Ambushing the Arts

By Camille Colatosti
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5/5/93

Small and minority organizations -- and our children -- pay the heaviest price for Engler's budget cuts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the winter of 1991 -- time to hang the first picture in the National Conference of Artists' new Fisher Building gallery: the culmination of a project several years in the making. Then the bad news arrived. Without warning, Gov. John Engler suspended funding for grants already awarded by the Michigan Council for the Arts.

"We had wanted our new space for so long," says Conference president Dwight Smith. "But when the funding was cut, it was like -- oh wow -- everything just disappeared. We had already signed a contract for the gallery, so we didn't want to change our plans. Here was a chance for young artists to display their work. But money was tight. We barely survived that first year."

Smaller organizations like Smith's were hit hardest by funding cuts. "We had fewer options from private donors," he says. "Most corporations want to give money to 'winners' -- known groups -- like the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, not to organizations like mine or to Your Heritage House."

Your Heritage House director Josephine Love's bright eyes cloud over when she recalls Engler's surprise attack on the budget of her Detroit-based fine arts children's museum.

"The state reneged on contracted arrangements," she says curtly. "We were (already) in the fourth or fifth month of (12-month) programs that we had to cut. We had no opportunity to adjust."

Other organizations were completely destroyed. The Michigan Dance Association, a statewide umbrella for dance groups, went out of business when it lost a $20,000 grant. "That was the end," says an indignant Sesta Peekstok of the Michigan Association of Community Arts Agencies, which provides developmental services to community arts groups. "That network is lost -- forever."

When Peekstok begins discussing her own organization, she appears almost overwhelmed.

"On Jan. 31, 1991," she recalls, "we voted to suspend services, close two offices and lay off six full-time staff members." With no money for salaries, rent and utilities, the Association of Community Arts Agencies simply shut down for eight months. When it did reopen, it was a ghost of its former self: The staff was cut to one full-time consultant and one temporary, part-time office worker.

"We were totally service-based," says Peekstok of her association. "And our services are almost free. We were already busy when we had six people. Now I'm (the only one) consulting with arts organizations across the state. With the cuts, there is even greater need for our services, and I just can't meet all of the demand."

No wonder she looks so overwhelmed. She is.

That Sudden 'Whoosh'

So are most other arts organizations in the state. When Engler suspended funding for grants awarded by the Michigan Council for the Arts, members of the arts community predicted -- accurately, as it's turned out -- devastating results. As then-MCA Chair Leon S. Cohan explained at the time, "The uncertainty threatens the existence of both large and small arts institutions and the careers of individuals working in the arts."

Making the cuts in midseason, after grants had been approved and partially administered, made things even more difficult. Organizations scrambled, not only to meet financial commitments that had already been made, but also to spread a year's worth of recisions across just seven months of budgetary time. Even large institutions felt the pinch. The Detroit Symphony Orchestra, for example, had to cut $1 million worth of programs, lay off 18 percent of its staff and reduce employee salaries.

The situation has not improved. Today, state arts funding wavers at just 60 percent of 1990 levels. And it's the smaller organizations, the ones with little clout and quite often with the most minimal resources, that are most endangered.

"While the big organizations, like the Detroit Institute of Arts and the DSO, are hurt," Cohan says, "the real casualties of state cuts are the many, many small arts organizations that simply cannot function without state money. Many of these programs -- programs for children, minorities and people with handicaps -- have been reduced or eliminated."

Even Engler's deputy press secretary Maura Campbell admits that "the cuts could have been handled more smoothly. We probably didn't have to slash with that sudden 'whoosh.' There were lots of harsh words, hurt feelings."

But, despite all of the damage that's been done, Campbell insists that the current situation is not tragic. "I don't mean to sound harsh," she explains, "but we had a great deal of service duplication -- too many organizations all doing the same thing."

A former consultant to the Detroit Institute of Arts, Campbell has worked for Engler since May 1992. "When I took this job," she explains, "my mother-in-law, who heads an arts and flowers program that donates bouquets to the DIA, was very upset with me. Finally, we just had to agree not to talk about it. Anther friend was more extreme. He asked why I'd gone to the enemy."

Ending the Battle?

Indeed, when the arts cuts hit them, many of the victims viewed the ensuing struggle as an outright war.

"It was as if Engler thought that we weren't people who work, who contribute to society," explains Daphne Ntiri of the United Black Artists, an organization that provides art workshops for inner-city youth.

