In early April, as the City of Boston became an escalating COVID-19 “hot spot,” Mayor Martin J. Walsh’s office responded with forceful measures on many fronts. In the midst of extreme circumstances, on April 3, the Mayor’s Office of Arts and Culture (MOAC) also announced the fourth cohort of artists-in-residence in its Boston AIR program. The program pairs local artists and staff from City of Boston departments to co-design projects that test new approaches to City policies and processes and that often address the social and political context of that year. In the years ahead, municipal and county government officials face unfathomable challenges in recovery and reconstruction stemming from COVID-19. Programs such as Boston AIR and Los Angeles County's Creative Strategist Artist-in-Residence have demonstrated that artists working in partnership with government are essential workers who bring creative practices and solutions to issues that municipalities face. Local arts councils and commissions often play a big role in conceiving and coordinating these programs in tandem with local government.

We all know that the arts can be seen as superfluous, or non-essential, especially in times of crisis or economic hardship. This was certainly the case for the small, working-class community of Elysian Valley (aka Frogtown), a mixed-use neighborhood along the Los Angeles River in the center of the city. In the middle of the last decade, residents of the area (with a mixture of Latino and Asian ancestries) co-existed uneasily with a small group of artists and craftspeople who (sometimes illegally) occupied the former manufacturing buildings lining the river. The relationship between the two groups was non-existent at best, and full of suspicion at worst. In 2006, a small group of artists, architects, and craftspeople came together to create the first Frogtown Artwalk. The event was intended to bring together and to support the creative group of individuals operating “in the shadows” of the area. The initial Artwalk, held in November, was small, underlit, and sparsely attended—nevertheless, an arts community was born.

Cities are in trouble. A new report by the U.S. Conference of Mayors and National League of Cities—The Economy and Cities: What America’s Local Leaders are Seeing—shows that effectively every city, county, and town in America is expecting a budget shortfall this year. “[The] coronavirus will have a staggering impact on municipal employment,” notes the report, with about half expecting layoffs or furloughs. Depending on population size, 50% to 75% of municipalities will cut public services—and more than half expect that to include police. With cities facing their most severe budget headwinds in generations, every sector of government can expect to be scrutinized to gauge impact on the community, including the nation’s 4,500 local arts agencies (LAAs)—arts councils, arts commissions, cultural affairs departments that lead, cultivate, and support an environment in which arts and culture can thrive. They ensure vibrant and accessible arts experiences for all. LAAs are an essential tool for local leaders as they work to rebuild their economy and promote social cohesion in the wake of COVID-19. Here are 10 reasons why investing in LAAs benefits everyone.

We need to celebrate the important work that artists do every day. They imagine creative courses to solve problems. They create welcoming spaces to exercise cultural and civil rights and to challenge the status quo. They orchestrate rituals of spiritual and emotional healing. They configure single words, movements, marks, sounds to make meaning, purpose, and full-on expressions of beauty that remind us of the most fundamental things we humans share. Especially now, as we strategize to ensure that artists are supported and integrated into COVID-19 recovery and reconstruction, we need ready stories of their unique contributions substantiated with the real impacts of their approaches. Beginning with this post, a new ARTSblog series will celebrate the 11 music artists who were the exemplary nominees for the 2020 Johnson Fellowship for Artists Transforming Communities. Vastly different in their artistry—from classical orchestral work and blues, gospel, and American roots traditions to punk rock, improvisational, and genre stretching forms—each artist in their own right is advancing community, civic, and social goals.

Cultural space doesn’t just live in traditional retail space. Cultural space is born where culture thrives. While on the surface it seems that four artists created the Black art center Wa Na Wari, it is actually the continuation of the legacy of Frank and Goldyne Green, who were cultural space activists before there were words for this type of work. We don’t always think of our family homes as cultural spaces, but this Green home, and their other five properties, operated in this way. After the passing of Frank Green, artists Inye Wokoma, Jill Freidberg, Rachel Kessler, and I wondered what it would mean to rent it for a year as a cultural center. This social practice project was about the act of reclaiming so much of what has been lost in Seattle’s Central District. Our formerly redlined neighborhood has experienced drastic gentrification and displacement of our Black community. A neighborhood that was at one time 80% African American is now less than 10% Black. Wa Na Wari explores what it means for Black people to reclaim space in gentrified communities. Wa Na Wari is an art house and a community organizing effort. It is a model for how black homeowners can stay in their homes while also convening around black art. 

On this last day of National Poetry Month, we have a special gift from musician and composer Hannibal Lokumbe, whom Americans for the Arts is proud to honor as our 2020 Johnson Fellow for Artists Transforming Communities. Hannibal composed this poem out of intense concern for the dire moment that all humankind is experiencing and the many people we hold dear. It was inspired by a recent dream in which his mother appeared holding her hand silently over her heart. As we ache for the breath, the embrace, the embodied presence of family, friends, and colleagues, Hannibal’s words remind of the enduring power of the spirit and heart to connect us in this time of physical distancing, duress, and loss. I leave you in the hands of Hannibal’s loving heart. 

“We own what we make.” That’s the watchword of a national grassroots-to-grassroots coalition called Performing Our Future, which we both help lead. It unites communities across the country who have spent generations resisting economic exploitation—who historically have not owned what they make—and who have long been set against each other along racial, political, regional, and rural-urban lines. How have these communities come together? Through the work of cultural organizing. Cultural organizing is not the same as conventional community organizing or activism. Conventional community organizing and activism typically work from deficits: identify what’s missing in our communities, find and mobilize the people who agree with you, call out the inequity and injustice, and fight the bad guys. In the coalfields of East Kentucky and the inner city of West Baltimore, where we work, this usually means “organizing around” problems like unemployment, drugs, or disenfranchisement. Sometimes a meeting might start with a poem, or a protest might include beautiful puppets. But that’s still not cultural organizing. Cultural organizing is more than activism-plus-art.

