16/11/03 Canberra Arts Company

It’s been a rollercoaster of a month all up.

A production very close to my heart for many human reasons closed to generally warm, appreciative and big houses (and reception). A few people didn’t get it. A few didn’t like it. But it felt the goods inside where it counts. Like “Gnat’s Nightmare” and “Damage” did in the recent past. And for the first time since our first HMT outing, not a cent was lost. To quote The Violent Femmes, “Good feeling, won’t you stay with me just a little longer.”

Then I find out my company will receive no funding for 2004.

I reacted a little too hastily. Wrote a cranky letter to the paper. Then went and spoke to the artsACT people. Left with some answers. Felt reasonably understanding of the Peer Committee’s reasoning and rationale. But less so with the fact that they – and their messengers at artsACT - hadn’t seen too much of my (or other people’s) stuff of late, including works they recently funded. And I think to myself, surely they owe it to the tax payer – at the very least – to check up on what they have forked out money for…

Next I got a bundle of supportive and empathetic e-mails and messages – and a few telling me to shave my neck. For all these highs and lows, I felt like I’m certainly living in a pluralistic society. The Canberra Times Arts Editor then joins a shortlist of people having a go at me for being naïve for wanting Bill Wood to come to my show. Fair enough. Point taken. He’s too busy. I’ll get over it.

Some days pass and I think back to my recent show. “Welcome to the Machine” had multiple themes, some more salient than others. Yet one which stands out for me is the need in people (and artists) to move on. To be allowed to recreate. Start afresh. Begin anew. Like you sometimes have to do with friendships. It’s a shame I don’t always head my own inner voice.

As I write and reflect this morning (2am) I’ll admit the need to take a chill pill, write a few things out of my system. And then finally and definitely move on, as a friend recently and quite bluntly suggested. That cantankerous letter (published on the webpage under the heading “Quality Control”) was written in the heat of a passionate moment laced with disappointment and disillusionment. And I don’t regret it. In fact I stand by its essential thrust, albeit less stubbornly.

Why have the title “Minister of the Arts” if you don’t occasionally go out and see the little artists? I’m not asking busy Bill to come and see all my shows – just maybe kiss one baby in seven – especially as he has funded my company for two years. (And incidentally, I did not suggest he see every applicant’s work as the newspaper intimated; I simply suggested that he should attempt to “see more local theatre”. I also suggested that the Peer Committee get out and see more work in order to make informed decisions - as the arts editor correctly reiterated.)

And so I plead, with further humility and naivety, moreso than angst, for the Peer Committee to make a more concerted effort to see as much of the stuff that is out there, so that when a funding round arrives, the little artists who give their hearts and souls to their stuff – sometimes, yes, a little too myopically I will concede - are left feeling that they are being as fairly evaluated as humanly possible. Giving government grants on how niftily an application reads or utilises jargon is rewarding someone for cleverly filling out forms, not creating art. (I would go further to suggest that if Peer Committee members have a conflict of interest and are practising arts practitioners or leaders, they really need to give the job to someone else.)

I remember watching the young folk in “Welcome to the Machine” and admiring their love, their joy, their excitement as they engaged in the creative process. The older, more experienced members of the cast (and I) frequently marvelled at the stamina of their vitality. And it seemed to me nothing was more important than each other’s company. That’s what ‘company’ means I guess.

And so, as I write this, I’ve come full circle. I’m coming to realise that bitchy notes and whinging are probably not the best way to celebrate and promote the arts and its wider ‘company’ within the Canberra region. I will now shut up and try my best to get out and support other artists is the region – many who have not received grants ever – and hope that my important friends in politics, the press and the public service will do so as well.

If your reasons for creating art are the right ones, you manage to jump over hurdles. You spend more time creating and improving your creations rather than ranting and raving and writing epistles such as these. You make it work somehow. Build from the ground up. Use something new. Do something new.

And don’t give up.