Showing posts with label the guardian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the guardian. Show all posts

Saturday, 18 January 2020

The agony of weekend loneliness - Paula Cocozza in The Guardian

To all those who spend the weekend on their own, you are not alone. 


Please read this article.


To all those who spend their weekends with their family or partner, please read this article and think about those you know who may be alone, and consider doing something to include them, if only once in a while.




Wednesday, 28 November 2018

Should all art students learn to paint and draw?

In a new paper, What Happened to the Art Schools?, the painter and art critic Jacob Willer claims that today’s fine art degrees do not offer the necessary teaching to produce exceptional artists. Painting and drawing have come to be seen as “no more than art’s old ceremonial vestments”, he writes.
Willer, who visited art schools around the country, says that while the odd talented student stood out for him, the general standard was “depressingly low”. “I would encourage you to look back through the UCL collections to see the quality of paintings that students at the Slade were routinely making in the first half of the last century and you will see for yourself how things have changed,” he says.
Willer goes on to suggest that in order to restore standards, higher art education ought to focus once again on craft and life drawing. But, he says, since current teachers would mostly not be capable of teaching painting and drawing – “because most of them know nothing about it” – the best way for students to develop would be to spend time appreciating old masters such as Titian and Rembrandt. 









https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:B320_Rembrandt.jpg
Teaching practices at art schools have indeed changed over the past few decades. The foundations of today’s schools were laid in the 60s, when local colleges merged to create tertiary-level art schools and polytechnics, where students could receive a diploma in art and design and were increasingly treated more like artists than pupils. But there have been significant political and cultural shifts since. The 1992 Further and Higher Education Act, which saw polytechnics and independent colleges become universities, left formerly independent art schools to grapple with the same issues universities do – most notably the rise in tuition fees. Variety became necessary in a crowded market.
Unlike Willer, many believe that these changes have not been for the worse. For Michael Archer, professor of art at Goldsmiths University, art schools’ approaches have become less prescriptive, drawing on a growing range of traditions and cultures. A return to a technical focus on painting and drawing would be restrictive, he says – and “completely misguided”.
Richard Talbot, head of fine art and professor of contemporary drawing at Newcastle, says weekly life drawing classes are held for any student who wishes to go, “but it’s important to expose students to a wide range of staff and practices”. Talbot models the course on his experience at Goldsmiths during the “70s heyday”, when he and his contemporaries were free to explore their interests without any restrictions. He follows this open-ended approach while offering his students a variety of practical workshops on specific skills such as developing your colour palette, priming a canvas and applying paint. “We’re not saying ‘you have to know this’ but instead, ‘this could be really useful for some of you’.”
Tutors point out that an exposure to various media and traditions shouldn’t come at the expense of a technical education. 
Courtesy of Guardian News & Media Ltd

Thursday, 31 May 2018

How do human voices work? - podcast

What makes our speaking voices so distinctive and so recognisable? How can we transform the way we use our voice?


This podcast was produced at the time of the This Is A Voice exhibition at the Wellcome Collection. This Is A Voice is also a book by Jeremy Fisher and Gillyanne Kayes offering 99 exercises to train, project and harness the power of your voice.

In the podcast, Jeremy and Gillyanne join Nicola Davis in the studio along with Steven Connor, professor of English at the University of Cambridge, who has written extensively on the history of the voice, sound and music.

Sunday, 1 October 2017

Hatton gallery to reopen after £3.8m refurbishment

This article in the Guardian outlines the importance of the Hatton Gallery and reveals some of what we have to look forward to when the gallery reopens on Friday.




A gallery that contains what for some is the most thrilling, important and influential piece of postwar modernist art ever made in Britain is about to reopen after nearly two years of closure.

The Hatton gallery, founded in 1925 and part of Newcastle University, has undergone a £3.8m refurbishment ushering in what should be a new era. While the gallery is internationally important, it has for decades been hard to love and difficult to find.

