This piece originally appeared in the Fractured Atlas newsletter on January 15, 2006.
When one talks to arts industry insiders about their advocacy priorities, high on most lists is more dollars from Uncle Sam. Although the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) and other sources of federal funding account for only a tiny portion of overall charitable support for the arts, funding at the federal level is seen as a reflection of national priorities. More money, after all, supposedly indicates that we’re a more respected and valued part of American society. When the NEA’s funding is cut or its programs pared back, we bemoan the loss since it allegedly represents an emergence of America’s latent disdain for our work.
The most notorious example of this latter phenomenon may be the “NEA 4″ incident of 1990, when awards to performance artists Karen Finley, Tim Miller, John Fleck, and Holly Hughes were vetoed on the basis that their sexually and politically provocative work was “lewd” and inappropriate for funding by taxpayer dollars. More significant, though, was the 1996 showdown when Congress slashed the endowment’s budget by 39% and imposed broad new restrictions on the types of funding permitted.
Underlying both of these battles were increasingly divergent ideas about art itself and the role it has to play in American society. At the risk of gross oversimplification, this debate can be largely broken down along the now cliché red-state/blue-state lines. Blue-staters tend to believe that artists who make social or political statements are fulfilling a responsibility to be relevant to their audience. They are therefore comfortable with art that pushes envelopes as well as buttons. Red-staters, meanwhile, believe that the primary responsibility of an artist is to entertain in a way that upholds and respects tradition. Yam-wielding performance artists, from this perspective, are neither entertaining nor particularly relevant, but simply and sometimes downright offensive.
We’re left with the question of how to reconcile a respect for such fundamental differences with the very notion of a federal agency that disburses funding for the arts on a national basis. Even if we were to miraculously agree as a society that our tax dollars should go to support the creation of “important” works of art, individual tastes be damned, we’d still be left with the problem of Washington politicians having ultimate control over those funding decisions.
A saner strategy is to allow direct public funding to filter down to the most local level that is economically feasible. Local funding agencies are better equipped to judge which works are important and relevant to their local communities. Furthermore, their funding decisions are relatively insulated from criticism by outsiders with conflicting artistic sensibilities.
That said, there remains a vital role for the federal government in indirect funding for the arts. Federal money is most effective when it focuses on “big picture” issues like arts education in public schools and a tax code that provides incentives for private philanthropy. Likewise, federal grantmakers like the NEA stand to make the biggest impact in the long run by supporting projects that contribute to a robust and sustainable infrastructure. This includes (surprise!) service organizations and other industry facilitators, as well as re-granting programs that can be carried out at the state and local level.
Art is as subjective as it gets, which is a big part of what makes it interesting in the first place. Inasmuch as I don’t want Jesse Helms deciding what I can or can’t see in an East Village blackbox, it’s equally unfair to impose my urban liberal sensibilities on his rural conservative constituents. After all, what would it say about the vitality and diversity of our nation if everyone agreed to like and support the same art?