Arts Funding Struggles Coast to Coast

California Screamin', and A Connecticut Yankee in King Culture's Court

By Leonard Jacobs

 "The arts, for a lot of people growing up, were places behind walls," says John DeStefano, the Mayor of New Haven, Conn, in an interview last week with Back Stage. "Today, we are mainstreaming the arts more and more into the lives of citizens -- it's an integral part of the marketing of a city."

What a reassuring philosophy that is -- words to inspire those who take great pride in what is universally called the arts capital of the Nutmeg State. Still, such words are rare for a politician, especially lately. In this time of exploding budget deficits, economic paralysis, and persistent revenue contractions, 2003 to date has offered very little news on the subject of state and local arts funding to give cause for good cheer. Dozens of states and hundreds of localities have cut arts appropriations -- by half, two-thirds, three-quarters, or more. And while it's been a useful time for arts advocates and thousands of not-for-profits to join together in common spirit, the whole definition of victory at the moment is oddly perverse: If cuts are less draconian than first feared, if arts agencies are spared abolition, that's considered a win.

Missing in all this, meanwhile, are pro-arts words from elected figures. Even if they are just words -- even if state lawmakers and governors find it impossible to fund the arts on anything approaching the levels of recent years -- statements of support for the community would at least provide some psychological assurance. But instead, in the view of arts groups nationwide, the relentlessly bad economic news has translated into what feels like an anti-arts assault. In New Jersey, Gov. James McGreevey, once touted as staunchly pro-arts, proposed a total de-funding altogether. The governors of Colorado, Arizona, Massachusetts, Missouri, and Florida, just to name a few, have signed off on huge arts budget cuts, with more, predictably, on the way.

Not that any case studies compare to California, where a colossal $38 billion deficit has sparked the state's first-ever recall vote for governor. As July came to a close -- and nearly a month late -- the Legislature voted to allocate just $1 million out of a $99 billion budget to the California Arts Council. That figure, down from $18 million last year, is nearly 97% lower than the $32 million set aside only three years ago. Even after factoring in California's share of money from the National Endowment for the Arts ($960,000), revenues from the sale of vanity license plates, and a grant or two, the agency's next-year budget will be $3 million -- $3 million in a state with 35 million souls.

And the California calamity hasn't been restricted to state-level belt-tightening. In San Jose, local arts groups are fighting a proposal to switch their funding source from the proceeds of a hotel occupancy tax to direct appropriations from the city treasury -- they fear that future revenue shortfalls might mean the budget axe will swing their way. Last week, The San Diego Union-Tribune ran an editorial exhorting nonprofits to "go out and have a bake sale," since neither public nor private philanthropy is expected to start climbing again any time soon. And, like salt on an open wound, the Los Angeles-based A.S.K. Theater Projects recently announced it would close its doors. Part foundation, part play development lab, the group has poured millions into the Tinseltown theatre scene since 1989.

The "Artistic Dividend" Angle

Given the lack of arts-supporting words and action from many political figures -- and given the obvious inability of elected officials nationwide to dodge draconian arts funding drops -- might there be any tangible, forceful, reasonable economic arguments that could slowly turn the attitude tide?

More and more, the answer seems yes. Last year, Carnegie Mellon economist Richard Florida issued "The Rise of the Creative Class," a book that has since become a bible for arts advocates. In it, Florida argues that a "creative class" of well-skilled, well-paid workers tend to cluster in attractive urban or even suburban settings; by dint of where they congregate, a corporate presence, and consequently economic growth, will be generated.

In a new study, "The Artistic Dividend: The Arts' Hidden Contributions to Regional Devel-opment," Ann Markusen and David King of the Humphrey Institute of Public Affairs at the University of Minnesota carry Florida's notions further, presenting compelling evidence for why the arts are less a luxury than a necessity for economic growth. By analyzing the arts from the perspective of occupation -- they examine performers, directors, dancers, choreographers, composers, musicians, writers, sculptors, and photographers as "economic actors" -- the authors sweep away decades of mythology regarding just what, and how, the artist contributes to society.

Indeed, while artistic activity is "viewed as a discretionary element in a regional economy, rather like icing on a cake of industry, finance, and basic services," this study effectively debunks that vision. In previous examinations of the economic impact of the arts, the typical methodology has been to total up what "patrons spend on performances and restaurant meals, parking, and shopping in districts around major theatres, symphony halls, and galleries." Trouble is, such analyses and valuations fail to consider how artists themselves drive and affect the economy which surrounds them and in which they participate. After all, artists buy and consume a wide range of products and services. By focusing on case studies in which the "artist is not starving, working menial jobs, or waiting for the next grant, commission, or role" but is actively, successfully, seeking market placement for their work, the study not only explains how artists are "economic actors," but lends statistics to the story.

The authors then take the concept to the next, and perhaps most important level, likening artists, and artistic communities overall, to that of more traditional sectors of the economy, such as finance and manufacturing. "Artistic networks, often enhanced by new spaces for working and gathering, are helping to spread entrepreneurial ideas and practices both within and outside" the areas in which they exist, conclude the authors. Which proves that artists, "like firms, have locational preferences and gravitate toward certain regional economies." This "artistic dividend," they say, "is a product of long-term commitments by philanthropists, patrons, and the public sector to regional arts organizations, arts education, and individual artists. It is enhanced by entrepreneurial activity among artists and fostered by (and contributes to) high urban quality of life."

From Theory to Practice

For all the persuasive arguments made in Florida's tract and the Markusen and King report, the most salient question facing the arts is how to put such philosophies, analyses, and belief systems into everyday practice. The aggressively pro-arts policies of Mayor John DeStefano of New Haven -- the man who generated those words of hope at the top of this article -- might well make him the poster boy for a sea-change in attitudes toward the arts and arts funding.

To be sure, the trials and travails of DeStefano, a Democrat in office since 1994, are perhaps less drama-laden than the situations befalling most cash-strapped governors. Yet throughout the interview, DeStefano was hardly reluctant to hammer away at his support for the arts. His chief rationale? That the arts can serve -- and, indeed, must serve -- as an engine for economic growth for cities.

"The fact is, the distinguishing characteristic for this community -- and frankly, something that the people tell me they want -- is support for the arts. We are, of course, host to [Yale University], a large research institution that defines our advantages and weaknesses. Clearly one strength is our capacity to promote the arts -- it has branded us to the state and nationally. It defines us competitively among cities."

What DeStefano unfailingly calls his "investment" in the arts is multidimensional. New Haven, for example, is part of a National Arts Stabilization Project that is providing technical assistance to leading arts organizations, a $500,000 proposition. Two years ago, work was completed on a plaza linking the city's small but vibrant theatre district with a commercial corridor. This year, development subsidies for the Shubert Theatre, the site of many pre-Broadway tryouts, is helping to sustain the viability of that structure. In addition to maintaining a well-funded office of cultural affairs, citywide marketing efforts for arts programs, and a new arts magnet middle school and arts-centric high school, DeStefano is, for 2003, president of the National League of Cities, a position which gives him a high-profile platform for his pro-arts views.

It's not a stance devoid of political risks. In the last year, much of the political heat surrounding DeStefano resulted from his closure, last September, of the 30-year-old Veterans Memorial Coliseum, an arena which he publicly declared made little "economic sense" to keep open, despite tremendous grassroots opposition. Ever defiant, the mayor requested $10.2 million from Gov. John G. Rowland to demolish the structure as well as state subsidies that would enable, among other things, the Long Wharf Theatre to build a venue that would give it a prominent downtown berth.

"Look, lots of communities bet on sports teams -- maybe they'll stay, maybe they'll go. But if you think about what's fundamentally inherent, the arts are authentic to New Haven. We see the arts as a way to engage the people who live here -- I can get in the car with my son and drive to Shea Stadium in Queens to see the Mets play, and that's great fun, but we don't live there. So when you sum all this up, it suggests that not to invest in the arts is to undermine the infrastructure of the city, the infrastructure of the road that will take this city into the future.

"For us to pony up for sports -- which I think typically does not leverage the same return, job creation, and economic benefits that the arts do -- doesn't make sense," he continued. "There's an apparent and measurable [economic] return with the arts that, in turn, protects its revenue stream. Sometimes sports teams are supported because they've been a larger part of the mass culture until this point. What's happened to the arts is that it's been moved out of the symphony hall into the neighborhood park. So, it's not just my commitment, but our community's commitment, to invest in this area -- and I think, even in this tough budget time, people can see the value in it."

Equating this belief with a budget line hasn't been easy. In January, the Yale Herald reported that 200 city jobs were eliminated last year in New Haven through attrition and early retirement; this year, another $2 million budget gap opened up, forcing DeStefano to spend much of the spring pondering what to cut. He has long bemoaned the fact that "New Haven receives 54% of its aid from the state of Connecticut," meaning the city will have to "renegotiate medical benefits, benefits with employees, and to reduce any discretionary spending in the budget" to solve the fiscal crisis. To hold fast to his pro-arts position, however, his "investment" in this area would have to withstand a convulsive body blow.

Making matters more complicated, he adds, is the fact that "the state of Connecticut does not permit municipalities to levy local taxes" like a hotel occupancy fee. Therefore, the arts funding options open to, for example, San Diego or San Jose, are not open to him. What to do?

"First," DeStefano says, "you have to protect the core activities of the city -- you have to pick up the trash, keep the lights on, and so forth. But I think that there's also a standard that says that while some services are core services, there are also certain services that are essential, and as you go through those, you look to protect areas that are fragile, to protect the investment you've pushed across the table over the years. What's the point of doubling arts funding over the last three years if, at the same time, we just go and cut it back and lose all the gain we've accomplished?

"To cut arts funding in New Haven would be noticeable and direct because it's an emerging asset of the city that must and needs to be nurtured. For the little money I would save by cutting funding for the arts, there would be a huge loss. It's not the time to go backward. To me, that's how you balance choices. Maybe that means we're going to have to raise taxes -- but it's a good investment in taxpayer dollars, because we are not in this for the short gain, but for long gain. And hopefully we've developed a culture in the community that supports the arts equally -- and either they see the value in that, and that helps you get re-elected, or they don't, and you're not."