It will finally reopen to the public on Friday next week with an exhibition exploring the role Newcastle played in the rise of pop art. But for many art lovers, the chief draw will be the chance to see Kurt Schwitters’s restored Merz Barn wall, a modernist masterpiece that was rescued and installed at the Hatton in 1965.

The 20-month redevelopment, funded by the Heritage Lottery Fund, has created bigger spaces that are airy, bright and pleasant – a far cry from the old Hatton. “There were no environmental controls; the lighting was terrible,” said Richard Talbot, head of fine art at the university. “The fittings were such you couldn’t even get the bulbs for them.”

Julie Milne, chief curator of the city’s art galleries, recalled the complaints from visitors. She said: “Most of the feedback we got was about the gallery’s gloominess. There were wires all over the place and lumpy walls, which were difficult to hang on. Intrinsically, the building is beautiful – it was just very shabby and run down.”

In the days before instant access to maps, the gallery was also difficult to find, something that has also been addressed by better signage. “It has been a real problem,” said Talbot. “We’ve had meetings for years talking about it, but it is a lot more visible now.”

The lack of proper environmental controls often meant borrowing works for exhibitions was tricky. It also posed huge problems for Hatton’s star work, the Merz Barn wall.

The wall was created by Schwitters, an artist who is today considered a giant of modern art. It is based on the idea of collage, with found objects incorporated with paint and plaster swirled in to the wall to create an artwork that the Observer’s Rachel Cooke described as “part cave painting, part modernist fantasia.”

The wall is from his dadaist Merzbau project, one that dominated Schwitters’s life. He created his first Merzbau between 1923-33 in his family home in Hanover, but it was destroyed by an RAF bomb in 1943.

Courtesy of Guardian News & Media Ltd
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Friday, 8 January 2016

Super slides are the slippery slope into art's babyish new era

Some evidence that my dissertation topic is timely 

From London’s looping Orbit slide to a giant Czech mountain ride, art is becoming a theme park for the selfie generation 

Jonathan Jones, The Guardian
Tuesday 5th January 2016


"I went sliding on a mountain in the holidays. In mud. My family and I set out for a gentle Christmas walk in Wales that became an unplanned mudbath after we climbed a rocky riverbed in search of fossils and ended up stranded and soaking on a steep mountainside. We were trying to pull ourselves up by tree trunks but kept sliding down again and again as the sun started to set.


A new attraction in the Czech Republic offers a similar experience – but one that is planned and safely designed and won’t leave you covered in mud. The Dolní Morava Skywalk on the Králický Sněžník mountain includes a giant slide that’s clearly inspired by the artist Carsten Höller. Not only can you see spectacular vistas of the surrounding peaks while making your way nervously along a glass-bottomed skywalk, but you can slide in the sky. 

It’s a big year for art slides, it seems. Höller himself is wrapping a giant slide around the spiralling Orbit tower in east London. He was invited to do so by its co-creator Anish Kapoor. Doubtless it is hoped that an exciting art slide will help increase visitor numbers at the attraction, where it has been claimed low ticket sales led to losses of £520,000 in 2015.

If in doubt, install an art slide. From the Czech mountains to Stratford, slides are now defined as both fun and cultural. Art is turning into play, and play now seen as a noble cultural goal for adults as well as children.

But the rise of the art slide (last summer also saw Höller’s creations turn the South Bank into a funfair) shows how some of our deepest cultural values are changing. High art has always been an introspective affair, from looking silently at paintings in a museum to sitting quietly to listen to a symphony. It is about contemplation and absorption. Two people can read the same book and talk about it afterwards, but the act of reading will still be a solitary experience.

Today, we seem to fear such solitude. Art slides are typical of the age of oversharing. It’s not enough to look quietly at art. We need to slide on it, climb over it or talk to it, then share selfies of the experience with as many online friends as possible. The privacy or shared tranquility of artistic contemplation is being trashed by an age that can’t stand being alone. 


