A body of art is a sum of a
thousand twisting gears moving
together
in
simultaneous
harmony. Everything must be
perfectly in order for the final
piece to be complete. Among
the most important gears in this
elaborate machine are space
(the location in which the art
takes place), people to witness
the art and, most of the time,
funding for the art to be made.
While the artists themselves are
vital to fueling the art machine,
arts
administrators
are
the
machine’s main source of power.
Arts
administrators
provide
the ammunition so the three
important gears listed above can
move easily side by side.
“It was thrilling. It was
terrifying.
And
still
is,”
Literati Bookstore owner Mike
Gustafson said about opening
the store in downtown Ann
Arbor. The venue is home to
hundreds of books and monthly
literature events. When I asked
Gustafson if he found support
in the Ann Arbor community
now, years after he and his wife
realized their dream of opening
up an independent bookstore,
he didn’t hesitate to praise the
community.
“The
wonderful
thing
about Ann Arbor is, we didn’t
have to invent the ‘buy local’
wheel,” he said, “There was
and is a very strong ‘buy local’
movement and culture here in
Ann Arbor, and we are one little
aspect of that. This community
values local businesses and its
independent mindset.” Although
the community values local
business, that doesn’t mean
his work is easy by any means.
“Every year, we have to reinvent
ourselves internally: staffing,
communication, our own roles
as owners. But the original
passion — to be a bookstore that
helps people find books that
can change lives — remains the
same.” Gustafson’s impassioned
attitude does not simply apply to
booksellers and stores. It is this
passion for the art itself that all
arts administrators share.
During my interview with
Mary Steffek Blaske, executive
director of the Ann Arbor
Symphony
Orchestra,
the
passion she had for both the
music and the administration
behind the orchestra pulsated
through the room. “You need
to have both hats. A hat of a
for-profit with the heart of a
non-profit. You’re running a
business,” she said. “It’s amazing
to work with a spirit that wants
to be creative and serving people
that way. You need to have the
mechanisms that want to make it
happen. There are so many layers
— we are all working together.
Whether it’s the orchestra, the
musicians on stage, the board
and the audience. We have to
be working together. The artists
know that we can’t do it without
them and we can’t do it without
us either.”
Steffek
Blaske
smiled
at
me, her eyes glimmering with
confidence
in
the
seamless
process of art creation. While
her passion for the orchestra was
riveting to witness, it also made
me a bit melancholic. I hear of
people going to football games all
the time, but the phrase, “Want
to go to the orchestra?” isn’t
tossed around in nearly enough
of my conversations. When I
expressed this concern to her,
she shook her head knowingly.
“Arts
and
culture
in
Washtenaw County fill up the
Michigan Stadium more times
in a season than the football
does,” Steffek Blaske said. “We
are hard-wired as human beings
to make sounds, to make sounds
together. Even if it’s sitting here
at a coffee shop hearing the
music, the voices. Going to a
concert and watching this story
happen with sound is beautiful.
It’s something people don’t want
to miss out on.”
However,
bringing
people
in to witness the orchestra
takes a certain type of strategic
planning.
Administratively,
she explained to me that the
orchestra
tries
to
draw
in
people from every stage of
life. They do this through
niche
programming.
The
orchestra puts on programming
specifically
meant
for
elementary, middle and high
schoolers as well as concerts for
the elderly and everywhere in
between.
I asked her to delve further
into her children’s programs,
and her face lit up with joy. “It’s
so important to have artistic
education engagements. To give
kids, who are like sponges, this
gift, which they might have not
been able to find on their own,”
she said. “Exposing kids to
artistic works at an early age has
the potential to inspire them to
create art of their own.”
And again, the balancing act
of a fiery passion or a “non-profit
heart” overcame Steffek Blaske.
“It’s about humanity and making
everybody have a chance to be
their best selves,” she said. Soon
enough, though, her “for-profit”
hat was quickly donned. “And all
this sounds great but, because
of the way arts are structured,
they need to be funded. That is
why you need the organizational
savvy of arts administrators,” she
said. “How do you make the two
circles, artist and administrator,
intersect in a Venn diagram?
This is real meaningful work.
You need the board to be out
there letting people know that
what we do has value.”
Funding is a huge part of arts
administration and the creation
of arts in general. As much as
we’d like to create everything
our imagination can think of, a
lot of this can only be done if we
possess the proper funding.
Mary Cambruzzi, owner of
Kerrytown store Found which
features art made from recylced
materials, told me about her
attention to funding. “With
a store this size, you have to
have enough product turning
over all the time in order to
have the numbers work,” she
said. Cambruzzis focus on the
numbers allows Found to be
successful. The store expands
each year with new products and
artisans.
Cambruzzi said it can be
difficult to pursue artists and
ideas because she is also trying to
run the business. “At some point,
I hit a stride about six or seven
years into it ... Where we were
constantly evolving what we
had, I had a good sense of what’s
going to sell and what isn’t,” she
said. Similar to the passion of the
artists whose work she chooses
to sell in her store, Cambruzzi
holds a deep sense of passion
for her work with administering
arts. “With Found, you have a
person you can count on to care
about the stuff they’re putting
in their space. I care about the
stuff, whether it’s imported or
from Ann Arbor, I care deeply
about the stuff we put in our
space,” she said.
Caring deeply is a common
thread I found in all three
of these arts administrators.
Crunching numbers, publicizing
and strategizing allow the deep
care to be illuminated for all
to
see.
Arts
administration
requires an individual who is
quick on their toes and who
has
great
personable
skills.
