Unlike most American presidents, he writes his own books. He is said to enjoy
music, especially blues and jazz. His chief of staff was a ballet dancer. His
appointees have enough PhDs to fill a faculty club. But what will his arts
policy be like? And what will it mean for the visual arts?
Barack Obama was sworn in on 20 January with a historic mandate for change.
Extraordinary times call for bold actions and visionary ideas. Big government is
back. Hopes are for an administration that is not only more progressive, but
also smarter.
This could be good news for the arts—as long as they can
build a convincing case that they serve the public interest. Long banished to
the periphery of public affairs, arts policy is poised to make a comeback under
various 21st-century guises: from economic stimulus programs to “soft
diplomacy” initiatives to digital-age intellectual property regulation. The
opportunity to rethink government’s role comes at a time when it is readily
acknowledged among arts professionals that cultural support in America is
outdated in its assumptions, sclerotic in its methods, biased in its outcomes,
and inefficient in its use of philanthropic and taxpayer dollars. It’s time to
move on. But where?
In search of a road map, I hope I’ll be excused for borrowing from one of
Obama’s fellow Chicagoans. Speaking in 2003, Donald Rumsfeld, the former US
Defence Secretary, famously sorted events into three types. “Known knowns” are
things we know, based on the record. “Known unknowns” are things we don’t yet
know, but which should be clarified in due course. Finally, “unknown unknowns”
are, in Rumsfeld’s words, “the ones we don’t know we don’t know”— circumstances
for which no one has prepared.
Known Knowns
Short of major
arts appointments or speeches by the President, we’re left with clues from the
campaign and the transition. The Obama-Biden “Platform in Support for the Arts”
was, by virtue of its existence, an extraordinary document. It was also
unusually specific: invest in arts education, expand public/private partnerships
between schools and arts organizations, create an “Artist Corps” to work in
low-income schools and communities, increase funding for the National Endowment
for the Arts (NEA), promote cultural diplomacy. There is every reason to believe
these priorities should outlast the campaign.
Obama’s thinking on
cultural issues is informed, in part, by a group of mainly Chicago-based
academics and experts. One of his most influential advisers, Bill Ivey, the
former NEA chairman now based at Vanderbilt University, is overseeing the
transition of the major federal cultural agencies. His world view may be
emblematic of emerging currents in arts policy.
Ivey’s approach,
summarized in his 2008 book, Arts Inc. How Greed and Neglect Have Destroyed Our
Cultural Rights, stresses the “expressive life” and “cultural vibrancy” of
communities—qualities that rely on much more than the contributions of fine-arts
institutions, such as museums. As a folklorist with ties to country music, Ivey
is also a champion of universal and unfettered access to the “intangible
heritage” of quintessentially American cultural forms, such as films and
popular-music recordings. “The copyright-fueled marketplace is the biggest
single obstacle separating Americans from the full exercise of our cultural
rights,” he argues in his book. Government, in Ivey’s view, shouldn’t confine
itself exclusively to nurturing professional non-profit arts organizations—which
only keep going “back to the old well with a shinier, bigger bucket”. Public
funds should flow where culture actually happens, and arts policy should
vigorously embrace the broadcast and Internet domains.
Ivey is hardly
alone in pushing beyond traditional notions of high culture. He represents a new
school of arts-policy thinking that places value on hitherto underappreciated,
amateur, community-based, digitally-mediated, often commercial arts—the kind of
creative pursuits, in short, which most Americans enjoy. This broadening of
perspective would constitute the biggest shift in policy since the
implementation of large-scale cultural support in the post-war era.
Another widely anticipated change has to do with the mechanics of government
support. Total cultural expenditures by the federal government—through agencies
for education, trade, parks, transportation, trade, and even defense—vastly
exceed the National Endowment’s paltry budget. (Compare the NEA’s $144m annual
allocation to the $10 billion Obama has pledged for early childhood education.)
Rather than try to massively boost the NEA—a hard sell, even in the best of
times—the administration will likely emphasize coordination across the full
breadth of government. No “arts czar” is likely to be installed in the West
Wing, and my bet is that calls to create a cabinet-level “Secretary of the Arts”
(as recently sounded by music producer Quincy Jones) will fall on deaf ears. But
the arts may be inserted into the portfolios of senior departmental
officials.
Economic stimulus and bailout projects would be the most
obvious cross-agency initiatives. With the economy tanking, there is no shortage
of proposals—including some that amount to wishful thinking. Mark I. Pinky,
writing in The New Republic, for example, proposed a bailout for old-media
journalists in a revival of FDR’s Federal Writers Project. From universities to
museums, every cultural group is composing its own wish list. It shouldn’t be
long before we hear pleas to revive Depression-era programs in art, music, and
theater. If government could employ 3,700 visual artists in 1933-34, the
thinking goes, why not do the same in our current hour of need?
But,
unfortunately, the arts will be at the back of a long line of potential bailout
targets—and, as the case of the Las Vegas mob museum that found its way into a
Nevada bailout request exemplifies, some ideas will be shot down as frivolous.