Going into nature for real, or sitting in the Rothko room at Tate Modern, are the kinds of cultural adventures that take us to new planes and new places. They can be shared, but mustn’t be overshared. When all our most intense experiences are reduced to art slides and skywalk selfies, I’d rather be lost in the woods."

Read the full article here

Monday, 21 December 2015

Lygia Clark at MoMA review – playing cat's cradle at the edge of art

Knowing that I am in the process of writing my dissertation, (its working title is An exploration of play in contemporary art), I was sent a link to Adrian Searle's review of the Lygia Clark retrospective at MoMA in The Guardian

It mentions some of the things that are included in my dissertation such as the relationship between audience interaction/participation and play

Lygia Clark at MoMA review – playing cat's cradle at the edge of art

"The Brazilian artist, who died in 1988, was a complex figure, and her life and art followed a convoluted trajectory. It took her from being a painter and leading figure in the Brazilian neo-concretist movement, an offshoot of European constructivism, to becoming a maker of abstract sculptures that were as much propositions as fixed objects. These wonderful plays between the organic and the geometric, between form and formlessness eventually led her away from art altogether, and towards what she came to regard as a kind of therapy, in which objects took the place of speech and gesture.



At various points in the exhibition you can play with replicas of her Bichos (Creatures) which mimic how her larger sculptures were made. As you play with them these small hinged forms flip-flop and fold this way and that. They have a nice weight, and handling them feels a bit like doing card tricks. However, as you turn the articulated metal planes the results always have a jazzy, spiky sort of life. Unlike a card-sharp's sleight of hand, there are no wrong moves here. Putting her art in the hands of her audience, Clark allows us to play out their variations in unpredictable ways.




Other sculptures are more like architectural models for imaginary dwellings. Even when she worked with nothing more than matchboxes – open, closed, piled up, painted – she worked through their repertoire of possibilities. 




Gallery attendants are showing visitors the correct way to handle more of Clark's later objects: mirrored spectacles to be worn by two people; clear plastic envelopes containing water and shells, or air and ping-pong balls. Play doesn't always need to have a purpose. Yet there is something here that has a lot to do with sculpture, with touch, balance and physical coordination. A whole world seems to be here, caught between the density of the stone and the weightlessness of the bag.

Why not make cat's cradles and webs of knotted rubber bands, to get yourself into a tangle? Elsewhere children are gluing paper into Möbius strips, which they twist around their wrists, and manipulating flexible discs of industrial rubber that have been cut to resemble spirals of thick, black orange peel. This is sculpture you can drape over your shoulder, or which can flop over a plinth or hang on the wall like the sloughed skin of some bizarre cold-blooded creature. What curious and compelling forms they are.

Whether this sort of thing actually takes us from passive spectators to active participants is moot. But we do get a feeling that the artist is following the consequences of her work to its limit, and beyond. The limit, for Clark, and for this exhibition, is the abandonment of art altogether, in favour of collective activity and ritualised interactions. We are no longer in a world of spectators and artworks, but in a place where the object – a plastic bag or length of hose – becomes a therapeutic tool, with a function and a use, however obscure it may be."


Courtesy of Guardian News & Media Ltd

To read the full review, visit:
http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/may/29/lygia-clark-review-art-moma-new-york



Friday, 3 April 2015

Mersey ferry gets the dazzle treatment from Sir Peter Blake

As part of commemorations for the first world war, the noted British artist has repainted a passenger boat in homage to anti-submarine ‘dazzle camouflage’

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/apr/02/mersey-ferry-peter-blake-dazzle-treatment-first-world-war

Mark Brown Arts correspondent

Thursday 2 April 2015

The Guardian


Seven ship painters spent 10 days covering a Mersey ferry in the reds, oranges, blues, yellows, pinks, greens, blacks and whites carefully specified by Sir Peter Blake and the one obvious thing now is that no one’s going to miss it.

