Note: I have a self-imposed embargo on writing about Australian arts when not in the country, which I am (again) breaking to write this due to the extreme nature of the government cuts and their wider implications. I am conscious that taking pot-shots from afar is not ideal, and no attempt is being made to capitalise on this position.
But let’s not pick on Opera. Although the CEO’s comments
were emblematic of the lack of political sensitivity to
anything other than its own survival, there has been notable absences of meaningful
statements from any of Australia’s larger cultural organisations. This should not
be seen as them protecting their measly government funding (Melbourne Theatre
Company, sometimes selectively referring to itself as a State Theatre, receives
about 13% of its turnover in government funding. Normally, as primarily public
institutions, state theatres receive 50% or more). That organisation's confused and watered-down statement about their investments in independent theatre reflects this totally compromised position. In general,
the conspicuous absence of statements from major arts organisations should be seen as a
direct result of a desire to protect their market position from a growing
threat of grass-roots theatre and arts organisations. They are, in other words,
attempting to have their cake and eat it too, benefiting from the centralisation
of Arts funding whilst being seen to stand in solidarity or at very least neutral ambivalence.
Alison Croggon's statemnent to the Submission to Senate Inquiry into the 2014 and 2015 Arts Budgets is available here.
~
Reading Alison Croggon’s self-published submission to the Senate
Inquiry into the Arts Budgets of 2014-15, which is reviewing a reallocation under direct government control of almost 50% of Australia's major arts funding body's budget allocates to artists, one can make some casual notes which result in
an alarming whole. Putting aside Alison’s undeniable authority on the issue
established in an intimidating autobiographical introduction, the irrefutable nature of the argument is its most shocking component. Some statistics presented are alarming to those new to
them: that the Arts sector is nearly as big as Mining, that it is a far greater
employer, that it receives substantially less government subsidy than mining, not to mention benefiting
to Australian life in terms of education, togetherness, and identity. These
arguments are not new to Croggon, who has been championing these statistics for
some time to anyone who will listen.
Nor, unfortunately, is it news to the Australian government,
which has full access to this data. They know how big the arts sector is, they
know how big an employer it is. They have mapped out precisely how the cuts will
affect everyone – as Alison puts it, "individual artists, who already substantially fund the arts through their unpaid work, will be forced to compete in a diminishing pool", moving overseas or opting for different
careers to keep off the dole queue. This is not an accident, it is precisely
the point. As ad hoc and reckless as the Abbott government’s strategy may
sometimes seem, the cause and effect has been fully mapped, and it is certainly
not something drawn up on the back of a napkin at Rockpool Seafood Restaurant
over a few glasses prior to a helicopter ride home to Double Bay. The reality is not casual - it is much worse.
The question that naturally arises from Alison’s argument is as follows:
why would any government, especially one from a party nominally interested in
economic prosperity (at least historically), want to smother a sector
that is seemingly performing so efficiently and productively – employing so
many people with so little government expenditure? The answer to this question
lies in their overall electoral strategy, which involves marginalising target
groups and decimating their influence on the political narrative.
Removing the real
opposition
Among the greatest threats to the Australian government at the next
election is the potential for communities and collectives of critical thinkers
to collectively emerge in opposition to it and form coherent counter-narratives.
The money from Arts Council Grants is one of many methods of support and growth
for these communities and can indirectly feed critical public dialogue. The free time that
people from these communities have to be active – many of which, it should be
noted, are still in fledgling stages and are still defined by individualism, career-driven and institutional objectives –
is removed when you starve them of money. Furthermore, cherry-picking certain
artists to receive funding allows the government to distribute the flow of
finance only towards those artists which are not likely to even inadvertently feed
this community. The comments from the CEO of Opera Australia, Craig Hassall,
that he was “delighted” and that “my first thought is that I am relieved and
delighted that major performing arts companies' funding hasn’t been cut […] I
don’t really have a view on where the money comes from, as long as the
government is spending money on the arts” should be read in this light – further,
not only will Opera Australia benefit
from the changes through its funding being maintained, it will directly benefit
from the removal of its primary competitors in the marketplace, which includes
small and independent organisations thriving on some sense of collectivity,
community and solidarity. Furthermore, the beneficiaries of the cherry-picked
funding – Brandis’ own Artists Army if you like - are likely to be
classically-trained artists from wealthy backgrounds, who include most of
Australia’s opera singers, it being an expensive activity, further benefiting
from another individual source of funding.
