traction last year, but it will get a lot more if it gets attached as an additional funding stream to the Cultural Facilities bill. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, the Cultural Facilities Program came of age last week and sixteen grantees whose programs and activities serve as the glue that keeps Vermont’s communities so vital, were on hand to celebrate. Congratulations one and all!

Welcoming the Creative Economy

A little more than 9 years ago I had the pleasure of representing Vermont at a small conference at the Tanglewood Center for the Performing Arts in Lenox, Massachusetts. The keynote speaker was John Williams (perhaps the most respected and successful composer/arranger/conductors of all time, especially for films) and in the course of his talk he introduced the phrase “creative economy” to me and the 50 or so other attendees from all over New England. Mr. Williams was surprised that at a reception earlier he had overheard a member of the economic development “establishment” in the Massachusetts State House wonder why, despite all indicators elsewhere in the state that showed the Massachusetts economy tanking, Berkshire County seemed immune. “Wasn’t it obvious?” asked Williams. “It’s because the Arts Organizations in Berkshire County have formed the backbone of what I refer to as its Creative Economy.”

Fast forward nine years—past two regional studies conducted by The New England Council (a regional Chamber of Commerce), numerous regional gatherings from Maine to Connecticut, and, in Vermont, thousands of hours of community-based planning meetings held in more than a dozen towns and villages in Vermont alone, not to mention additional work done locally throughout Maine, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts—and the phrase has finally become a movement.

We can thank Paul Costello and the Vermont Council on Rural Development for that. For all the time I and the Vermont Arts Council have invested in promoting the Creative Economy, we couldn’t have done half as good a job as putting it in front of policy makers in Vermont as Paul and the VCRD have done.

On July 18th they will showcase what the Creative Economy really is in a conference entitled “Advancing Vermont’s Creative Economy”. The daylong “summit” at the Vermont State House will celebrate models of community success and explore how Vermont can best understand and adopt policies and programs that not only improve the state’s economic situation, but do so in a way that enhances and protects the quality of life Vermonters have come to value almost above all else.

The Creative Economy is not a Thing—it’s more like a state of mind. It is the set of conditions that must exist in a place in order for there to be a thriving sense of community with all that word implies—a good school system, good jobs, accessible cultural and recreational amenities, people who care about their neighbors, and about the condition of the world at large, and so on. And it is the result of what happens in a community when all of those amenities (schools, cultural institutions, etc.) are allowed to flourish: entrepreneurs, young marrieds, wealthy retirees, social engineers, are ATTRACTED to such places. They create jobs and families, build social networks, care for each other and foster a sense of shared values that gets passed on to future generations.

Last week I got an email from the head of our National State Arts Agency Association. He wrote, “The not-for-profit arts world is engaged in entrepreneurial adapting and hybridizing … to address the always increasing relative expense of labor-intensive endeavors in a technological society, to diversify revenues, and to aggregate capital in ways that enable it to compete with for-profit leisure time providers.”

(I actually spent some time deciphering this DC-speak) He’s saying what we in Vermont already know—or will certainly find out on July 18th. We have to adapt to survive. We have to identify and welcome new partners. We have to identify and adopt new practices and procedures. We have to encourage our institutions to develop what social scientists refer to as “a culture of change.” We have to welcome new ideas and not be afraid of them.

We have to welcome the Creative Economy.

THE QUESTION OF 'ARTISTIC EXCELLENCE'

For the past several months I have labored mightily to give birth to the Arts Council’s next five-year Strategic Plan. This is not an exercise to be taken lightly. In fact, I have come to Ever since the United States started down the road of public support for the Arts in 1964 a primary driver for determining who or what gets support has been whether it demonstrates something called “artistic excellence.”

The nature of arts professionals predisposes them to assert that “artistic excellence” should always be the prime directive for public funding agencies. That way, simply by receiving funds an arts professional (an artist or an administrator) may claim that the work he/she does is of high quality and therefore worthy of (more) support—a self-fulfilling prophecy if there ever was one.

After more than 25 years in the arts (on both sides of the funding equation), I no longer buy the artistic excellence argument where public funding is concerned. Here’s why.

Public agencies (like the Vermont Arts Council) derive most, if not all, of their grant dollars from the American taxpayer. Every taxpayer, that is. Not just the one’s who prefer Pilobolus to Jay-Z, or Shakespeare to Spielberg. We therefore, as people who work for a state arts council, have an obligation to address the variety of tastes and preferences that are out there, and lead, wherever possible, everyone to as full an understanding of and appreciation for those disciplines we refer to as “the arts” as we possibly can.

The simple fact is that not everyone likes classical art forms. Not everyone likes Jazz. Or Abstract Expressionism. Or poetry. Or Shakespeare. Or Mamet.

Right?

Isn’t our job, then, to find out the breadth of what people do like, and introduce them to creative works from other cultures and, perhaps in this process, expand their world-view, and increase their opportunities to discover for themselves what art (in whatever genre or form it takes) brings into their lives?

In this eclectic, difficult-to-compare-apples-to-oranges situation, how does “artistic excellence” fit in? In my experience it really only works when artists and administrators are “doing the absolute best they can” under the circumstances they face. Context, therefore, is crucial.

Several years ago there was a great debate between Lloyd Richards of the Yale Rep. and Robert Brustein of the A.R.T. in Cambridge on just this topic. Brustein, if I recall correctly, said that art did possess an absolute standard where excellence was concerned and that the only the works of the highest caliber should ever receive support. Richards took the approach that not all producers have access to the best talent, the best facilities, and that context needed to be taken into consideration where funding decisions were made. It all boiled down to an argument in which Richards ended up advocating for a position that seemed to say that any art is probably better than none.