“It is a crazy concept,” said Blake on board the ship he has now “dazzled” with wild colours and patterns. “They’ve done it so beautifully and it looks fantastic. It is very exciting to see it.”

The Mersey ferry Snowdrop has become the third vessel to be painted in this way in homage to the artists 100 years ago who painted British ships in “dazzle camouflage” to mislead German U-boat captains.

The organisation 14-18 Now, responsible for five years of art commissions marking the first world war centenary, estimate that 8 million people haveseen two contemporary dazzle ships that were unveiled last year on the Thames in London and on Liverpool waterfront. The Snowdrop is now the only one that will actually go anywhere.
Blake was chosen in part because of his long association with Liverpool, one that extends beyond his design for the Beatles album Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club band in 1967.

On Thursday Blake recalled his first visits to Liverpool 63 years ago when he was stationed in Belfast for his national service. “I used to get the ferry from Liverpool. It was an old cattle ship and one had recently sunk so people were nervous, obviously.

“I remember coming back from Belfast on a New Year’s Eve and it was really rough – it was full of Irish Guards, all very drunk, and lots of nuns terrified of the soldiers.”
In 1961 Blake won the prestigious Liverpool-based John Moores Painting Prize – “junior section”, he stressed – ahead of artists including David Hockney and Lucian Freud.
“I’m very proud of it,” he said. “I remember coming up on the train and having a party in my room at the Adelphi and meeting the Liverpool poets. It was pre-Beatles, they hadn’t broken yet, but there was a definite vibe in the city and great music going on.
“I do feel like an adopted son.”



The artwork, called Everybody Razzle Dazzle, is the biggest of Blake’s long career, but creating it was similar to doing a small watercolour, he said.

Working on a computer, he initially planned it all in monochrome but quickly realised it needed colour. “It has to be cheerful: it would have been dour in black and white really.
“I was slightly nervous that there might be some diehards who’d think I’d messed it up, they preferred the old livery. But I was very respectful of it: I checked things like whether I was okay to change the funnel.”

The plan is for the Snowdrop to have its Blake livery for two years. It set off for its first newly dazzled journey on Thursday with Bill Haley and the Comets’ Razzle Dazzle playing on a loop.

Not far away from its setting-off point is is a static vessel, the Edmund Gardner, dazzled by the the Venezuelan artist Carlos Cruz-Diez last year.

Liverpool’s mayor, Joe Anderson, said the city was proud to have great things in pairs: two great cathedrals, two great football teams. “We’ve got two ferries and I hope the other one will be painted as well ... I was told not to say that.”

The dazzle ship project shines light on a story largely forgotten today. During the first world war, professional artists would paint wild patterns on British ships to confuse the enemy. The idea was that U-boat captains would spot the ship but have no idea of what class it was, or if it was coming or going.

It was, Blake said, the invention of optical art and he had a great time following in the original dazzle artists’ footsteps.

Blake praised the painters at the Cammell Laird shipyard in Birkenhead who had done the hard work. “We came up about a month ago when they were still working on it. To see it today when it’s all beautifully cleaned and polished is terrific.”

Arthur Hardacre, who led the team of painters, said it had been a bit like a very big paint-by- numbers exercise. “It was no big problem really, it’s all paint.”

The result is magnificent though. “It is absolutely fantastic and it’s great that visitors to the Mersey will see such a colourful ship.”


The project was commissioned by the Liverpool Biennial, 14-18 Now and Tate Liverpool. 

Friday, 19 December 2014

Nick Forbes: we were whistleblowers for what austerity meant for the arts

Nick Forbes: we were whistleblowers for what austerity meant for the arts 

After the Newcastle upon Tyne council leader dealt with cuts, the city’s theatre companies have been forced to adapt or die


“We live in an age of cuts … We are a working-class town, that’s our strength – and in the current climate, our weakness.” So said the deputy leader of the council as he addressed the press conference. His task is to decide how and where to save £64m: Sure Start, the museum, libraries, disabled care, street lighting ...

