On Funding Fine Art

Letter

I don’t know whether you, like me, have been following the debate about cutbacks in funding of the arts in Denmark this year. There have been layoffs at the Royal College of Art and departments have been closed. This has sparked some debate, among other things leading to Denmark’s current (now former, ed.) Minister of Culture, Per Stig Møller, appointing a special task group to evaluate the funding of the arts in Denmark.

Recently Berlingske (daily newspaper, ed.) published Møller’s impassioned reply to a letter from the editor. Møller wrote in firm favor of continued funding of the arts, and his arguments roused my curiousity. There were so many “Y’s” and I wondered: aren’t there any more profound arguments? What are the current parameters for funding the fine arts? What kind of art should we be funding?

I think it’s important to remember why we’re having this discussion right now. No, it's not because the general public has suddenly and collectively decided that art is irrelevant; the motivation is the global financial meltdown – which, for the record, was not caused by funding of the arts.

I understand the pragmatic short-term logic of the argument. Our nations reek of financial havoc, so we should consider cutting the funding of things we don’t explicitly need. But isn’t removing an appreciated part of society without consequence an impossible task? What might the consequences of reducing funding of the art to a minimum be? Naturally, funding is a stimulus for the creation of art, and even without it, art would still be produced; it is so fundamental to our existence. It has been with us, within us, since the dawn of humanity. But would future historians discover drastic declines in the volume of art produced in our time? Would they consider ours a Dark Age for the arts? Art has been relevant to every culture in world history, and as the Minister of Culture suggests in his letter, the art we make reflects our society in a particular era. And as we established in our Y-letters, a combination of images, objects and the written word gives us the most complete picture possible.

What kind of art then deserves funding? The kind of art that benefits the most people? The kind of art that benefits people the most? Art that could never be created without funding support? A wide spectrum of art – because who knows what will be beneficial to whom someday? Art which is considered great by a panel of experts? Should the available funds be distributed equally among all applicants? Or perhaps according to gender? The aim seems to be to enable the creation of art that will provide fodder for intellectual and spiritual development. But who can best determine which stimuli are most valuable?

Ideally, there should be a “separation of art and state”: art should be autonomous, a refuge, unaffected by politics and commerce. As far as I’m concerned, autonomy is the cornerstone of art. Autonomy, but not anarchy. Fine art should be free to criticize and comment on society, but the fine artist should not feel obligated to criticize in order to be eligible for public funding.

Decrypting the funding system is no easy task. I’m certain that artists and supporters of art would agree that right now is an ideal time to reorganize and improve the ever-more complex system of fine art funding, leaving out the drastic cuts. But the revamp should be carried out without the assistance of slenderizing politicians. Even the general public’s participation should be moderate. Nevertheless, the debate should be open and aimed at finding a pragmatic solution for all of our benefits.

Private funding need not be altogether good or bad, but the development of privately funded fine arts can’t be said to be unbiased. When we cut public funding of the arts, we leave the fate of fine arts to private philanthropists, which in turn increases the risk that the art produced is heavily influenced by personal interest. Take for example the aid of connoisseurs like Charles Saatchi and Larry Gargosian; what began as the cultivation of a visionary art slowly becomes increasingly one-sided, eventually cultivating brands.

Additionally, private funding presents new challenges for new talents, who usually don’t receive much funding before they are established as artists. Eliminating public funding is a move in favoring the established, limiting the potential for talented autodidacts or the less socially adept to excel as professional artists.

Public funding in the form of travel-, project-, or any other kind of grants is an invaluable way to support artists with less formal credentials, giving self-motivated ‘dark horses’ an opportunity to excel within their chosen field. Another obvious advantage of public funding is funds can – and do – reach artists regardless of whether they are well-connected with commercial businesses or not. While the majority of funds are distributed in capital cities, there are allowances for artists involved the cultural development in smaller communities. Having received a grant for a video-art project at the Arnot Art Museum in Elmira, NY, I can attest to the fact that the response was far more riveting than it might have been in a saturated city setting.

Public funding supports the idea of art belonging to everyone. Regardless of the particulars of a committee’s decisions, we can rest assured that an artist in need has received endowment. The essential thing is that the funds are there and we all have a shot at them. Ideally, an experienced public committee will be visually oriented and have sympathy for the less verbally gifted applicant, recognizing the potential in work samples and promising project proposals.

Both public and private funding are necessary to maintain diversity in art. Our common aim as a society should be to produce as much good art as possible. Without public funding, art risks becoming one-sided and geared to suit patrons. The lack of public funding will create more competition and the number of artists will probably decrease. Certain approaches to making art might face extinction altogether. Art institutions will probably turn their focus back to ancient art and the public will praise the new superartists’ quick thrills and easy entertainment as fine art’s role as a natural part of our everyday disappears into the sunset.

Academics, intellectuals, critics, curators and artists like myself are already taking turns to guard the gates of Art for the rest of society. We trumpet our feelings on the matter and our suggestions for the future of civilization; we implore our fellow citizens to direct their attention to what we believe to be of the utmost value, to keep art in everyone’s hands, hearts and minds.