Arts: Anything But A Frill

by Sioux Browning

When times are difficult, jobs are tight and the economy moves like the worst roller coaster ever built, volunteer organizations become hard-up for funding. It's understandable; people and governments are reluctant to part with their rationed dollars for charities, festivals and fundraisers. Usually (and currently) one of the sectors hardest hit by funding cutbacks is the one that governs arts and cultural organizations. As a working artist -- a writer -- I am often engaged in conversations about the state of the arts. Many times I have heard the argument (paraphrased): "Well, the arts are great but they aren't as high on the priority list as other things. They're kind of a frill."

A frill. This makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. Then I spend some quality time with my therapist. Then I laugh some more. Not because I am an artist trying to make my way and not because I volunteer with organizations in support of the arts; no. I laugh because there are precious few elements of our culture that are not touched or defined by the arts.

If you think of an artistic endeavour as one that is concerned with theme, proportion, shape, mood, expression, possibly colour, and utility, then you will see how every moment of your day is touched by art. Let's examine a day. I get out of bed: sheets and bed and light fixture – no matter how inexpensive -- all designed by a designer. Same with the bath towel. I'm greeted by the canine, who sports a lovely purple polka-dotted collar, designed by a... designer. The spoon that holds my cereal was first sketched by an artist, then carved into foam, then carved into wood and finally cast into metal and mass-produced. The box holding my cereal -- the anthropomorphic critters, the colours, the lettering -- is courtesy of an artist. The car I get into was initially drawn and possibly carved by an industrial artist, who worked with engineers to find the best form and aerodynamic flow. The dashboard and seats are artist designed. As I drive through town, the work of artists surrounds me: graphic designers who created signs and banners, landscape designers who create lovely plantings, public sculpture, uniforms, buildings created by architects to be both functional and appealing. If I'm shopping, virtually everything I can buy (from flooring tile to footwear, teapots to men’s' ties) was conceived of or influenced by one or more artists. The magazine at the checkout is full of layouts and ads created by artists and writers. The fonts on the pages, the fonts on every computer, were designed by artists who considered the function, the shape, the weight of every letter.

On the radio, music by artists. On the TV, actors and dancers and set designers and costumers and writers. Even reality shows have set designers, musicians, editors and writers working on them. Watching sports? The fancy design on the goalie's mask, the team's logo, the music pumping up the crowd, the mascot's outfit -- all artwork. The halftime show and the cheerleaders' performances were all created by a choreographer. The clothes I wear, the lottery ticket I buy, even the colours I paint the walls of my house -- all artist generated. The logos on business cards, the special dishes created by chefs (culinary artists), any site on the internet all adhere to the principles guiding artists: theme, proportion, shape, mood, expression, possibly colour, and utility.

When pressed, people will say they would donate money for health care before donating money to the arts. And hey, I'm all for health care. I'm as accident-prone and rapidly aging as anyone. But let's say we all live long and healthy lives in a place where all the arts have tragically expired from neglect. What are we going to do with all that darned health? Not read, nor watch TV nor sculpt nor play board games nor even stare at the artwork on our walls.

The arts sustain our daily lives. Perhaps because they are so enveloping, so critical, they are over-looked. They seem like frills. But if we can't even get out of bed without brushing against the arts, they are not so very frilly.

Sioux Browning, President of Cranbrook & District Arts Council, is a writer and teacher.