This is not a scene from real life but from Hope, Jack Thorne’s close-to-the-bone play about local-authority cuts, which recently opened at the Royal Court in London. But Nick Forbes, the leader of Newcastle upon Tyne council, sounded uncannily like the drama’s main character when we met in his grand, 1960s panelled office in the city’s Civic Centre – its bold modernist architecture a remnant of a more confident age, before cuts of 44% from central government sent a chilly blast through its elegant courtyards.

“We’ve cut our play service and youth service,” Forbes said. “We have had to reduce the libraries. We have cut sport and leisure. We have reduced support for older people; we’ve cut bin collections; we’ve cut street cleaning. We have lost our flower programme in the city. We’ve cut graffiti removal. We’ve lost getting on for 1,200 cuts from the council.” Newcastle lopped £37m from its spending in 2013-14, £38m this year, and more is to come.

It also cut its cultural budget. In the autumn of 2012, the council published a draft three-year – instead of the usual one-year – budget, which projected a cut to funding for arts organisations of 100% from 2015.
Tommy Knight (Jake) and Tom Georgeson (George) in Hope by Jack Thorne. Photograph: Tristram Kenton/Tristram Kenton

Arts leaders in the rest of the country looked on anxiously: would other Labour councils “do a Newcastle” and declare culture an unaffordable luxury?

Cuts to local-authority grants felt like a last straw, for they came on top of a 30% reduction in Arts Council England’s budget, delivered in the 2010 comprehensive spending review by the then culture secretary Jeremy Hunt. The keynote of the coalition’s cultural policy has been this: austerity measures, combined with injunctions by Hunt (and his successors Maria Miller and Sajid Javid) for the arts to find more financial support through philanthropy.

Among those affected by Newcastle’s draft budget were Northern Stage, Tyneside Cinema and Live Theatre, where Lee Hall, the writer of Billy Elliot and The Pitmen Painters, learned his craft as a youngster. They were furious. Culture was being disproportionately targeted, they felt. Furthermore, a total cut could have meant Arts Council England pulling out of Newcastle, since its policy is that it will not act as a sole public funder in any area – a move that would have led to the collapse of most of the city’s main cultural organisations. A vocal campaign from the north-east’s artistic diaspora – Lee Hall, Neil Tennant, Sting and Pat Barker among them – swung into action with open letters and attacks on the council’s stance.

Two years on and the council has indeed removed culture from its budget, effective from April 2015. But, after an intervention from the shadow culture secretary, Harriet Harman, it found about £600,000 a year (skimmed off from interest on loans and dividends from Newcastle airport) to put into a new charitable Culture Investment Fund, to which arts organisations in the city can apply for grants. It is only 50% of the old budget, but better than what Alison Clark-Jenkins of Arts Council England has called “the symbolically and practically disastrous 100% proposal”, which would have meant “the closure of some of the best-known institutions in the country”. The new fund also aims to raise money from donations from individuals – following the thrust of Conservative cultural policy, which encourages arts organisations to aggressively pursue philanthropic donations.

Unusually for a Labour politician, Forbes is comfortable talking about his cultural hinterland; he told me how much he was looking forward to performing a baritone solo in a concert with a local choir (“singing keeps me sane”). But despite his personal attachment to the arts, when we met two years on he said he had no regrets about the row. “We were the whistleblowers for what the government’s austerity programme means for a range of services, but particularly arts and culture ... As often happens with whistleblowers, people didn’t believe us, didn’t believe the scale of the cuts. We faced abuse and criticism. [But] I still think it was the right thing to do.”
Maria Crocker (L) and Meghan Doyle from the Letter Room theatre company at Northern Stage.Photograph: Craig Connor/NNP/North News & Pictures Ltd

On the ground, it has been a case of adapt or die. Lorne Campbell is the artistic director of Northern Stage. One of his means of diversifying has been by harnessing the notion that “creativity” is itself a commodity. Over a pre-rehearsal coffee, he told me he hires himself out to lead workshops on creative management for business executives, raising about £50,000 a year, or around half a production budget. He would like to see the new Culture Investment Fund work – but pointed out gently, as did others, that his organisation has been energetically fundraising for years now.