Moreover, the rationale for subsidizing art production isn’t as clear today as
it was 70 years ago. Back then, America was a young nation with a weak arts
infrastructure. Today, it may have a cultural overproduction problem—too much
art chasing after the same audiences and dollars.
That’s why public
investment will be directed to education and national-service initiatives (on
the Peace Corps and Teach for America model). Beyond their unassailable human
and community benefits, such programs create jobs while helping to replenish
tomorrow’s arts audiences.
Known Unknowns
So what would a
latter-day federal arts project look like? We don’t know, but we can guess. Few
predict a renaissance of mural painting, as happened during the Great
Depression, though restoring those WPA-era murals would be a good way to deploy
idle artistic capacity (a huge inventory of cultural sites awaits
refurbishment). A percent-for-art program attached to stimulus spending on
schools, roads, bridges, hospitals, and mass transport could spark a boomlet in
public art. Yet, a 21st-century public work project—if there is one—should
address some contemporary needs and use the modern skills of today’s creative
workers. The monumental effort of digitizing public collections and moving
libraries and civic institutions online would be one place to start.
Here are some other policy domains that have likely, but as-yet unclear
implications for the visual arts:
• Public diplomacy: Under Hillary
Clinton, the State Department is expected to dust off the arsenal of “soft”
statecraft to burnish America’s image in the world. Sponsorship for cultural and
educational exchanges, exhibitions and festivals, heritage and preservation
could uncork funds for the visual arts. Questions abound: would Secretary
Clinton recreate the United States Information Agency (which her husband’s
administration merged into State)? Would public diplomacy initiatives range
beyond hot zones like the Middle East? Does today’s art faithfully represent
America’s positive ideals, as Abstract Expressionism was believed to have done
during the Cold War?
• Intellectual property: Intellectual property
regulations have been fervently criticized for erecting unduly high barriers of
access to content—a big problem for artists seeking to use source material by
others. Yet copyright also underpins the livelihood of creative industries. Will
copyright laws, in particular the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, come under
review by the new administration? Can Obama engineer a workable compromise
between content owners and content users?
• Old and new media: With the
vast majority of Americans connecting to culture electronically, questions about
distribution and access loom large. The Federal Communications Commission might
become an important battleground of cultural policy. What will happen to public
radio and public broadcasting? Do existing decency laws still make sense? Will
“net neutrality”—the principle that all digital information must be treated
equally—prevail online, or will telecommunications companies be allowed to
impose tiered restrictions and fees on certain types of content?
• Tax
policy: Much of America’s arts policy is, in fact, tax policy. The scale and
timing of the rollback of Bush-era tax cuts for the wealthy—including the
perpetuation of the estate tax—will have a measurable impact on philanthropic
donations, and thus, arts organizations. Several arts groups are pushing for tax
incentives for artists to donate work to museums by allowing them to deduct the
full fair-market value of their creations (they can presently deduct only
materials). But how soon Obama can address taxation is anyone’s guess.
•
Symbolic politics: Under Obama, artists may be a more frequent sight in the
White House, and not just in an ornamental role. They can be parties to
conversations about America’s problems, which require empathy and imagination to
solve. In a time of anxiety, artists—who rallied behind Obama’s Presidential
Campaign in unprecedented numbers—may be drafted to help lift the national
spirit. This may sound touchy-feely, but Americans are, to an extent other
nations consistently underestimate, remarkably susceptible to symbolic appeals.
The story of Shepard Fairey’s reverential Obama portrait, which became an icon
of the 2008 campaign and has now been acquired by the National Portrait Gallery
(see right), may portend a new alliance between politics and
art.
Unknown Unknowns
Finally, the surprises which nobody
really knows how to tackle. The best-laid plans may have to be put on hold to
deal with situations unlike any recent American president has faced.
What if there is a systemic failure of cultural institutions? How does
public policy work during deflation? Who will sustain the arts if foundation
assets go up in smoke? What should government do if scores of museums go
bankrupt (as LA MOCA did) and private benefactors don’t step up (as they did in
Los Angeles)? Should Washington rescue state arts budgets? Does austerity demand
more oversight of nonprofits, or more freedom so they can figure out how to
survive? More fundamentally, will a nation that has partially nationalized its
financial institutions warm up to nationalizing cultural assets? What would US
culture feel like if government were compelled to become more deeply enmeshed in
the arts?
The most urgent question for the visual arts is whether they
can make a valid claim on public resources amidst the current economic calamity.
Or will they be branded elitist, out-of-touch, of no clear and present value to
the project of national renewal? “As long as art is the beauty parlor of
civilization, neither art nor civilization is secure,” the philosopher John
Dewey warned in 1934, as America faced another upheaval while inventing a new
cultural role for government. Barack Obama’s thinking may be similar, and the
art world should take note.
András Szántó is a writer, researcher, and consultant whose work spans the worlds of art, media, policy, and cultural affairs. He is a member of the senior faculty of the Sotheby's Institute of Art in New York and director of the NEA Arts Journalism Program at Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism. He is the founder of ArtworldSalon, the international online site on art issues and has been the editor of the journal ARTicles and Reflections.
This essay was first published in The Art Newspaper, www.theartnewspaper.com.