4:30pm.
That’s what the clock on the wall of the Kinko’s copy shop at Fourth and Congress reads. It’s Monday afternoon, March 15, and Austin artists from all disciplines are nervously standing over copy machines, trying to spur them on like jockeys speeding their horses toward the finish line. This race will be down to the wire. Paper is flying. Collations are checked. “Paper clips or binder clips?” is the question on people’s minds. To the stressed artists, most of whom look like they’ve been up all night, the employees of Kinko’s offer soothing remarks: “It’s going to be all right; I’ll get you another copy card.” “Don’t worry, you’re going to make it.”
No, this isn’t a performance installation or guerrilla theatre presented by one of the city’s many arts companies; this is guerrilla arts administration and the final 30 minutes before the annual City of Austin Cultural Contracts applications are due. The artists gathered at Kinko’s are there because it’s the closest place to the Cultural Contracts office where they can make the 20-odd copies of their applications that are due and then race them over by the deadline. They’re there making a final Hail Mary pass that must be caught if they’re even going to be considered for city funding for the next fiscal year.
Although the packet of paperwork seems straightforward enough — eight pages requesting information ranging from the ethnic make-up of the group applying to detailed budgets from the past three years — in no time at all these applications and their attachments become behemoths of submissions. Depending on the size of the group, applications can constitute more than 50 pages, and every single page needs to be copied, collated, and submitted (but not stapled!) for distribution to some 20 parties.
4:45pm.
The scene at Kinko’s is frantic. Reams of paper are sacrificed in the name of art. Panic flutters across one artist’s face as her paper runs out in the middle of the job. A paper jam in another machine causes a second artist to double over in anxiety. And, because the application explicitly asks applicants to clip the forms together, not staple them, loose pages are all over the store, pushing the confusion to a level that’s almost sublime. “Is that part of my application or yours?” asks one artist of another.
Picking up one or two of the loose pages, you can see why the artists have been up all night. The form is dense with detailed questions, and responses must be typed in neatly, with care taken not to exceed the margin limitations. Applicants must provide program descriptions (what they will do, when, and where); mission statements; and numerical assessments of staff, board, and audience. They have question boxes to answer — small spaces for the applicant to appraise last year’s successes and shortcomings, and to indicate how this year’s proposal fits with the criteria used to evaluate applicants, e.g., “How can you demonstrate your ability to fulfill the contract?” or “How are you making a valuable contribution to Austin Arts?” To answer these questions nimbly (three or four sentences at best) and give some sense of the individuality of the artist or group is tricky — superlatives fly.
Finally, attachments are requested: a one-page organizational history; staff and board r�sum�s (which can number in the dozens — and be hell to round up!); and for organizations with 501(c)(3) not-for-profit status, copies of the Internal Revenue Service letter granting such. Applicants may also add past publicity, letters of support, and other materials, which they typically clip to the back of the application in abundance — in the hopes of shining the most flattering light on the themselves when their project is reviewed by panelists and commissioners.
4:50pm.
The copying is done. Artists throw money at the Kinko’s staff — one not even waiting for change. They have rounded the final turn and are racing to the finish line on Barton Springs Road. A yellow parking ticket flaps under one artist’s windshield wiper — a telling reminder that time is rapidly running out, and penalties await if the application is not turned in on time.
4:57pm.
The sympathetic staffers at the Cultural Contracts office in the Dougherty Arts Center greet the artists with weary smiles. Close to 300 artists have made the exact same trek down their long corridor, some of them (to debunk the stereotype that all artists wait to the last minute) having submitted their applications a week before the deadline. In a process that feels like a cross between the security check at an airport and a bank transaction, the staff members ask artists to remove applications from any bag or box they might be in. Then, with a resounding “kachunk,” they stamp the date on the application: Received, March 15, 1999. The first criterion has been met: The application has been turned in on time.
To personalize the process, the staffers hand out stickers that read: “I turned in my Cultural Contract today,” with a picture of a man jumping for joy and clicking his heels together. The artists, however, look drained; no jumps are made, no heels clicked. Instead, they watch as their applications are taken to an adjacent room and unceremoniously filed away with hundreds of others. Carol Hayman at the Cultural Contracts office estimates a 33% jump in the number of applications this year, an increase she attributes to office outreach efforts. But while Cultural Contracts will have more money to distribute in 1999-2000, it is nowhere near a 33% increase, and the artists can’t help but feel a bit of despair: Will they receive anything even close to the amount they requested? Ahead of them lie months of reviews, meetings, petitions, and appeals. The race they just finished is no sprint but part of a marathon, and while it felt for a moment as if the game were over, they know it has really just begun.
5pm.
The Artists
The principal players of the first round — indeed, all rounds of the game — are the creative folks who submit the applications. Some of the artists applying for funding this year agreed to be interviewed for this series, and their progress will be monitored as they make their way around the city funding game board. During this first leg, we focus on the artists’ expectations: what they think they’ll get out of this year’s process.