He believed, he said, that a fundamental part of his job was providing a conducive environment for artists who want to make work in the north-east – their presence in turn enriching Newcastle’s civic life. But, he said: “That ecosystem is in danger of collapse. We are not many salami slices away from having to make a dramatic change to what we do.” What would that change consist of? He shrugged. “Producing a Christmas show every year cast with people who aren’t from here, and acting as a receiving house for productions from elsewhere the rest of the year. An utterly pointless exercise.”

Northern Stage provides, at present at least, support for young theatre companies. One such, Camisado Club, is made up of eight young performer-writers, all fairly fresh out of college, all “hellbent on staying in the north-east and making work”, according to company member Caroline Liversidge.

For these 20-something artists, the notion of a well-funded arts environment is, said Liversidge, “a myth – like: ‘In days of yore there was funding.’ ” She works five zero-hours-contract jobs to make ends meet, and fits her artistic work around them. Camisado Club’s first show, Send More Paper, about murderous wives in Hungary after the first world war, was a success, and had a short tour, including to London, but making it work was a struggle – they crowdfunded to get themselves to London, called in favours, sought support from friends and family. Getting the eight company members in a room together – when they are all working shifts to pay the rent – is an achievement in itself. Fellow company member Jamie Tansley said: “We are looking at ways we can sustain ourselves by charging for education projects. You not only have to make it work but become a business, and that’s a little scary. But we will find a way, because we have the hustle.”

Jim Beirne of Live Theatre. Photograph: Mark Pinder/Mark Pinder

Meghan Doyle and Maria Crocker are part of another young theatre company, the Letter Room, which has performed at Latitude, Bestival and the Edinburgh fringe. According to Doyle: “We made our last show on no budget and no sleep.” All accomplished musicians, they perform as a band to make money to support their main work. “It is hard,” she added, “devising, producing, making the website, performing, working our other jobs.” They are a determined pair, committed to staying in the north-east – where the flipside of the lack of funding is cheap rent and a feeling of shared artistic enterprise with their peers. “It feels like something is brewing in Newcastle,” said Crocker. But, said Doyle: “We can’t continue making work for no money. There is a point where you have to say, you’ve got to live.”

A spirit of enterprise is also at work at Live Theatre. When I visited in early 2013, I saw how the work of the 150-seat theatre was supported by a gastropub, the Broad Chare, and rental income from a set of offices converted from a schoolhouse. Its chief executive, Jim Beirne, had used his own “hustle” to make money. The Broad Chare makes Live £100,000 a year, enough for an entire production budget. The schoolhouse makes £35,000, enough for an education project.

Since then, Beirne has masterminded the purchase of more buildings clustered around the theatre, including a vacant plot that faces the Tyne. With the help of European funds and loans from the council, he is now running a £10m project that includes building a new office block to rent, creating an outdoor stage and park, and converting an almshouse into a children’s literary centre. The piling for the new offices is complete; the steel framework is due to rise in January and the structure should be built by September. “The point is to create an asset on our balance sheet that provides an income to spend on our mission,” said Beirne. Initially, the yield is expected to be £150,000-£200,000 per annum.

I asked Beirne what his background was – expecting him to tell me of an MBA or a career in business. He laughed. “I trained as a lute player and composer,” he said. Was Live in danger, I wondered, of being buffeted by competing values? Would its business concerns conflict with its artistic ambitions? Would Live become, to misquote an unfortunate advertising slogan adopted by the V&A in the 1980s, “an ace gastropub with quite a nice theatre attached”? He said: “It’s just a tool to deliver what we do. Of course we have to be robust about what we stand for and what our values are. If we didn’t do this, what the fuck else would we do?”