I agree with Richards on this one. The phrase “artistic excellence” used as criterion for funding suggests that people agree on what that term actually means. In my experience, they don’t. Most panel meetings I’ve been involved with are more like an elaborate and unspoken negotiation among smart, experienced people with definite points of view. Consensus gets reached around what should receive funding. But often, artistic excellence, by any one person’s standard, is too subjective to measure. Think about it. How often has a good friend come up to you with a new CD and said, this is great, ya gotta check this out…and you have and you say “how interesting” because you can’t find polite enough words to express how you really feel about the work. Different strokes for different folks, right?

What really determines funding decisions in my opinion is context. Context imbues a project in North Troy with the same relative urgency that a similar project in New York or Los Angeles possesses, despite the obvious differences in resources one might assume could be brought to bear in each of those different communities. The audience in North Troy may be smaller and have less opportunity to experience diverse cultural experiences, than one in L.A. The amount they can pay an artist might be less. And they most likely don’t have the kind of access to an enormously diverse and talented pool of artists in North Troy that they do in L.A.

But our question has to be, is the community is doing everything it can to get the best artists it can afford? If so, don’t we have an obligation to do whatever we can to support it? Yes.

So let’s ask the $64 dollar question: What deserves public funding?

This is easy…arts activities that benefit the public, ALL the public. Not just the stereotypical subset who think of art as that which is created to sustain the legacy of dead, European, white males. (Yes, I’m talking stereotypes here!)

And the $63 dollar question: Who makes the fund/not fund decision?

This is even easier…a “peer-review” panel is by far the best mechanism anyone has ever devised to review a varied set of applications. The panel reviews all the material, taking context into consideration, and its recommendation gets forwarded to an authorizing body (for us, our Board of Trustees elected by our membership) and in most cases they accept the panel’s recommendation. Applicants get a fair review from knowledgeable people. The public interest is served by the oversight provided by the Board.

An application for support for a symphony project in Island Pond thus gets the same contextual review as a symphony project in Burlington. It’s only fair. It’s only right.

And, if the truth be told, if it’s a symphony project that involves the Vermont Symphony it will have a whole mess of artistic excellence thrown in for good measure, too!

Thank you!

The Creative Economy

Among the most common questions I am asked is “What’s this I hear about the Creative Economy?” Since 1998 the Arts Council has slowly and steadily tracked the network of towns, villages, neighborhoods, and people all over Vermont who, through their own experience and hard work, are looking at ways to re-invigorate themselves through this “new” sector.

Depending on whether I’m chatting with friends or close colleagues, giving a lecture at a school, or talking to community service organization members, I have three different definitions of the Creative Economy to suit the moment.

The simplest definition is based on one that Robert McBride of Bellows Falls uses. His basic point is that the Creative Economy is the result of fun, creative people sitting around a table thinking up fun, creative stuff to work on together. The implication is that the more fun and creative it is, the more it will be valued by those who experience it (neighbors, local business, etc.), and the more people will be attracted to do more of it.

The most complex definition is that which was created by the New England Council. It identifies Creative Industries (private and nonprofit sector entities whose services and products are the result of creative activities); Creative Workers (the individuals in any industry who are the originators of creative output—they don’t necessarily work for a creative industry, but their creative output certainly has value: think chip designers for IBM); and finally, Creative Communities, which are the geographical locations where fun, creative people tend to congregate (live, work, play) and attract entrepreneurs and start-up businesses.

The definition I like to use most often is in between the two. It is those economic and social conditions that have to exist in a place in order for that place to support a thriving network of cultural institutions and activities. It is also the economic and social result of what happens to a place when a thriving network of cultural institutions and activities is encouraged to move in and, simply speaking, set up shop.

The creative economy, therefore, is not something new. Nor is it something necessarily unique. In fact it isn’t really a “thing” at all. It is a dynamic process that tracks the ebb and flow of human life and returns it with interest to the people that are working to improve it.

We in Vermont are blessed with a multitude of places that are ripe for generous, even copious applications of “the Creative Economy.” The Vermont Council on Rural Development has a statewide project underway that, when complete, will have provided significant technical support to 14 towns who have expressed a desire to explore whether it will fit into their long range community/economic development plans.

And by now everyone knows of the informal Creative Economy “Poster Towns” of Vergennes, Brandon, Brattleboro, Bennington and Bellows Falls. But don’t forget White River Junction, St. Johnsbury, St. Albans, Rutland, Bennington, Hardwick, Morrisville. I even hear murmurings from Manchester, Springfield, Bradford, Newport/Derby, Enosburg Falls, the Islands, Waterbury, and dozens of others.

The list could go on and on. Why? Because the Creative Economy is what Vermont is all about—and has been for generations. Think about the Precision Economy at the end of the 19th Century. Think of our landscape. Think of heritage—those historical and human artifacts that keep “drawing us in close.” It’s too simple to say that the Creative Economy is just about arts and cultural institutions, because it’s not. Nor is it just about jobs or schools or faith or recreation. It isn’t even about skiing and maple syrup and fall foliage and cheese and ice cream.

(Okay, we’ll talk about ice cream separately, shall we?) It’s really about all of those things. And we get to choose, community by community, town by town, how to make it matter to us. Because, trust me, it does matter to us. All of us.