Posts Tagged ‘arts’

This evening on social media I saw an artist acquaintance giving up in despair: “…too demoralised by the drudgery of applying to committees for funding. I could not give a fuck about what adds value to communities, or promotes anyone’s wellbeing. All I need to do, all that satisfies me, all that keeps me alive, is beauty. I don’t make art to justify the existence of funding committees – I make it because I have to…”

I posted to her: If you stop then they have won. I understand a lot about why an artist (in any genre) can be made to feel like this… You at least have figured out how and where to do funding applications!

May I invite you to view this from a different angle? As creative people we are forced to work with many ‘brutal morons’ [her words]. They got that way because they didn’t have enough art of any kind in their young lives, they never learned empathy, never got stopped in their tracks by beauty – they had a set of grey, workaday values ground into them and they perceive creativity as some kind of cop-out, a soft option…

So part of our job is to educate the people we work with. I know, artists want to do what we’re good at – the art! – even so, I still think we do better in all ways by gently and warm heartedly leading our clients to better understanding of our work, and of others’.

Excessive behaviours

Historically, artists of all kinds contributed to the modern negative view. The 19thC rich kids getting off on laudanum and poetry, the precious flowers in their ivory towers… That wasn’t the whole truth but it’s the image that lingers. The 1960s wacky baccy brigades were fighting to experiment and evolve artforms but people remember the excessive behaviours and not the art. Creative people now are paying the price for all of that.

Creative people walk a cliff edge path: keeping the mind free enough to think beyond “normal”, and having to convince the money people that art is “worth it”.

I was involved years ago in a couple of completely useless arts projects that reached nobody, and taxpayers’ money was spent, and I felt deeply embarrassed (organisers failed to understand what their audiences would respond to, and completely failed to promote the events!) Because of multiple failures like this, and because of so-called austerity, arts funding has become almost impossible to achieve.

Make them feel

Worse, the general public either can’t afford or just won’t pay for art! If I as a non London nobody try to charge more than £3 a ticket, I face empty seats! But people will pay for what they see as “entertainment”, £40+ for West End shows with celebrities…

We have to deal with things as they are. We have to explain how creativity adds value to people’s lives. The raw fact that art is our reason for living doesn’t matter to the money people, or anybody else. We’re being challenged to make art that has an effect on people, and that’s good for our creative discipline.

In a world hurtling towards self destruction perhaps our last chance is in the arts. Creativity is the last way we can protest. Creativity is the last way we can grab humans and make them feel. I love what I do. I live for what I do. And  a little of what I do has a powerful effect, on people and in ways that I’ll never know. That’s why we must keep doing our art.

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Chloe of the Midnight Storytellers

Chloe of the Midnight Storytellers

I’m an entertainer not an economist or political expert. I’ve stayed out of the UK Referendum rows on social networks. But I have been looking at history … hearing feeble reasoning everywhere … and I see sensible people, people I hold dear, spewing out hatred…

I believe 23 June 2016 could the most important vote I ever cast. With all the unwisdom of my 55 and three quarters years, and knowing it’ll cost me friendships, I still want to say:

A friend posted on Facebook. “If you wouldn’t vote to join the EU today, why vote to stay?” Oh, gor blimey – look at the tottering, overloaded juggernaut of the EU. Asphyxiating in its own bureaucracy. Paralysed by its own layers of crazy regulation.

But voting to leave isn’t the same as not joining in the first place. Things have changed since 1975.

  • 100 years ago, millions of lives were thrown away in meaningless European conflict. And just one lifetime ago, Europe crawled out of its own wreckage and vowed NEVER AGAIN.

For some weird reason, among all the desperate stories of World War 2, I always think of sailors dying in the North Atlantic convoys: burning alive; lungs filling with oil; crushed under tons of metal and sea… weeping, screaming, screaming down into the dark…

If you have anything like that in your heart, you will not risk European peace and prosperity.