Sam Coronado
Independent Visual Artist
Discipline: Visual Arts
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Coronado counts on Cultural Contracts for the project’s funding. “We’ve been fortunate,” says the artist, “that we’ve been getting a little bit more money each year. In terms of how many artists [can take part] or how many colors each artist is able to print or what supplies we’re able to get, it makes a difference.”
Coronado feels that funding his project through Cultural Contracts creates a win-win situation for everybody: the city, the artists, the studio, and the arts community. “We all benefit from this,” says Coronado. “That’s the positive end of everything and why it’s so important to the artists and everbody that requests funding. Art is a very unique situation — it’s something that we all need, but it’s not catered to by our institutions. It feeds our soul, not just our body.”
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Artistic Director, Stillpoint Dance
Discipline: Dance
Stillpoint, a company that produces new works of modern dance, has a relatively long history of applying for and receiving city funding (four years’ worth), so Fehrman is pretty comfortable with the process. In fact, Fehrman served on the Mixed Arts panel for three years, so she has a clear understanding of the game from two sides of the table: asking for and doling out the money. “I feel happy that [the money is] available,” she admits. “I’m grateful for it.” Fehrman the artist has realistic expectations for this year’s funding cycle: “As we’ve grown rather steadily, so has our funding,” and she expects the same this year. “When you get lots of money, the process is good; when you don’t, it’s bad, even though it’s the same process!”
Stillpoint recently became a nonprofit in its own right which should allow the company to reach out for more diverse sources of funding and, Fehrman hopes, relieve the burden common to small and mid-size arts organizations of depending on city funding. “It’s a good chunk of money that the city gives to the arts. But it’s frustrating because there’s so much art and so little money to [adequately fund it all],” says Fehrman. Ultimately, she adds, “I try hard not to let it affect me as an artist,” which may be the healthiest attitude for playing the game.
Joseph McClain
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Discipline: Music
McClain admits to being upbeat about ALO’s chances in the upcoming funding stakes. In early years the Opera saw wide fluctuations with its level of funding, but a trend seems to have emerged in the past three to four years: “It’s been much better these years,” offers McClain.
“The music panel is more harmonious, more inclusive; they’re looking at everyone equally, rewarding good performance.” As do all the applicants, McClain would love to see an increase in city funding for his enormous operation (over 300 people will put in time at the Opera, which has a permanent staff of 23, making it one of the largest arts organizations in Austin). Currently the money from the Cultural Contracts Program only covers about 3% of the total budget. McClain promotes rewarding organizations whose reach into the community develops greater arts attendance. For the Opera, such a rewarding equation is obvious, as it can reach tens of thousands of Austinites in a year. “If organizations are receiving money,” he asks, “are they doing what they say they are going to do? Are they delivering a product that reaches a large number of Austin citizens?”
Jason Neulander
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Discipline: Theatre
Salvage Vanguard Theater, which produces original, frequently experimental plays and seeks to develop a hip, young audience, was one of the highest scoring applicants (in the theatre panel) last year. Consequently, Neulander has become known as a wizard grant writer. The key, Neulander says, is that Salvage Vanguard “applies only for money from sources that we share common goals with, and with the city of Austin, we happen to share a tremendous amount in common.” Unlike many other artists, Neulander seems to enjoy the process of applying: “I think the application is very user-friendly. It’s a pain in the ass to fill out, but it doesn’t allow you to make a mistake. It’s a great way to learn how to write other grants.” And what has the Cultural Contract given Neulander and Salvage Vanguard? “Aside from the money, it has helped build our confidence and given us outside affirmation. It made us, as an organization, feel like our community really appreciated what we were doing and was willing to take us seriously. We would definitely be here without the Cultural Contract funding — we’ve never depended on money for what we do — but we certainly wouldn’t be as strong a company.”
Chinwe Odeluga
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Video and Poetry
Discipline: Mixed Arts
(Odeluga also serves as a panelist on the Literature Panel)
As a first-year applicant, Odeluga has spent the last two months taking a crash course in city funding. Applying for funding from the mixed arts panel, Odeluga’s project called Poetic Healings is a video that combines useful health information with poems written by lesbians of color that address health issues such as abuse, breast cancer, racism, sexism, and chemical dependency.
Besides being anxious about fitting the answers in the allotted space, Odeluga says, “The hardest part was having an idea — knowing what I wanted to do and putting it in numerical terms. To get the budget to coincide and not go over the $10,000 limitation for first-time applicants was the biggest challenge, because I had to reduce my idea to fit it into the guidelines while still keeping the project viable. I don’t believe the city funding is a gift, but I do need a reasonable start, so I’m aiming for a reasonable start.”
Of the application process, Odeluga says, “I was mentally and physically exhausted. After I got through with it all, I felt so proud and felt I could do this with more ease next year. Also, as I’m applying for other grants, this has been a good preparation, a good learning experience.”
