Cultural Policy

The Metropolitan Denver Scientific and Cultural Facilities District (SCFD) is a new member of GIA. It is a six-county regional public funding agency, formed ten years ago this coming November. It was created at a time when much public funding was being challenged, if not actively cut back. The formation of the district and its continuing success have been models for a number of other communities.

People are betting on the renewal of Washington D.C. Without doubt, Washington is struggling with profound structural, financial, and governance challenges including the lack of voting representation in Congress. However, another District story is starting to be told — the story of the District as the home of thousands of dynamic and effective nonprofits and others who are renewing neighborhoods, investing in families and cultural life, and bringing life and leadership to the District.

New England Builds Communities through Culture

Building Communities through Culture (BCC) fosters and encourages community-building projects in New England by linking arts and non-arts partners in select areas in the region. Established in 1995 as an initiative of the New England Foundation for the Arts (NEFA), BCC is supported by The Boston Foundation, the Fund for the Arts, and a 1997 NEA grant of $200,000 for Leadership Projects in Underserved Areas.

Landscape dominates Oregon. Its beaches, mountains, and rivers beckon Oregonians to spend their leisure time hiking, skiing, and fishing. Many Portland residents routinely exit the city on weekends, choosing outdoors over urban culture. It is within this enticing natural environment that Portland's arts and cultural institutions must engage their audiences and make their way as financially viable institutions.

To Protect the Powerless in the Digital Age
An Open Letter to Foundations: To Protect the Interests of the Powerless in the Digital Age, Communications Researchers Need Your Support

The "open letter" has a number of signers.
August 12, 1998. 33 pages. The Civil Rights Forum on Communications Policy, 818 18th Street, N.W. Suite 810, Washington, D.C. 20006, 202-887-0301, forum[at]civilrightsforum.org.

A critic for The New York Times, wrote about last winter's Perigino exhibit at the Grand Rapids Art Museum in Michigan, "This is perhaps the most important exhibit of the decade, in the least important of places."

Pueblo people believe that the primary and most important relationship for humans is with the land, the natural environment — or the cosmos. In the Pueblo world, the cosmos, the natural environment, and the landscape are synonymous. Humans exist within the cosmos and are an integral part of the functioning of the earth community. The mystical nature of the land, the earth, is recognized and honored. Direct contact and interaction with the land, the natural environment, is sought. In the Pueblo, there are no manipulated outdoor areas that serve to distinguish humans from nature.

I still remember my first sight of New York. It was really another city when I was born—where I was born. We looked down over the Park Avenue streetcar tracks. It was Park Avenue, but I didn't know what Park Avenue meant downtown. The Park Avenue I grew up on, which is still standing, is dark and dirty. No one would dream of opening up a Tiffany's on that Park Avenue, and when you go downtown you discover that you are literally in the white world. It is rich—or at least it looks rich. It is clean—because they collect the garbage downtown. There are doormen.

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.

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.