A Periodic Broadside
for Arts and Culture Workers
Institute for Community Arts Studies
Arts & Administration Program, University of Oregon
In this special issue:
Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective Maryo Ewell The Montana Study Clayton Funk
MYpurpose is to tell you about community arts councils, from the ideas that generated them to the present. I believe that story-telling enables people to evaluate how far they have come, to attribute significance to what has happened, and to enable people to then define a course for the future. When you're 50, as the community arts council movement now is, you have the ability to synthesize diverse experience into something that finally makes sense as a whole; wisdom flows from a sense of wholeness. As a person associated with this movement, I see my challenge as articulating what I've learned, what the community arts council movement once was, and what it is becoming.
Director, Institute for Community Arts Studies
Community arts are associated with people coming together in local arts centers, museums, schools, homes, places of worship, social clubs, recreation facilities, and civic associations among other settings, both formal and informal.
Community arts settings are among those informal and formal enclaves in which people assemble, work, and act together for a variety of political, cultural, economic, and educational purposes. The arts produced in such settings function, in part, as catalysts for dialogue about individual and group identity as well as local, national, and international concerns. In this regard, community arts have the capacity to foster the discourse required by democracy and that nourishes civil society. In many instances this discourse has been directed towards debating and creating what is considered to be the "common good" and helping to define "good" citizenship.
Despite the obvious importance that community arts initiatives and organizations have within American society and to the perpetuation of American democracy, there are no comprehensive scholarly historical surveys available on the topic. Nor are there many detailed studies of specific community arts events, programs, participants, purposes, and places that can support and/or supplement broader historical surveys.
Maryo Ewell's article in this issue of CultureWork inaugurates what I hope will be the regular and frequent appearance of advisories that provide a historical perspective on community arts and culture work. Previously in this publication, Maryo Ewell's Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective has been presented in three parts. In this issue, Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective is presented in its entirety, along with another historical article, The Montana Study, by Clayton Funk. It is my hope that these essays will stimulate others to submit historically oriented manuscripts.
It is important that those of us associated with community arts commit to creating a shared history that informs and stimulates our endeavors. Readers are encouraged to consult manuscript submission guidelines at the conclusion of this issue. I will be pleased to communicate with any person who wishes to write on our shared history for CultureWork. I can be reached at <firstname.lastname@example.org>.
Gestation (1853 – 1955)
Its often said that the “community arts council movement” began in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, in 1949. In one way, that's true. But it would be equally true to say (and people in those communities do say) that “the movement” was born in Quincy, Illinois and in Canon City, Colorado, for in the period 1946-49 all three communities were in the convening, discussion, planning, and incorporating stages.
It is worth paying heed to foundational stories that made the creation of community arts councils almost inevitable, for if ideas move in 40-50 year cycles, as many people suggest, then the old stories are poised for rebirth. Some stories are about community movements with an arts emphasis; others are about arts movements with a community emphasis. The community arts council is a hybrid – its strongest attribute, perhaps, but one which also leads to ongoing, and often passionately argumentative, soul-searching.
The Physical Community
In 1853, the “Village Improvement” movement began in Massachusetts. “Proponents of village improvement sought to beautify their communities by controlling billboards, planting trees, paving streets and sidewalks, and securing recreational facilities. By 1900, [there existed] a national network of 3,000 village improvement associations characterized by citizen activism and a commitment to recapture a sense of community through a concern for aesthetics.” (Dreeszen & Korza, 1994). The “City Beautiful” movement had culminated in the Chicago World's Fair which advocated a return to beautiful, inspirational classical architecture (and many of these Fair sites – the Museum of Science & Industry, the Aquarium, the Midway with its classical sculpture, still remain in their grandeur). Early in the twentieth century, landscape architects and park planners – most famous among them Frederick Law Olmstead – were integrating public art and plantings into thoughtful public gathering-places; indeed, several public art commissions were created in the 19-teens for that purpose.
The growing industrialization of America in the early part of the century and the growth of huge business agglomerates led to a fascination with, and a valuing of, efficiency (think of Ford's assembly line). Says Dreeszen, “In an era during which efficiency was the primary value, aesthetics were thought to be superficial, impractical, inefficient, and costly.” (Dreeszen & Korza, 1994, p. 4) Moreover, some insisted (probably correctly) that grand public buildings, museums, and public art primarily benefited the upper class.
Frank Lloyd Wright was, perhaps, the best known of the American architects and designers who took a stand against this perspective, arguing that quality design should be a public good. His vision of “Usonia” included affordable housing of high quality design integrated into the natural landscape. He went further, believing that furniture, drapery and upholstery fabric, even wallpaper, could and should be both beautiful and affordable. Indeed, he designed lines of fabric and wallcoverings that were briefly sold through Sears – accessible, functional art aimed at the middle class.