The Other Players
Just like the artists, the panelists, arts commissioners, City Council staff, and Cultural Contracts staff also have expectations about the coming months. Some of these players have also generously agreed to be part of this series, and in future installments, their take on the game will be explored. For the time being, however, we will provide only brief introductions to the bodies they represent and who they are.
The Panelists
These individuals may play the most thankless role in the game: They make the intitial recommendations for funding allocations based on the applicant proposals, which means they invariably dissatisfy some of the contenders (there is only so much money to dole out, after all), and invariably have some of their recommendations overturned by the body to which they report the arts commission. Pinned between disgruntled artists on one side and dismissive arts commissioners on the other, an advisory panelist must be at once well-informed about the groups that he or she is judging and thick-skinned once the judgments are rendered.
The Arts Commissioners
Year-round volunteers charged with overseeing Austin’s burgeoning arts scene, the arts commissioners spend as much time with the various applications as the panelists, then get an earful at their June meeting when the artistic masses descend upon them to challenge their allocations and demand equity. Like the advisory panelists, arts commissioners are often caught between participants who are quicker to see their shortcomings than their hard work: artists and panelists on one side, councilmembers on the other. Still, the Arts Commission has remained a strong advocate for the artists, especially when there is talk from the city of altering the delicate balance of bed-tax money.
Chelby King
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As an arts appreciator, Chelby King found it easy to accept the appointment by Councilmember Gus Garcia to the Arts Commission two years ago. But her rapid rise to the commission’s chair has meant grappling with some big issues, such as how to fund individual artists and arts organizations. “Austin has a lot of stable organizations that need local support to keep that stability,” says King. “How are we going to balance those organizations’ needs with single artists’ work? And there’s an increase of artists because Austin is growing.”
She believes that she can help find solutions. “I think the number one thing I have going for me is that I’m able to clearly recognize what the issues are. As a commission, we’ve been able to break it down into these small issues that have to be dealt with and then address them head-on. That will lead to successfully addressing the problem — solving it in the eyes of everyone.”
King feels strongly that her work with the Commission has enriched her life. “I’m not an artist, but through my experience in working in the arts, I have been instilled with a great appreciation for what artists bring to the community. And I certainly want to be a part of the community and serve the community the best way I can. Gus Garcia certainly has given me a wonderful opportunity and I’m very happy to do that.”
Cultural Contracts Staff
This small, overworked group handles the bureaucracy of doling out and monitoring over $3 million to almost 200 local artists and groups. Besides fiscal oversight, this group deals with insurance, reporting, and answering the millions of questions to which the process gives rise.
Cecilia Cortez
Grants Administrator
Grant Administrator Cecilia Cortez has been overseeing the allocation of cultural funds for a year and a half, coming to the office staff after a brief stint as an administrator for La Pe�a Arts Organization. With a degree in creative writing and history, and experience teaching art, Cortez is suited to the job’s demands. And she likes the people she meets in it. “It’s interesting to see people who really are trying to share their art,” says Cortez. “Some are inspiring, some are locos, but it’s interesting to see how excited they are when they talk about what they are doing. They rarely get that opportunity to really talk about what they are doing, why they are doing it, and slowly you get involved in their progress, their dreams, and creations. It’s wonderful to put a face to the proposal and to see what has come of it eight or nine months later. Es bien interesante.”
Cortez expects a lot more work this year as the result of a series of workshops for new applicants that the office offered for the first time and the subsequent flood of new applications (about 70, as opposed to 15 last year). But she feels ready for the challenge: “We always strategize for what’s ahead and it gets easier every year.”
City Council Staff
The City Council approves the budget at the end of the summer, and it is a group of council staffers who sit in an informal panel to hear from artists and arts groups who feel they deserve more than the panels or Arts Commission gave them. This informal panel is composed of arts-interested individuals such as Paul Salda�a (informal leader), Richard Arellano, and Suzie Harriman.
Suzie Harriman
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City Councilmember Beverly Griffith
Harriman has a vested interest in the arts; she was a voice major in college, has been a singer-performer in Houston and San Antonio, and is an artist herself. A need for a career switch led her to Councilmember Griffith’s office, although she satisfies her passion for the arts with guest stints on local radio programs such as KUT’s Eklektikos, American Pop, and Femme FM. Her husband Randy is programming director at Austin’s terrific classical music station, KMFA.
Once she became Griffith’s executive assistant, Harriman was asked to take on all arts and music issues that come through the office. Her expectations? “I would like to see more equitable funding as far as performers go,” she says. In other words, reward artists and producers who put an effort into onstage diversity and don’t penalize them for being predominantly white at the board level. “The board should be out there raising money, not managing the organization,” she notes, so it’s less important that it appear diverse, so long as the organization is doing its best to include Austin’s diverse constituencies in its art and operations. “Community outreach is the key,” she adds. “Groups need to be doing something for the community in order to receive city money — it is taxes, after all,” that fund the groups.
This article appears in March 26 • 1999 and March 26 • 1999 (Cover).