Under the direction of Leon Cohan, the MCA fought back, trying to move beyond bombastic rhetoric and forge a compromise. The council called for, and got, an Arts Summit in the summer of 1991. Representatives from Engler's administration and the arts community met and tried to find a fair and balanced solution.

The summit gave birth to a new state arts council: the Michigan Council for Arts and Cultural Affairs. Engler press secretary Campbell claims that, despite the fact that MCACA's budget is a mere 10 percent of the old MCA's, the new agency is more effective. She says the cuts force arts organizations to be more creative and self-sufficient in their funding strategies than they've ever been before.

"The governor supports art," Campbell explains. "It's simply a question of who should fund it. Should it be the state, or shouldn't it?"

MCACA Executive Director Betty Boone, who was also a top official of the old MCA, refuses to compare the effectiveness of the two organizations. She had worked under Governor Blanchard, and now continues under Engler. But as she sits in her office, her face is wistful as she recalls the days when the agency had a staff of 36. Today, the MCACA's polished and calm gray-walled gallery belies the frenzy felt by the agency's nine dedicated but extremely harried professionals. As hard as they try, the nine simply cannot accomplish what the 36 could in the past.

Boone explains with a laugh, "Our budget is considerably less now than it used to be. We do our best, of course. ..."

To some, Boone may seem amazingly upbeat. Facing enormous odds, she has attempted to reshape the MCACA, focusing on how best to use the resources available. "This has meant pursuing partnerships with others in the community, especially with Michigan businesses," she explains.

Working with the Michigan Technology Council, an organization of more than 40 state businesses, Boone helps to explore the "creative links" between artists and business. Such a corporate/arts partnership, she says, can benefit artists, private business and society at large.

With admiration, Boone describes the arts/industry residency program at Kohler Co., the nation's leading manufacturer of plumbing products. Participating artists create "functional or sculptural" works of art in the company's pottery, iron and brass foundries, enamel shop, and research and development facilities.

Hard to Catch

Arts organizations -- both large and small -- agree that the private sector should do more. "But," says Cohan, "the private sector simply cannot fill the vacuum left by the state."

Even in wealthier communities like Ann Arbor, small organizations simply cannot attain the private funding they need to survive. Deanna Relyea, executive director of the Kerrytown Concert House, a very intimate, independent concert hall, believes that more money from the private sector simply is not available. "With tax law changes. It's harder now than it used to be for people to receive deductions for gifts. With the recession, the private sector is tight. We're all pounding on the same givers. And there are some businesses that just don't care."

Daphne Ntiri of the United Black Artists agrees. "The private sector is hard to catch," she says.

The ability and willingness of the private sector to finance the arts are inconsistent, she explains. "We are very grateful to Target Stores. They were instrumental in keeping us alive. But we know that we were lucky to attract their interest. Funding from the private sector is almost a matter of chance."

Three years ago, when Engler's funding cuts first hit, the United Black Artists approached 15 businesses that they thought should finance arts programs for minority youth. "Not one worked out," says Ntiri.

"Winning private support isn't a matter of effort," she continues. "It has nothing to do with the level of contact. It involves meeting the right person at the right place at the right time. We won Chrysler support, for example, as a matter of luck. I met someone who knew someone at Chrysler who was impressed with our work. This wasn't predictable. It wasn't something I could count on."

Campbell disagrees. She proudly points to the Detroit Symphony Orchestra to prove that Engler's strategy works. "The DSO," she says, "is doing extremely well. Remember, this is an institution that people said would never make it. You see, there is life after the budget cuts."

But to DSO Executive Director Mark Volpe, the definition of success depends entirely on perspective. "We've survived and that's positive," he explains. "But we still have significant financial challenges and a lot to do to solidify the future of the orchestra."

Given the orchestra's artistic success, financial difficulty seems a particularly bitter pill. Music Director Neeme Jarvi brings the DSO significant fame. DSO recordings are best-sellers. "More people hear the DSO than any other orchestra in the country, with the exception of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra," says Volpe.

But, even with all of that artistic, commercial and promotional success, state cuts of 68 percent -- approximately $2.5 million of an annual budget of $16-$17 million -- have deeply hurt the orchestra. They mean the elimination of programs peripheral to the DSO's mission, even though they are important for outreach, Volpe explains. Gospel concerts, Upper Peninsula tours, the parks programs have all bit the dust. "We had to concentrate solely on programs that would make money," Volpe says.