Sometimes the source of our perceived needs is shielded, just to remind us of the greatness we take for granted and get us to yearn for something regular again. For many, that greatness is integrated in art, through creation and sharing. The brilliance of the solar system and the access to the sun is something we all share. Despite the classes we put ourselves in, despite the prejudices we choose to uphold and create, our sun is seemingly the same. It is a reminder of a new day beginning and, ready or not, another chance to be. My biggest lesson from the excessive alone time and relaxation of busyness is that though it seems many things are inaccessible, I still have access. I can still create, think, make mistakes, and breathe. 

In 2018, Los Angeles County’s Board of Supervisors voted to transition LA County’s long-standing Arts Commission into the County’s first-ever Department for Arts and Culture in response to the growing and expanding arts ecology. In a recent conversation, LA County Department of Arts and Culture’s Director, Kristin Sakoda, told us about the process. “There is culture in all people and all places—rich, cultural diversity; heritage; artistic practices; and traditions—but often unequal access, resources, recognition, and histories of support,” said Sakoda. “In a county as ethnically and culturally diverse and geographically sprawling as Los Angeles, the Department seeks to ensure that all the benefits of, and opportunities provided by, the arts are available and accessible to all residents, no matter who they are or where they live.”

In 2012, the GAR Foundation and Knight Foundation launched the Summit County Arts and Culture Initiative to better understand the strengths, challenges, relevance, and opportunities for the arts sector of Summit County, Ohio. The initiative marked the first time this type of work was done for or with the arts sector in the greater Akron area. As work progressed, it became evident a new organization was needed to meet the needs of Summit County, and in July 2015 ArtsNow was created to address the report’s findings and ensure the arts and culture sector is fully leveraged in finding solutions to community needs and moving the region forward. Nicole Mullet, executive director of ArtsNow, talked to us recently about the process and what the initiative discovered.

The coronavirus is having a devastating impact on America’s arts sector. Since the first U.S. case was diagnosed, cancellations and closings have been reported at thousands of arts organizations across the country, artists are posting high unemployment rates, and organizations are furloughing staff. Clearly this is a distressing time for the country with more uncertainty ahead. When the crisis does end, however, the arts should be looked to as an essential tool in both economic recovery and reconnecting our communities. Getting people out of their houses and spending money again will be key to jump-starting the economy (70% of the U.S. economy is consumer spending). The arts also will create opportunities to heal the isolation caused by social distancing and unify our communities. The coronavirus toll is heavy, but the arts can be our great asset in recovering from the crisis socially and economically. This is why doing everything in our power to bolster the arts now will make our nation stronger later.

Last year in Joliet, Illinois—inspired by a rising tide of creativity and arts stewardship—the city council recognized the need for a central, organizing body for the local creative sector and voted unanimously to establish the Joliet Arts Commission. If I can offer any word of encouragement for others looking to establish an arts agency in your community, it is that you are not alone. There is a network of folks across your state and the country who are doing this work, even if you are a solo act in your community. Joliet could not get this far this quickly without the guidance, support, and encouragement from our state and national local arts networks. About two years ago, I walked into a meeting in Galesburg, Illinois, and said, “Joliet wants to start a local arts agency,” and the resounding response was “Okay, how can we help!” I have found that people in these roles want to help you and are looking for opportunities to connect with you. Reach out, be humble, and ask questions.

COVID-19 has heightened the stress levels in lower-income families and put people in extreme survival mode. If you’re not on the top of the socioeconomic ladder, this is a very scary time with lots of uncertainties. Removing vital systems of support like school and community programs throws people into a fear-filled tailspin. We started doing a lot of arts integration work back in 2007 with a couple of different school districts, and we found that because of the shift in budgets teachers began teaching P.E. To support them, we build a hip-hop dance-inspired, web-based learning platform called PassToClass.com. Because of COVID-19, we offered free access to PassToClass.com to all our school partners as a fitness and creative expression resource for distance learning. We need to expand access as much as possible right now. Partnering with creative nonprofits that have tight community ties and boots on the ground means our under-resourced communities get the information and resources they need to stay safe.

Developing a pricing strategy in the arts requires as much art as it does arithmetic. And both parts are equally important. After all, the value of a creator’s work isn’t in the cost of the raw materials. It is in the experience, the expertise, and the skill added to those raw materials. And it is in the feelings, emotions, and experiences that affect the reader, or the viewer, or the audience member. But there is no math formula for that. There is no explicit mark-up percentage that captures emotion. It is subjective. So, I’m giving you permission to ignore math—not forever, and not completely, but just for a bit while we talk about a pricing framework to capture more than just the math.

With social distancing practices supported by many medical professionals and government agencies to help slow the COVID-19 pandemic, limitations on public gatherings are good for public health but can provide a challenge for public art administrators to keep projects on schedule. Generally, public art community engagement practices aim to build connections and strengthen communication with stakeholder groups related to a project’s location or themes, or as part of oversight for public art programs. Communities engaged through public art include residential groups, local stakeholders, arts commissions, and others; and canceling or postponing events may hinder the development of public art projects. This blog post aims to provide insight, resources, and recommendations to maintain community engagement for public art projects and programs as we all work to promote health and safety in our communities.