Thursday, 28 August 2014

Inspirational landscapes

I love getting recommendations from friends with artworks I should see, books I should read, films I should watch, places I should visit etc, and the sheer excellence at what they suggest shows how well they know me and how lucky I am to have such interesting friends.

The photos below featured in The Guardian's Culture section, and are truly breathtaking.

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2014/aug/27/rainbow-world-the-most-colourful-places-on-earth-in-pictures?CMP=soc_1944\

 Black Rock Desert in Nevada. Photograph: Jeff Foott

Dallol, a volcanic crater in Ethiopia. Photograph: Dr. Richard Roscoe

 The Grand Prismatic Spring in Yellowstone National Park. Photograph: Xuan Che/Getty Images

 Mustard fields in Yunnan province, China. Photograph: Katie Garrod/Corbis

 Rock formations at the Zhangye Danxia Landform Geological Park in Gansu Province, China. Photograph: Xin Ran/Corbis

‘The Wave’, a 190m-year-old Jurassic-age sandstone rock formation in Arizona. Photograph: Blaine Harrington III/Corbis

Please keep those recommendations coming!

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

What are artists really worth? Funding, friction and the future of art


As artists find themselves at the end of the cultural food chain, Susan Jones suggests a new activism to reaffirm their status

Three coloured tubes of acrylic paint 
 

The so-called golden age of arts funding has given way to debilitating austerity, particularly for artists who find themselves at the end of a long food chain, divorced from arts funding and policy decision making. But when did these divisions start and how can artists use activism to create meaningful change for the future?

The millennium saw arts funding increased through imaginative strategies and policies. Artists and the artist-led flourished. With the lottery-financed arts buildings came a new wave of curatorial positions – and in 2006, the advent of cultural leadership roles designed to "nurture and develop dynamic and diverse leaders to equip them for the challenges of the 21st century" (although scant few of these went to practitioners). Divisions between artists and the public were apparent too.

In 2013, the widening divide between rich and poor is manifesting itself clearly in the arts. Contributing to debates on more imaginative ways to measure cultural value, Louis Barrabas says: "The creative sector is full of scuttling scavenging bottom-feeders." What he's describing are the middle people whose infrastructural preferences over recent years have by default resulted in a steady nibbling away at budgets, resources and recognition factors – things that used to be the territory of artists.

In the arts infrastructure developed since the early noughties, artists weren't invited around the table with the curators, directors and consultants. Peer review was abandoned by Arts Council England as it was deemed too expensive, long-winded and subjective. In the arts ecology of today, it's almost as if artists have to be held in suspended animation, waiting for someone to need them.

Where has all the money gone?

In 1989 the salary of an artform officer in what was then a regional arts association pretty much matched the sum offered for an artist's fellowship, which in those days tended to be for a year. By 2004, the salaries of arts officers in the funding system (when index-linked) were 41% higher than those in 1989/90. Advertised in May 2013, an Arts Council England salary for a relationship manager in its London office is £31,623 – 8% higher than the equivalent pay in 2004 when index-linked. Consider this against an example of an artist's fellowship, such as the Stanley Picker Fellowship in Design & Fine Art 2013, which is paying £12,000.

Published in May 2013, Arts Council England's economic impact report by the Centre for Economics and Business Research shows that full-time earnings in the arts have risen by 6.8% in the past five years, while part-time earnings – one might surmise these to include freelancers and artists – have decreased by 5.3%. As Mark Robinson, a former ACE director and now arts consultant, asks: "Are we squeezing our key nutrients – the artists and creative freelancers – and widening inequality in our own sector?"

Our own a-n research indicated that in 2004, the exhibition fee for artists holding a solo exhibition in a major gallery was £1,000. In 2013, a new survey from AIR indicates that less than a third of artists exhibiting in publicly-funded flagship galleries in Arts Council portfolios are getting any fee at all – with £200 being the most likely figure. While the majority want to share their work with the public, nearly half the artists surveyed reported that it's simply too expensive to exhibit.