Arriving in Detroit from the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Volpe was surprised by the paucity of public funding in Michigan. "In Baltimore, as in other cities, the orchestra is supported by the city, the state and several counties," he explains. "In Michigan, we have no city or county money. What we need is regional funding."

Hitting Where It Most Hurts

If funding cuts have hurt an institution as large, prestigious and mainstream as the DSO, they have done much greater damage to smaller, minority-oriented organizations. And the immediate social consequences, particularly when the cuts involve organizations that deal with children, can be much more profound. In his booming, theatrical voice, Afro-American Studio Theater Artistic Director James Faulkner argues that arts funding for relatively cloutless inner-city organizations is vital for the state's future.

"If inner-city youth don't have opportunities to express themselves artistically, violence is going to happen," he says. Yet this producer of small traveling shows for African-American youth has not had the finances to produce a play in Detroit since the state cutbacks.

Marta Lagos, co-director of Casa de Unidad, an arts organization based in southwest Detroit's Latino community, likewise believes that, through art, people can find alternatives to violence. She explains: "Popular culture is often violent. Immersion in arts can help young people develop their own identity and gain self-esteem. It can help them find alternatives to gangs and drugs."

The children have suffered most from cuts, says Dwight Smith, president of the National Conference of Artists. He believes that children learn about art through the smaller arts organizations -- organizations like his, which co-sponsors an arts lectures series at the DIA -- and institutions like Your Heritage House.

"These programs are user-friendly," Smith explains. "A mother can visit Your Heritage House, she can bring her five kids and know that they won't get lost. The DIA intimidates some people at first. They won't go there alone. But, if a small institution -- like Your Heritage House -- organizes a tour of the DIA, people learn to overcome their fears and to appreciate the museum. They advance to another level, if you will."

Eloquently, Josephine Love speaks about the importance of Your Heritage House as she explains why she has dedicated over 50 years to bringing art to children: Art instruction improves people's lives. "While I don't turn everyone into an artist," she says, "I get the same satisfaction from teaching children now as I did 50 years ago."

Love enjoys bumping into former students, now adults, who recall the ways that the art she introduced them to has affected them. "When a lawyer who I took to concerts four decades ago moved his practice to my block," she explains, "he came by to tell me how important those experiences were to him.

"My daughter lives in Washington, D.C.," Love continues, "and when I went to visit her at Christmas, I met two former piano students of mine. They told me how important that training was.

"Arts are the fabric of life," Love concludes. "Arts instruction teaches not simply how to play an instrument, how to paint a picture or fashion a bowl. It teaches us sell-esteem, discipline, appreciation for ourselves and others."

As the DSO's Mark Volpe explains, "Arts education teaches people to appreciate beauty. It helps people become human."

The Politics of Art

To ensure that children have the opportunities they need, artists have had to take a step that many traditionally shy away from: They've entered the realm of politics. A group of citizen volunteers led by Leon Cohan recently formed the Arts Action Alliance. Partnered with the Concerned Citizens for the Arts -- an educational organization created to advance arts awareness -- the alliance lobbies the Legislature.

"We're willing to take our fair share of state cuts," says Cohan. "But arts funding does not need to be cut at a greater rate than the Xerox machine operates in the governor's office.

"If we are correct, and we believe that we are, a young person turned onto the arts is much less likely to be turned onto bad things. Every public dollar pays off."

Cohan powerfully summarized the views of the arts community during his acceptance speech at last fall's Governor's Arts Award ceremony.

"The arts will prevail," he said, "because there is more power and meaning in a symphony by Beethoven, conducted by Neeme Jarvi, or a trumpet solo by Wynton Marsalis, or a work of art by Tyree Guyton ... than there is in all the arguments of those who seek to persuade us that the relatively few tax dollars invested to bring these glories into the lives of our citizens must either be eliminated or drastically reduced.

"And so, it is my hope that there is a young boy or girl in our public schools who, 40 years or so from now, will be the President of the United States, and whose training in, and exposure to, the arts will have helped develop and strengthen that young person's senses ... and stressed the importance of what is beautiful in the world.

"And, when that young person grows up and become the president, he or she will bring a greater measure of humanity to the decisions made in the White House because of exposure to the beauty and wonder of the arts."

(For more information, or to send contributions, contact the Arts Action Alliance, 230 E. Grand River, Suite 201, Detroit, MI 48226. Or donate to the arts organization of your choice &emdash; they all need support.)

Camille Colatosti is co-author of Stopping Sexual Harassment.