Because the UK leaving the European Union will subtly and fatally weaken it. Not in your lifetime, oh yes you’ll be all right, Jack; but your grandchildren could face what Syria is enduring now. Will you risk that?

  • From the faint traces of fact that have ‘informed’ this debate, and watching the decisions of public figures whose humanity and (or!) common sense I respect, I see that nobody can predict the full consequences of a Brexit.

I don’t drive around corners in the dark if I’m not sure the road is there.

Gut feeling based on months of observing the arguments: there’s enough doubt about leaving to make me choose to stay with the devils I know. Oh, and to get serious about chivvying my Euro MP – no idea, since you ask! But I will, oh I will! – out of their comfy chair and into reforming action.

  • I no longer trust a UK government of any party to act in the best interests of the people.

Look at the NHS, schools, emergency services, public transport, defence – everything that makes life safe and liveable: Thatcher’s, Major’s and Blair’s governments began the dismantling and Cameron’s crew have sped up the process. All hidden under “we’re giving you more choice”. Ssssptttt!!!

It’s the EU that protects pensions and working conditions. If you think your job is tough now, just wait until those European protections are stripped away.

  • It ain’t broke so don’t… Oh. Ahem. The European Union does appear to be at or near breaking point. It’s been described as “failing”. So this is no time to run away bleating about sovereignty! It’s time to get in there and be more bolshie and more influential. Or can’t British politicos and civil servants cut it any more?
  • If Britain leaves the EU, be prepared for a generation of racist, xenophobic madness to roar through our streets.

This insanity has guns and knives, and online social networks, and the infected ones are already crawling out of the dungheap. If Britain officially rejects ‘them furriners’ then gods help you if you have a dark tan, a funny accent, a foreign-looking name. And don’t dare speak up for those who do.

  • I have lived in France and visited Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal and a couple of Greek islands. Time was, they all just laughed at the Little England mentality. After a Brexit, the leading countries of Europe will, out of sheer spite – and to prove their point – bring down the shutters on UK/continental trade.

Imports will become extortionate. Exports won’t happen. There will be no ‘new deals’ with the EU for 20 years.

Can we replace our European business by doing more with China, India, the USA? Possibly. At a price. Because they’ll have us at their mercy. Will we deal (more) with those regimes and others – Russia? Saudi Arabia? – that are vicious tyrants to their people? Oh, I could get very detailed and very poetical about your food and your services coming from places where people are slaves, where women are less than slaves… or people… But hey, it’s all right Jack, you “want your country back”.

  • In self interest I must note that there will shortly be No More Money for the arts in Britain. Whatever June 23rd’s decision, austerity Britain is set to drag on. And on. They can’t afford not to. The only funding for creativity will come mainly from European sources.

Yeah, yeah, you hate opera and highbrow crap. You’re a pie-’n-a-pint bloke, or bloke-ess, yeah, right? Working class means no posh rubbish, right? BOLLOCKS TO THAT! The arts are for everyone – from Game of Thrones to sharks in aspic – and the more you learn about humans through different kinds of art, the better you’ll handle the stupidity and cruelty you face in everyday life.

By the way, I work office hours plus evenings and weekends so I count myself working class. Just paid less. (And I can’t cope with operatic singing.)

Humans need the arts. Britain without the gentler moments, the wry reflections, the sharp questioning provided by ‘the arts’ will be drab, inarticulate and vicious. Going backwards. D’you want that, for the people you know who shine with creativity? For your next generation?

People who want to Brexit want to run away from how hard it is to be European.

That’s not British.

Cheltenham Poetry Festival logoIt was a delight, dare I say even moving, to hear the poetry choices of Cheltenham’s election candidates last night at Cheltenham Poetry Festivals world first Poetry Election.

The town’s current MP is Martin Horwood, a Liberal Democrat. He won the Poetry Election with a pair of poems that included Shelley’s Ozymandias (‘Two vast and trunkless legs of stone…’) which stopped being a cliché when Martin explained the poem’s original, harshly political context: the Peterloo massacre, repressive Corn Laws and vicious poverty.