It should be noted that these organisations are probably
not even that pro-government (Opera Australia might be the exception), and are
in fact no doubt hoping it blows over as soon as possible
whilst not affecting their audiences or artistic freedom, and without
them having to take risks. However,
they have never been faced with a government as ruthless as this before, as Australian
conservatism has until now been comparatively benevolent, and are thus understandably
confused about how to stand up to what is a new level of divide-and-conquer. Suspicion should
be aroused when massive structural changes such as this appear in the media hand-in-hand
with strange ‘good bloke’ narratives – for the Arts Minister, this was some
selective quotes the likes of ‘but I’ve seen him at my arts events in Katoomba,
and he’s a great supporter of the arts’. For Abbott in the Aboriginality Lifestyle
incident it was ‘yeah but he comes and visits the communities. He really cares
and understands’. In both cases, the actions are presented as mere innocent, naïve
mistakes, departures from the norm, even used to paradoxically reinforce the politician's good character. John Howard’s benevolence was a charade,
maybe, but one that the Abbott government largely doesn't bother with to a great degree. It’s most remarkable feature is ironically the
one championed by Julian Assange from his room in Great BrEcuador: transparency.
A new possibility
outside of the obvious
The challenge for artists here is only partially about the
actual budget, or indeed arts, at all. The reality is a much broader, much more devastating shift. Brandis has stated that one of the
directives to come with the budget changes is that institutions receiving
government funding will not be able to also refuse corporate funding. This
position is formed directly in response to the increasing politicisation of
arts funding, a global movement brought to Australia in a major way by the
group of artists who boycotted the Sydney Biennale last year due to its ties to offshore refugee detention, and which also
brought out some strange comments from ministers about art - Malcolm Turnbull
stating that the artists were guilty of ‘vicious ingratitude’ for their
statement, and joining a long line of anti-art politics made by ministers of
late to gain political capital at the expense of public misunderstanding about how art functions. In light of this, the senate inquiry from the Greens, crossbenchers and Labor is absolutely
a masquerade – there is little chance this will have any effect other than
watering down a radical centralisation of 50% of the major body's arts funding into one that is just a radical 40%, and for those parties to gain some political capital
to use at the next election, placing the community of artists in their pocket
for later employment. The senate inquiry will affect the bells and whistles of
the policy, but not its underlying philosophy, which can only be addressed
through sudden and brave changes in how Australian artists collectively organise,
communicate and cooperate. This is clearly an opportunity for artists to come together with
other marginalised groups and make the argument for art amongst other things,
but furthermore, to build permanent, better networks and communities less focused on
individualism and competition until now so inseparable from the Australian
psyche. In this, there is much wider potential for a major shift that will affect change on a broader scale. This is the real challenge affecting artists at this moment.
Until the eventual disappearance of the Abbott government,
the deafening silence from Australian major cultural institutions either individually
or through AMPAG will symbolically stand for a much wider silence. Unfortunately, leaving the dirty work
to those disparate entities affected by the changes will only lead to greater divisions in an already polarised Australian society. The opportunity for these institutions to stand for anything meaningful within this context has now passed, but paradoxically this represents an opportunity for individual artists and small organisations to produce a wider shift in the balance of Australian culture and life - by being the ones who come to stand for autonomy, equality, and community.
Alison Croggon's statemnent to the Submission to Senate Inquiry into the 2014 and 2015 Arts Budgets is available here.
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