Aristotle Got It: The Necessity of Funding Contemporary Art, Even if You Don’t Like It
What kind of art ought to be funded? Ought the support of art be democratic- only those things with wide appeal be funded?
Historically, artists found patrons who supported the and commissioned their work. Those who failed to find a sponsor or patron soon found another way to make a living.
The question of the public funding art raises all kinds of questions, not the least of which is why public money ought to fund art that can’t find a sponsor. In modern times, art of all kinds- especially avant garde or modern art- is funded and sponsored by large corporate entities. Why should tax dollars go to art expression which appeal to so few people?
In many ways, art is like technology. Millions of dollars in research have yielded billions of dollars in returns of new products and newer technologies. A vibrant art scene attracts more art, newer expressions of art and changing perceptions of art. The impressionists, cubists and other schools did not all open to rave reviews but in the end they changed our world.
Lastly, the 20th century has shown why government approved art isw a really, really bad idea.
IN 1973, a group of young Vancouver artists, including Kate Craig and Eric Metcalfe, bought a ramshackle wood frame building on gritty East 8th Avenue, built in the 1920s for a fraternal order called the Knights of Pythias, and converted it into spaces where they could live, work, exhibit, and perform. None of them employed traditional media, such as painting and drawing, suitable for commercial galleries; they explored multimedia, video, performance, music, and poetry. They were part of an avant-garde for whom existing on the margins of the mainstream art world was a matter of pride. And they were not alone. Most of the country’s artist-run spaces were created during the ’70s and ’80s: A Space in Toronto in 1969, Plug In in Winnipeg in 1972, Eyelevel Gallery in Halifax in 1974, Articule in Montreal in 1979, Eastern Edge in St. John’s in 1984, Stride in Calgary in 1985. The East 8th Avenue building in Vancouver eventually became the home of the Western Front, one of Canada’s first and oldest artist-run centres, which it remains to this day.
In the early years, artists’ centres provided opportunities for experimentation in the visual arts, and focal points for creative communities in regions cut off from cultural centres like New York. Events at the Western Front included a celebration of the 1,000,011th anniversary of the invention of art; the first British Columbia art race, in which participants ran along Georgia Street with their art strapped on their backs; and a performance in which Kate Craig, decked out in faux leopard skin and wings, flew along a cable stretched from a beached freighter. There were performances and installations by such now famous collectives as General Idea, and there were visits from international artists like French Fluxus pioneer Robert Filliou. Everyone seemed to be having a remarkably good time; we can only imagine what went on at the parties. And who paid for it? We did. It is unlikely any of this would have happened without public investment in contemporary art—that is, without your tax dollars.
In a speech last November at the University of Toronto Art Centre, Marc Mayer, director of the National Gallery of Canada, recalled a story his brother had told him about a Saturday night poker game in Halifax. Amid the usual banter, someone brought up Mayer’s profession, and the others immediately vented their contempt: contemporary art is a scam; children could make it; it’s just a way for elitist dilettantes who can’t draw to get rich off taxpayers’ hard-earned money