BY TIM HANNAH
“In love and rage.”
That phrase is a common sign-off amongst activists. It aptly summarises the fluctuations between compassion and frustration that are the everyday experiences of many of us working in the not-for-profit or creative spaces.
However, until recently, I did not put much weight on the “rage” side of the equation: it’s not that I’m not angered, frustrated, and bemused by the almost constant stream of tragedy that lights up our screens. It’s that to me, compassionate advocacy seemed a more logical pathway forward when reacting to complex problems. But then, this week, Australia’s arts sector erupted in unanimous rage.
Compassionate advocates awakened to an anger that has been simmering under the surface. Paul Stanhope, one the country’s leading composers, succinctly summed up the communal despair-tinged exasperation: “What else can the fuckers do to us?”
What happened?
Politics as usual
Prime Minister Scott Morrison has just announced a restructure of the public service, including a shake-up of the Department of Communications and the Arts.
This in itself isn’t especially exciting, and probably wouldn’t have made headlines. The Arts has been shuffled around by both Labor and Liberal governments in the past. Before its current position alongside the Communications Department, it moved between the departments of Prime Minister and Cabinet, the Attorney General and the Environment. Nothing new here.
The difference this time is that the Arts hasn’t just been moved to new real estate. This time, “the Arts” has been completely removed from the name of the department.
In reducing the number of federal departments from 18 to 14, Morrison announced that the Department of Communications and the Arts will be combined into a new super-department: the Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Communications.
Following significant backlash and concern from artists and leaders in the sector, Federal Arts Minister Paul Fletcher has subsequently sought to calm the anxiety that followed this announcement, insisting that the changes will not impact everyday activities.
However, these changes do beg the question: How much room is there for the intangible, creative value of the arts sector in a department that is also responsible for national infrastructure, the rollout of the NBN, the ABC (and its impending restructures), and the development of regional communities currently on the frontline of drought and fire catastrophes?
Those in creative industries can be forgiven for being sceptical of this government’s good will. The sector is still in recovery following the Brandis-era funding cuts, as well as recently announced cuts to the ABC and reductions in the number of successful grant recipients in the small-medium sector. Even the now-outgoing head of the Department of Communications and the Arts was blindsided by this move, telling staff that not only were they not consulted on the changes, but they were barely given 24 hours’ notice.
Whilst this does not amount to an immediate change in funding for the sector, the prime minister has flagged further announcements and changes in the new year. With the May budget just around the corner, what this could mean is anybody’s guess.
It is hard not to see this restructure as an indication of the government’s priorities going into the new year.
Moving beyond economics
Many of the responses to this change have turned to economic arguments to underline the value of the arts in Australia. A figure quoted frequently in the discourse has been that the arts represent an $111.7 billion industry – a figure taken directly from the government’s own website.
This approach, whilst laudable and understandable (how else do you convince bean-counters that you’re worth something?), is also flawed. By turning to these siloed financial justifications, we are reducing ‘the arts’ to ‘entertainment’ and forgetting that so much of the value of what we do is held in the benefit art brings not just to the sector and its audiences, but to our society as a whole.
The arts sector is the crucible of cultural identity, creativity, and innovation. It plays an immeasurable role in articulating and exploring our purpose as a society. Why count beans if you don’t believe they’ll grow into a beanstalk?
The arts are also essential to human wellbeing.
ABC TV’s 2018 series Don’t Stop the Music highlighted the important role that the arts can play in schools, helping to build self-confidence, boost learning outcomes, and create community. The series was rebroadcast just weeks ago, after viewers from all over Australia donated over 7,000 instruments for school music programs. These instruments will change lives.
In the wake of the Black Saturday fires that ravaged Victoria in 2009, the people of Marysville have worked to rebuild their community, repurposing the Bushfire Recovery Resource Centre as the Marysville Information and Regional Artspace. This new facility is a gallery, performance space and workshop hub, as well as an important educational and information amenity for visitors and residents alike.
As I write this, people are engaging in art and craft and fundraising concerts to support the bushfire recovery effort in NSW and Queensland.
More than 2 million hectares of Australian land is currently on fire, and that’s not to mention the catastrophic levels of drought. Towns may eventually rebuild and replace their infrastructure, but it takes more than roads to make a community. Whenever tragedy strikes, it is art and culture that has helped us respond to the inexplicable and articulate our grief. It is also art and culture that has helped us find hope and a reason to go on.
Facing down a future where the word “catastrophic” may become numb from overuse, I can think of few things more important.
What next?
Disheartening as these changes are, now is the time for artists to do what they have always done: make noise.
Get out there and make art. If you love what you do, keep loving it. If you’re angry, channel that rage into something beautiful. Keep on changing lives.
But we also need to do more than this. If we ever thought our work spoke for itself, we now know we can’t rely on that value being recognised by those pulling the political and financial strings. Make music, yes. But also make noise.
Calling your local member of parliament, writing to the arts minister, and being actively engaged in the political process are all important. Take every opportunity to have conversations about the value of what you do. Make your presence known and your absence felt. And be loud.
We’ve been passionate advocates for a long time. Now is the time for activism.
In love and rage.
What does this story mean to you?
If you like, you can say thanks to Tim for volunteering his time to share this story. No amount too much or little.
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About the writer
Tim Hannah is a Melbourne-based musician, writer and creative professional. Whether through performance, arts governance or media, his work aims to deepen appreciation for the creative arts and the role they play in protecting and sharing our collective stories and traditions.
As a horn player, Tim has performed with the Melbourne Opera Orchestra, the Royal Melbourne Philharmonic Orchestra, RAAF Band, the Melbourne Bach Choir Orchestra, Citi Opera, More Than Opera and the Salon Project. He has toured China four times, undertaken chamber music studies at Monash University’s Prato Campus in Italy and toured New Zealand with the Melbourne Youth Orchestra. He is an alumnus of Monash University (BA/BMus) and the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music, University of Melbourne (BMus (Hons)).
Tim is co-founder and co-artistic director of Ensemble Goldentree with soprano Alison McIntosh-Deszcz. He also co-producers and co-presents Music in Melbourne with Madi Chwasta on 3MBS Fine Music Melbourne (Saturdays at 11am on 103.5 FM), interviewing local and international artists and promoting Melbourne’s fine music community. In print, Tim has been published in CutCommon and Rehearsal Magazine.
Tim is a keen sourdough baker and is currently studying a Diploma of Sustainable Living through the University of Tasmania.
Disclaimer: This story represents the views of Tim Hannah as an independent artist, and not necessarily those of the arts organisations for which he works.
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Image by Ira Selendripity via Unsplash.
