Monday, April 29, 2013

Culture, Innit.





For the last couple of months, I’ve been involved with Birmingham 2022, a project connected with the new library of Birmingham. I’m one of about 15 young people involved with various creative industries have been recruited to partake in meet-ups and an intensive summer school, where we will curate and produce an online blog and print magazine for the Discovery Festival (which runs in tandem with the opening of the library in September).

Oosh, didn’t that sound pretentious and bullshit?! There’s a load more where that came from: prepare yourselves for a reflective post about my life aims, full of words like ‘determination’ ‘passion’ and ‘creativity’!

On top of just making the magazine, another aspect of the project is to look ahead, and discuss what the arts and culture industry is going to look like (particularly in Birmingham) in 10 years’ time. How it will be impacted by modernization, trends, technology, politics, and much more. To this end, we've spoken to a ‘trend forecaster’ (yep, told you to prepare yourself!) William Higham about how to predict cultural trends, and the last session was a ‘cultural meet-up’, where we held a discussion about arts and culture industry with a panel of people from various creative backgrounds: RuthClaxton (Director of Eastside Projects and practising artist), Noel Dunne (involved with an organisation that offers advice and guidance for Birmingham’s emerging creative talent), Dan Whitehouse (the Next Generation producer at Mac, Birmingham) and Katie Banks (Head of Education and Community at Town Hall and Symphony Hall).

So far, I’ve found this project to be a great little peephole into the world of arts and culture. It was interesting to meet people who have made their careers in such a precarious industry, and talk to them about how they became successful; what the realities of the sector are, and what they think and feel about the future.





I’m tempted to describe arts and culture as something ‘I’ve wanted to work in all my life’. But, apart from being an over-used and cringe-worthy phrase, I also don’t think it’s true. The determination to do something creative in the future has only really come to me in the last year or so; since going to the States. Only recently have I managed to shake off some instincts which I think are especially ingrained in my generation. Being born at the tail end of Thatcherism meant that we were brought up seeing the mass-firings and downsizings of the 90s as normal procedure. Growing up, we knew that profits were king; that workers were replaceable, and quick hirings and firings were a company’s right; that to make money, you had to get an impeccable skillset tailored to a specific profession, because unique talents are pointless. So no, I didn’t have a lot of drive to be creative. More an anxious scrabble to discover perfect office role for me, one I just couldn’t have heard of yet.

Since the 80s and 90s, ‘corporate’ seems to have become in itself a compliment; a byword for ‘efficient’ and ‘good’. The financial crash happening the year we took our GCSE’s, and the UKs austerity measures being introduced the year we did our A-Levels, meant our schooling too, emphasised in us the importance of getting a ‘real’, ‘paying’ job, and encouraged us to see stable industries like banking and business (ironically) as the only viable sector. Because despite the crash, they still made the most money. Even now, despite not claiming any welfare, and being able to afford to do exciting, voluntary positions, I still feel a slight sense of guilt, and of uselessness, if I’m not earning. Arts and Culture seemed to me to be this amazing working environment, but never something to aim for. For people growing up shit-scared of not having any money at all, an industry where actually earning a living from your profession is one of the biggest obstacles made it an unthinkable career option.

 After talking to these professionals about the fact that you will do many different jobs, and your career will change direction many times, the precariousness of the sector no longer seems to me like a price to pay for doing what you love, but part of the beauty of it. Switching jobs on a regular basis, and working within many different but interconnected industries (literature, theatre, tv, film, dance) appeals to me much more than any definitive career path. Since I left BAB, (effectively officially shutting the door on international business) I’ve been looking for an alternative option. I’ve been desperately looking for one profession that I love so much that I would never consider doing anything else. Because that level of passion seemed to me to be what you need to succeed in your chosen workplace. But there isn’t one thing that I want to do rather than anything else at all. I find it all exciting. For many people, this is the problem with working in arts. It’s not a 9-5 job, with a set pay rate. It’s not safe. Since running away from rubbing shoulders with CEOs in a cushy 9-5, this aspect now offers me a fantastic kind of freedom.

Just because I find a happy autonomy in the fact that arts and culture workers mainly occupy multiple jobs on short-term contracts and are unlikely to have regular income, does not mean I’m going to paint it as some hidden perk of the industry, if only you look at it from a slightly different angle. I would not consider it to be an objective advantage. I’m not going to gold leaf shit. I’m not a politician. Although I can’t help thinking that sometimes, having a similar environment in some of our more prominent industries wouldn’t be the worst thing. Imagine if every future hedge fund manager had to ‘pay their dues’, and spend 5 years doing accounts for welfare-recipients and the unemployed; getting paid pittance and travelling from job to job in a 1986 ford escort, occasionally having to busk on the streets as a human calculator for petrol money. Really demonstrate their passion and commitment to banking.




The biggest problem with there being so little employment and money circulating in arts and culture, is that (as was pointed out on our panel) it means that only a fraction of the population can afford to properly commit to it. In our session, when we thought about the future, and the impact of austerity (which generally means a cut of around 50% in most councils) on the arts, a few panelists chose to emphasise the advantages of this. I don’t deny that with less government help, there will be an exciting rise in a more DIY approach to things like theatre, exhibitions, and other cultural events. Without access to as many venues for example, people will no doubt find creative alternatives. With less funding, also comes greater scope to be experimental. If you have the money, that is. I couldn’t help a slight nervousness from creeping up on me when we talked about arts and culture becoming more entrepreneurial. Surely, there is a flip-side to this, free, experimental, DIY arts scene we are envisioning. Businesslike, profit driven arts and culture do already exist: the X Factor, Twilight, Crazy Frog. I personally feel like I’m already seeing a rise in repeats shown on prime time BBC…

Perhaps we just have to accept that times change. Arts and culture will always find funding. Perhaps emerging young artists will have to adapt to a more American model for financing themselves. In London too, artists could clear out their workshops once a month, hire a bad DJ, splash some UV paint around and shower everyone in PBR for a tenner entry. Or maybe it is time to stop gold-leafing shit. I’m still waiting for our generation’s punk or Spitting Image. A bit less positive thinking and a bit more anger may be just what we need. 





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