Another of our surveys, this time on openly offered jobs and opportunities for artists in 2012, revealed a steady decline in the volume of paid work for artists. In 2012, the overall value of work on offer to artists was £5m (20%) less than in the pre-recession year of 2007. Only 39% of jobs and opportunities in 2012 offered to pay anything to artists, in comparison with 57% in the recession year of 2008. And the value of residencies has dropped to an all time low, amounting to just over 1% of the value of all work offered in 2012. These paid an average fee of £2,600, in contrast to a £7,354 average in 2011 and £6,342 in 2007.

Art feeds the soul but who feeds the artist?

Artists are at the very end of the arts food chain. For artists and their practice, the future is littered with uncertainty for a variety of reasons:

• The variable length and terms of contracts and commissions
• The unpredictability of work offers and variable income
• The short notice of engagements and commissions
• The delays in the start of a production
• The sequential stop/start patterns of employment
• Managing concurrent projects and contracts
• The need to be available at all and/or unsociable hours for work
• Unpredictable locations of work
• Changes in fashion, cultural trends and market preferences

Artists seemingly love their practice so much that it's assumed they will be delighted with any opportunity they get to gift it to others. Increasingly, artists find themselves shoe-horned (through financial necessity or the arts PR machine) into making art or delivering projects, the efficacy of which are measured in terms of their instrumental powers – how well they serve the needs of others (achieve social improvement such as regeneration; uplift the lives of disadvantaged people; fill the 'arts gap' in school curricula; contribute to the economy).
As Hans Abbing commented in Why are artists poor?: "Although the arts can operate successfully in the marketplace, their natural affinity is with gift-giving rather than with commercial exchange. People believe that artists are selflessly dedicated to art, that price does not reflect quality and that the arts are free."

Negotiating your status and practice

So how might artists prepare for a different kind of role in determining the status of their art and their profession? Researching the conditions for collaboration, Chris Fremantle comments: "Artists very often see themselves without much power – is collaboration the context for a new dynamic between artists and those they seek to have relationships with, or at least a signal of hope for that?"
A symposium held in Stoke-on-Trent in 2011 explored working contexts for artists in an age of austerity. A manifesto was drawn up by artists and arts workers present, designed to create strength of purpose and solidarity amongst practitioners. The manifesto stated:

1) Be active: support each other
2) Be active: be an activist
3) Be active: be an artist.
4) Value yourself, your time and your skills
5) Share your knowledge and resources
6) Focus, strategise and plan.
7) Be critical, be fair
8) Know your rights

Reporting on the event, artist Nikki Pugh said: "It was notable that all the rules seemed to be independent of the current economic climate. The issues of prime concern to us were to keep making work of high quality; to be rewarded (financially or otherwise) fairly for our work; and to be part of wider, mutually and innovatively generous networks."

When only extended by the artist , however, this generosity can result in exploitation. Artists continually report lower or no fee offers from commissioners and employers. But institutional budgets exist to enable arts programmes to deliver 'great art' to audiences. Surely how they are constructed can be open to review, negotiation and reallocation?

For the sake of future arts, we really do need to demonstrate how much we value artists. The following statement (though made more than three decades ago and many miles from the UK) sums up why mutuality is vital: "Artists stand at the centre of all arts practice. Without the artist's ability to practice his/her own art, there is no literature, no music, no dance, no painting, no theatre, no film-making – no art of any kind."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture-professionals-network/culture-professionals-blog/2013/jun/24/pay-artists-funding-friction-future?INTCMP=ILCNETTXT3487

Monday, 17 October 2011

Glasgow's Turner connection

In today's Guardian Charlotte Higgins investigates why Glasgow keeps producing so many Turner prize winners and nominees? She asks, could it all be down to David Harding?



read the article here:

http://gu.com/p/32kzt