Readings

Typically when businesses decide to support the arts they do so through a grant-giving mechanism or through a program that places employees as volunteers and consultants in arts organizations. But, I've noticed a different kind of interaction between the profit-making and not-for-profit art worlds in recent years. Some business people have set up foundations dedicated to improving the ethical and cultural context in which their own professions practice.

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Lance T. Izumi is a senior fellow in California studies at the Pacific Research Institute for Public Policy. The following text is based on a transcript of Izumi's remarks at a symposium sponsored by the Western States Arts Federation (WESTAF). The topic of the two-day symposium was the support of visual artists. It was held in Seattle on December 4 and 5, 1997. The remarks are published here with permission of Izumi and WESTAF.

I am a fan of peer panels and have always enjoyed serving on them. Coming from a dance/theater background I view them as a performance event rich with actors and drama, text and subtext. I particularly appreciate the transformation of a group of individuals into a temporary community of purpose. Panelists are introduced, size each other up, conduct negotiations, build consensus, argue and disagree, acknowledge their differences, struggle to find a common language, reach certain compromises, and finally come to a set of conclusions.

For four years now at the Walter and Elise Haas Fund I have been evaluating San Francisco projects in the arena of audience development. From my years as executive director of Intersection for the Arts I remember planning around percent of capacity, marketing strategies, and collaborative programming, but more than that, when I think of our audience I think about the difficult relationship between our arts organization and the street.

Last summer, Simon Schama invited me to be a judge of the PEN/Hemingway award; I accepted. All through the fall, I diligently plowed through the piles of novels that were sent me, looking for originality, passion, and poise; for vision, economy, coherence, resonance. I tried to give myself over to the books, to accept their many different ambitions, rather than relying on personal preferences for, say, complexity of tone or that lovely quality that Italo Calvino calls lightness.

Currently they hold almost $70 million in assets. With some luck and hard work, they hope in ten years to increase that amount ten-fold to over $750 million. They can be found east and west, north and south. They are modest and ambitious. They are large and they are small. And, most importantly, they are changing and challenging the very nature of public funding of the arts nationwide.

The following article is based on excerpts from a program examination by Arts Action Research.

Bimbo Rivas: Artist Profile

In June 1998 the New York Regional Association of Grantmakers held a forum on "Conflicting Visions of Philanthropy" and I was invited to place the recent criticism of the field of philanthropy in historical perspective. [See page 44 for a short report on the session as a whole.] My objective at the forum, and in this revision of those remarks, is to put the problem in bold historical relief and to provide a context for understanding the long tradition of criticism of foundations and philanthropy. In doing so, I want to make five basic points.

1.

Is it possible for money to be a conduit for love? The word philanthropy carries the meaning "love of humanity." Modern philanthropy brings together two seemingly irreconcilable concepts: love and money. But if we read through all the annual reports of all the foundations for the last ten years, I'd wager we would be hard-pressed to find the word "love" mentioned more than ten times.