The event in the echo-ey vastness of Frances Close Chapel on University of Gloucestershire campus was very sensibly free, so nearly 100 people including the be-chained Mayor of Cheltenham and plenty of arty types packed the front pews to hear readings and a short debate. For an informal arts event in Gloucestershire, that’s an almost miraculously good house.
Other things were revealed. Only the Green candidate Adam Van Coevorden knew how to use a microphone. Labour candidate Paul Gilbert had thought about how the arts enhance education. UKIP newbie Christina Simmons didn’t seem to have an arts policy at all and put austerity far ahead of support for the arts. Martin Horwood vaunted the array of Cheltenham Festivals, quite reasonably on the basis of his involvement in helping to win funding for them. Everybody on the platform got stuck in to their poems with gusto, even indie candidate Richard Lupson-Darnell who confessed to loathing poetry at school.
Call it creativity…
But none of the candidates showed any real understanding of the arts world. Cheltenham’s wonderful Playhouse Theatre – that welcomes professional, semi pro and amateur performance in a way that some of the town’s posh publicly funded venues dismally fail to do – never got a mention.
Beyond the official Festivals, and a yearning for the long lost Axiom centre, the candidates clearly had no concept of working in the arts. If you call it creativity, by the way, the elitist overtone goes away.
Nobody spoke about how creativity – received or participated in – supports mental health, potentially saving the NHS fortunes as depression attains epidemic proportions in the UK. Nobody spoke about how millions of creative people in the UK today – dedicated, intelligent people who train to a high standard and who commit their finances, heart and soul to their work – are unable to make a living.
The thing that makes your heart sing
Nobody spoke about how ‘working in the arts’ carries such a stigma now that it’s almost better to be outed as a banker.
Nobody spoke about how most creative people must, for the whole of their adult lives, consign their talent to a mere hobby to be fitted around zero hours contracts, inadequate wages and exhaustion. If you have any spark of creativity in the UK today, but you’re outside the elite cliques of arts stars and large scale commercialism (film, musical theatre, video games) then all you can expect is sneering discouragement.
Your ability, the thing that makes your heart sing and gives you a reason for living – will be dismissed with a cry of “Get a proper job!”
Cultural desert
After 15 years working full time as a spoken word performer, and observing a wide range of theatre and music from the inside, I’ve concluded that Gloucestershire is a cultural desert where nobody wants to go to anything except the pub, and if they drag themselves to a show they certainly don’t want to pay more than the price of a pint.
Oh, all right, there’s a thin cadre of intellectuals who rather joylessly patronise opera, literature, smart exhibitions and the snob end of culture. Often nowhere near Gloucestershire, let alone Cheltenham or oh my goodness rough old Gloucester.
I could be wrong. It could be that 15 years battling the dead weight of indifference has skewed my view.
Last night’s Poetry Election showed that even politicians can be moved by – and can reach other people through – a thoughtful choice of poem.
But the cold truth in Cheltenham as in most of Britain is that the general public has no interest in what creative people can do. They don’t know, don’t care, don’t go. I’m good at only one thing: telling stories. I have to face every day knowing that very nearly nobody wants what I do best.
Story Cabaret entertainer, spoken word artist Chloë of the Midnight Storytellers

Chloë: new contemporary Story Cabaret

Notes

•  The Jordans Cheltenham Poetry Festival runs 20 April – 3 May 2015: from the world’s gloomiest poet (who will have you in stitches) to duck infested canal poetry, plus bands, hip hop and poetry for children.

•  Scheherazade’s Shed – the world première of my new contemporary story show for adults is Monday 27 April 9pm at Cheltenham Playhouse, ticket £7 or concession price £4. Please pre book from the Playhouse 01242 522 852

Cheltenham’s parliamentary candidates, in alphabetical order, are: