Cold feet and bat ears

The act of watching a play strikes fear into my heart. Only at first. I begin by worrying that one of the cast members won't arrive for this particular show, a little like imaging worst-case-scenario Kate Blanchett's run in with a motor vehicle in Benjamin Button, and then discovering the understudy maybe didn't expect that today would be the day and left her only pair of run-free stockings at home. What then?

What if the actors recognize that I just reached down to temporarily discard of my concession stand snack wrapper and mistook it for fidgeting in the middle of Act III? What if that guy in the audience laughed at the wrong time (say, during a key character death, a la Hamlet) and I feel embarrassed for him?

But the overarching freak out has to do with all the projections I'm placing on the actors in regards to their perseverance and hopes/dreams/feelings. I'm all wrapped up on the stage fright anxiety I never really shook from early high school, which consisted of sitting in Spanish class with my brand-spanking new slobber-enhancing retainers, reciting my conjugates. I also contemplate the overall spirit of the people--with a huge range of experiences--who have committed to getting on stage to recite the exact same two hour play for a few months for a few shows a day, possibly many shows a week. I'm not an actor and I'm not a big character developer when I write (poetry/prose dividing line?), so I know little about the kind of dedication this particular task takes. I'm just sitting there, waiting for the lights to dim, biting my nails over the potential cold feet happening backstage. This is me transferring my own flight (not fight) instinct that threatens to take hold of me re: being an artist/"artist" (cough, cough).

I recognized these emotions and ended up putting all of the above labels on what I was feeling yesterday, at Batboy: The Musical at the Village Players theater in Oak Park. This is not a true/objective reflection of the experience--no one was running off stage or fainting or renouncing acting for a career in investment banking. I'll just always have this lingering feeling anyone, while outwardly committed to their art form, could unpredictably beat feet at any moment.

In the show's program, a small blurb announced Obama's funding just pumped into the NEA grant-giving wing, providing a jolt to its dying little moneybag. This funding, part of the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009, gives $50million over two years. Half of this is expected to go to each state's arts councils for individual grants and the other half to, I suppose, art-related programming in general. Sigh. Let's see for one year, assuming all states are created equal, that's $25m / 50 states =$500,000 per state / 2 = $250,000 for a whole state's fund for individual artists' awards. I think the little blurb in the program was worried. And the world turns...

Next post: a exposition on my moral and "spiritual" commitment to art sans talk of money in any way, shape or form. I'm starting to feel a little grimy framing everything in relationship to money or the lack thereof so often.

Presidential Candidates: Arts Policy Statements

Let me start by saying that this post in no way means that I am a one-issue voter or that I think arts policy is the most important issue facing the nation right now. It is simply relevant to what we're doing here at the Three Ps. MFA is, after all, an abbreviation of "Master of Fine Arts". I also don't expect that this post will sway readers either way in making their decisions this election year. In fact, I had already made my voting decision (based on a combination of other issues) well before I read either of the candidates' positions on the arts.

So why bother reading about said positions in the first place? Well, I've had a lot of conversations lately--face-to-face and online--regarding the position of the practicing artist in this country. Are we just frivolous, superfluous persons or are we doing essential work? Must we empty bedpans in order to be viewed as contributing members of society? So maybe I'm just looking to our candidates' arts policies for some sense of legitimization beyond/outside the subset of art adherents. And killing time in between freelance gigs.

A look at John McCain's campaign website turns up no specific information on arts policy. A Google search turns up this blog entry, which is a place to start. However, when I visited VoteSmart.org, I didn't find any evidence that McCain wants to eliminate the arts. Rather, a look at a policy survey from 2004 shows that he would "slightly decrease" arts funding. But perhaps something has changed since 2004. If anyone has any more current information, I welcome comments below.

Then there's this telling comparison of the candidates' arts policy "stances". Judging by colum inches, Obama's plan is certainly bigger.

So what about Obama's plan? Well, he does address the arts on his campaign website, but you have to do a little hunting. You'll find it listed under "Additional Issues", which is probably as it should be. Predictably, the first point in Obama's plan focuses on children's art education. Again, this is probably as it should be, although it has always been one of my pet peeves that art isn't supported as a lifelong pursuit beyond the public school years. If you say a program or project is targeted at K-12 aged kids, it's a lot easier to fund than, say, a project targeted toward seniors or the 18-34 demographic. But I digress.

Obama's plan quotes the Chair of the NEA (Dana Gioia? The person isn't named): "The purpose of arts education is not to produce more artists, though that is a byproducts" and goes on to yammer about creating a more well-rounded populace, which seems to reinforce the prevailing notion that artists--people who define their vocation as the creation of art--are extraneous and that the status of "artist" is not one to which youth should aspire.

So, what else? Oh, there's an Artist Corps, increased funding for the NEA (no dollar figure is given), some stuff about cultural diplomacy and exchange, a nod to public/private partnerships (i.e., foist the costs onto private sector foundations and corporations). Nothing groundbreaking here.

The plan includes a heading about health care for artists, which is really just a restatement of Obama's plan to provide "affordable" health care for "everyone."

And then there's this oddly specific mention of the Artist-Museum Partnership Act, which amends the IRS code to allow artists (in this case, visual artists) to deduct the fair market value of their work rather than just supplies and materials come tax season. Which is great. Truly wonderful. For visual artists.

Overall, it's nice that Obama has a plan. But it's a fairly vague plan with a myopic view of what art is, who artists are and the place of art and artists in our society. Again, nothing surprising here.