And most importantly, who
cares deeply about the finished
work. The gears of a piece of
art are endlessly shifting and
molding to fit into one another.
It is under the oversight of arts
administrators that these gears
move smoothly in order to
create a well-oiled final artistic
machine.
2B — Thursday, January 24, 2019
b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
The machine and gears
of art and administration
ALLISON ENGKVIST/ MICHIGAN DAILY
B-SIDE LEAD
ALIX CURNOW
Daily Arts Writer
“It’s amazing
to work with a
spirit that wants
to be creative
and serving
people that way.
You need to have
the mechanisms
that want to
make it happen”
B-SIDE
White walls have made way
for white screens as Instagram
has replaced the art exhibit
or high fashion store as the
public’s primary mode of art
consumption. While at one time
the art consumer was forced to
move from one work to another
in clockwise fashion around a
room, the Instagram user can
take any number of paths from
one item to the next through
tags, likes, follow suggestions,
etc., in a never-ending loop of
promotion. In this way, the art
consumer is never independent
of the material consumer.
One man who was cognizant
of this long before the days
of
Instagram
is
Japanese
artist Takashi Murakami (@
takashipom).
Throughout
his
career, Murakami has taken
elements
of
traditional
and
contemporary
Japanese
pop
culture
and
incorporated
them
into
his
recognizable
cartoon-style graphics (you may
recognize his work — it first came
into American consciousnesses
through
Kanye
West’s
Graduation cover art). These
graphics have been produced and
reproduced in so many contexts
over the years that one begins
to question where one draws the
line between art and commodity.
The only thing that outpaces
Murakami’s art is his Instagram.
He’s now made over 7,000 posts,
and it doesn’t take much scrolling
to find similarly inclined artists
on his feed.
One such artist is Virgil
Abloh, founder of Off-White
and now creative director of
Louis Vuitton’s ready-to-wear
menswear
collection.
“My
brand started in the alleys
of the internet,” Abloh told
The Guardian in 2018. Unlike
Murakami, who came to adapt
to the newfound power of social
media, Abloh’s success is solely
dependent on its capabilities.
Abloh’s trademark creation to
date is the addition of bold, all-
caps Helvetica Neue words in
quotation marks to clothing,
furniture and art for this brand
Off-White. While the point of
this was to highlight the deceitful
nature of marketing and the
superficiality of consumerism,
the internet has powered these
items to never-before-seen levels
of hype and blind consumption.
With nothing but a knack for
popular culture and a bad social
media habit (plus a masters in
architectural design), Abloh rose
himself up through the ranks
from being an intern at Fendi to
being the head of menswear at
what could possibly be the world’s
“it” fashion brand. Though he
may be 38 and married, Abloh
now flies nearly every day to and
from offices, DJ sets (you get paid
to have the aux when you’re head
of Off-White and Louis Vuitton),
and fashion shows as one of
the many entrepreneurs of our
generation’s catered interests.
To
supplement
this
interconnected online market
of fashion, art and music are
companies like Complex and
Highsnobiety, who make their
money
hiring
20-somethings
to follow the daily activities
of influencers like Abloh and
Murakami
(seriously,
what
must their employees do all
day?). On top of their main
Instagram
accounts,
which
tally 3.8 million and 2.6 million
followers
respectively,
each
has a variety of side accounts
like @highsnobietydesign and
@complexsneakers
that
tally
upwards of a million followers
each
as
well.
These
pages
maximize the likelihood that
you will find these companies
through some path on the
internet (like sports? Find @
complexsports on your discover
feed) and view their posts.
It
doesn’t
matter
whether
Instagram indicates that these
are ads or not.
No matter the reason we follow
these pages, each and every post
makes some sort of plug that at
the end of the day aims to have
us buy something. Yes, there’s
always been a tension in art
between design and commodity,
but never to the extent that we
see it today. While the exchange
of art and high fashion was once
an activity reserved for the elite,
it now permeates all levels of
society. Although it seems that
creators like Abloh are genuinely
invested in their designs, we must
always question the sincerity of
companies that solely produce
and share products catered to the
masses.
GARAGE
Instagram is the newest
mode for art consumption
BEN VASSAR
Daily Arts Writer
“All I Want”
Broken Social Scene
Arts & Crafts
SINGLE REVIEW: ‘ALL I WANT’
“All I Want,” released Jan.
22, is the first single from the
Toronto-based Broken Social
Scene’s upcoming EP Let’s
Try the After — Vol. 1. The
track has a warm, dreamy,
almost
oversaturated
tone
in
line
with
their
most
recent
album
Hug
of Thunder. It bursts with
urgent creativity, as though
the band is rushing to fit as
many ideas as possible into
a single song. Broken Social
Scene has always had a
knack for creating a cohesive
whole out of bizarre sounds,
making the dissonant sound
harmonious. The group has
not lost its touch on this front
quite yet, managing to make
a distortion-heavy track feel
like a balmy summer day. The
experimental elements are
made natural, and the whole
package goes down easy.
However,
while
“All
I
Want” is enjoyable, it lacks
that same gravity that we
know Broken Social Scene
is
capable
of
producing.
Most Broken Social Scene
songs
forcibly
command
your attention; they grab you
by the lapels and dare you
to stop listening. Instead,
“All I Want” ambles by,
pleasant and unremarkable.
It’s not particularly catchy
or memorable, almost as if
you spend the whole time
waiting for the song to really
kick in. For any other band,
“All I Want” would be a very
encouraging single release.
For Broken Social Scene, it
feels like stagnation.
— Jonah Mendelson, Daily
Arts Writer
FABER AND FABER