The Thinking Community
Josiah Holbrook of Millbury, Massachusetts, gathered his neighbors together to read books and discuss the ideas that they prompted. They began to invite professors to their gatherings, as well, to lecture and discuss new ideas with them. This grassroots movement grew into the American Lyceum Association in 1831, and by 1850, perhaps 3,000 of these groups existed in communities of all sizes (Overton, 1997).
Honoraria were ultimately provided. The assembly hall replaced the parlor as the gathering site. It seemed logical and efficient that speakers should go “on the circuit.” In 1867, James Redpath centralized speakers through his booking company. It was beautifully organized and costs were kept down through efficiency savings; but Redpath’s Lyceum Bureau favored, of course, those groups that could afford the fees, and those communities that were on railroad lines. The grassroots self-improvement movement withered in the face of centralization and efficiency (Overton, 1997).
At about this time, Methodist minister Dr. John Heyl Vincent began experimenting with the arts as one way to better teach the Bible at his summer camp in Chatauqua, New York (1874). The camps proved so effective that Dr. Vincent encouraged the creation of Chatauqua Literary and Scientific Circles based on his study packages. In Overton’s (1997) opinion these packages promoted the arts as a way to teach and learn.
Meanwhile, Keith Vawter, new manager of Redpath’s Lyceum Bureau, believed that by combining the fine Lyceum speakers with the great number of potential “presenters” - Chatauqua circles - more audiences could be reached and more work could be available for the speakers. Realizing that many of the Chatauqua circle communities did not have assembly halls, Vawter provided tents. The tents – perhaps symbolizing the populist circus and religious revival experience – tended to draw people from all walks of life as nothing had done before. Gradually, theater experience was introduced into the Tent Chatauqua (Overton, 1997).
The Cultured Community:
It is often said in the West that the building built after the assayer's office and saloon was the opera house. Certainly, grand opera houses and performance halls abounded in large cities, but they were equally numerous in small towns. For example, Leadville, Colorado, was famous for its elegant Tabor Opera House.
Extraordinary performers like Edmund Booth and Sarah Bernhardt rode the opera house circuit, and local leagues presenting the performing arts sprang up everywhere. Community Concerts series – many of which sprang up in the early 1940’s, and were affiliated with Columbia Artists Management – proliferated throughout America's smallest towns. In the Southwest, vaudeville theater – in Spanish – toured throughout Texas and into California, with bi-lingual companies presenting plays that made important statements about the lives of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans (Kanellos, 1990).
Meanwhile, community-based arts organizations were multiplying. The Little Theater movement began in the nineteen-teens and spread rapidly. Quincy, Illinois had a small orchestra with a paid conductor by 1947. There was a visual art league in Fargo that went back to 1911. The arts could no longer be considered the purview of the larger cities.
Communities were starting to think of the arts more broadly. For example, in 1927 the Cincinnati Institute of Fine Arts was formed “for the purpose of stimulating the development of art and music in the city of Cincinnati." (Gibans, 1982, pp. 25-26). A little later, Virginia Lee Comer, on the central staff of the Cincinnati Junior League, recognized the unmet needs of cultural groups across the country and the absence of cultural opportunities in many places. Her 1944 manual, The Arts and Our Town, was the precursor of cultural planning, examining
…all aspects of participation in the arts and also opportunities for appreciation of them, and [in the survey we] included agencies whose sole purpose is to provide cultural opportunity, such as museums, and those whose programs may touch cultural fields, such as radio stations and civic clubs. In addition, organizations of large groups of people such as housing projects, unions, churches, etc., have been included since they are channels through which large numbers can be informed of existing facilities and services and may themselves have developed activities. (Gibans,
Perhaps the timing was logical for this community arts development, emerging as it did around the time of the New Deal. The value of artists to a community's makeup was publicly acknowledged, as the Works Progress Administration, Federal Theater and other initiatives employed hundreds of artists, writers, playwrights and “arts administrators.” These programs were short-lived, but they first articulated the role that artists play in public life, and created corresponding public support mechanisms.
The Creative Community
In 1888, Jane Adams established Hull House in Chicago, perhaps the best known of the settlement houses. Her credo was access. Poverty should not mean disenfranchisement from a decent, educated and creative life. Among the comprehensive social programs of Hull House, which served a diverse immigrant community of 5,000-6,000 people, were a kindergarten, a public kitchen, a gymnasium, a men's club, a circulating library, an employment bureau, an art gallery, and a drama group. Today, the schools affiliated with the National Guild of Community Schools of the Arts identify their roots in the settlement house movement: Guild schools pledge that no student may be denied access to learning the arts because of inability to pay tuition, nor denied access to learning the arts because of inadequate “talent.”
In rural America, the Extension Service created similar access to the arts. While our stereotype today may limit 4-H to young people raising animals, and homemakers’ programs to baking, we couldn't be further from the historical truth. Grounded in the Smith-Lever Act of 1914, Extension agents organized opera groups in rural Iowa, integrated the arts and recreation in West Virginia, helped stimulate folk arts in Kentucky, used the arts as a community planning tool in Ohio (Patten, 1932).
