There’s really no good reason to start an arts organization.
It’s not up there with big Money Making ideas, and if someone asks you why you do it, you have no answer. The why’s and wherefore’s are met with blank stares. The general population goes glassy, and stifles yawns. There is no adequate response to the question because it just doesn’t make any sense. To them.
I imagine this is the case with many professions.
Q: “Why did you become a lion tamer?”
A: “Because I enjoy being afraid of lions.”
The fact is, one might enjoy overcoming their fear of putting their head into a lion’s mouth — fangs grazing their Adam’s apple, hot breath curling the hair on the top of their head — and depend on it as a source of life-affirming exhilaration. To a person with a pension on the mind, these thoughts don’t compute.
The lion tamer knows enough to come up with a better answer. “I come from a long line of lion tamers,” they might say. Fair enough, thinks their inquisitor, that sounds about right.
But those of use who do unusually risky things know that the truth lies elsewhere — totally off the map. The truth is personal. And it can’t be explained.
In the past 2 weeks, Studio B has had two occasions to chat with higher-ups. (And to us, everyone is a higher up.) We are in a constant search for space, for advice, for any morsel or crumb that might mean we add a few pounds-per-inch to our momentum; to get down the road just enough to get down the road again. We need higher ups, and so we attempt to explain what we do.
In both cases, we were met with a similar sentiment: “Oh, you do this for the fun of it.”
Translation #1: This is an unusual hobby for two moms.
Translation #2: Oh, so you’re not a “real” organization.
I can imagine a hobby that would be a lot less painful, and a lot less time consuming.
While we hope that the enterprise of Studio B may be fun for others, it sure is a hell of a lot of work for us. In working to create a sustainable arts organization that serves the community with the highest possible standards, we demand a lot of ourselves. We’ve made some tough professional choices and personal sacrifices just to break even.
That our work is sometimes underappreciated is not so surprising; creative folk know how it feels to be taken for granted. The hard part is how impossible it is to explain the un-explainable.
So instead, we generally nod, and agree. Sure, we do this for the fun of it. It’s believable, at the very least. We’re agreeable, we’re appreciative.
But what we really do, every single day, is put our head into the lion’s mouth with the hope that we can do it again tomorrow.
Marcy Thompson is co-Honcho of Studio B, an arts organization based in Maplewood, NJ. Studio B strives to encourage, promote, and produce the work of the vibrant, creative citizens of Maplewood and South Orange. Studio B works with visual artists, filmmakers, writers, dancers, photographers, musicians — and other “riff raff” — to create collaborative, performance – based events, or to showcase individual talents. Find out more about Studio B at www.studiobmaplewood.org.