Five professors, who were employed by, or collaborated with, their University's extension divisions are important to mention. They explicitly linked Extension's programmatic activity to the notion that a citizen whose creativity is supported will be more likely to participate in his society, that community progress will emerge from creative participation, and that American democracy will be furthered as a result. They are:1. Alexander Drummond, professor of drama at Cornell University from 1912-52. Drummond advertised in agricultural journals for farmers who might be interested in writing plays about their lives and their communities, and assisted them with the writing and producing of these plays.
2. Frederick Koch of the University of North Carolina, Drummond's contemporary. He believed that all people should be writing “folk plays” about their community and life; some 50 such plays, written by students and non-students, black and white, sharecropper and well-heeled, were produced each year.
3. Alfred Arvold, of North Dakota State University, wrote in 1923 that "…there are literally millions of people in country communities today whose abilities along various lines have been hidden, simply because they have never had an opportunity to give expression to their talents (p. 23)."
Arvold’s approach to drama and to life was organic and holistic. He clearly saw arts development, community development, science, and democracy as interrelated. In discussing what we might, today, call “cultural centers” he said:
A community center is a place, a neighborhood laboratory, so to speak, where people meet in their own way to analyze whatever interests they have in common and participate in such forms of recreation as are healthful and enjoyable. The fundamental principle back of the community center is the democratization of all art so the common people can appreciate it, science so they can use it, government so they can take part in it, and recreation so they can enjoy it. In other words, its highest aim is to make the common interests the great interests. To give a human expression in every locality to the significant meaning of these terms – “come let's reason and play together” – is in reality the ultimate object of the community center. (Arvold, 1923, p. 4).
4. Baker Brownell worked in Montana in the 1940’s. Brownell, a philosopher, developed a community self-study process that enabled people to plan together for the future of their community. Integral to this process was the collective writing of a community pageant that helped citizens see issues and options more clearly. He called this whole process “community development” (Brownell, 1950).5. Robert Gard of the University of Wisconsin, playwright for the College of Agriculture from 1945-1980. The “Wisconsin Idea” was a political notion that linked public education, public service, citizen participation and community progress. Gard’s Wisconsin Idea Theater reached out from Madison and inspired literally tens of thousands of Wisconsinites to write plays, poetry, books derived from their lives and from their sense of place as one way of building Wisconsin by building personal creativity.The Tolerant Community
In 1955 Gard quoted a rural woman: "She said that there must be a great, free expression. If the people of Wisconsin knew that someone would encourage them to express themselves in any way they chose…it was her opinion that there would be such a rising of creative expression as is yet unheard of in Wisconsin…for the whole expression would be of and about ourselves (p. 217)."
In this context, Gard (1955) reflected on the training of community arts leaders:
New community arts leaders should be issuing from…all the universities and colleges of the nation….The young person graduating from the university [today] has little concept of the scope of the theater to be developed, of the delicate social problems involved in fitting himself and his talents into community life. (p. 250).
While thinkers, writers and activists for decades have described the cultural tensions that exist in this nation, and have prescribed approaches to cultural understanding, Rachel Davis Dubois published a book in 1943 that is seminal to understanding the role of the arts in community. In Get Together Americans: Friendly Approaches to Racial and Cultural Conflicts Through the Neighborhood-Home Festival Davis Dubois counsels readers in ways still relevant today. She writes…The melting pot idea, or “come-let-us-do-something-for-you” attitude on the part of the old-stock American was wrong. For half the melting pot to rejoice in being made better while the other half rejoiced in being better allowed for neither element to be its true self….The welfare of the group…means [articulating] a creative use of differences. Democracy is the only atmosphere in which this can happen, whether between individuals, within families, among groups in a country, or among countries. This kind of sharing we have called cultural democracy. Political democracy – the right of all to vote – we have inherited… Economic democracy – the right of all to be free from want – we are beginning to envisage…. But cultural democracy – a sharing of values among numbers of our various cultural groups – we have scarcely dreamed of. Much less have we devised social techniques for creating it (pp. 5-6). (emphasis is the author's)Dubois goes on to describe why and how to undertake a cultural and intercultural festival, as one of the key social techniques.
Birth (1948 – 1965)
Within this period of gestation, local groups were sponsoring public art/aesthetics programs; presenting and integrating the arts into teaching; establishing arts groups; using the arts as a planning technique; integrating the arts into recreation and social-work movements; surveying facilities; identifying arts needs; and staging intercultural festivals. Public agencies for the arts existed in such cities as San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Boston (Yuen, 1990) The everyday life of significant numbers of Americans, representing all socio-economic groups, included participation in the arts. What, then, is the importance of what happened independently in Winston-Salem, Quincy, and Canon City?
These cities represented the first time that communities made a grassroots, citizen-driven attempt to pull all of the gestational trends together. Local groups were formed that looked at the whole – all the arts, all segments of the community – where before the emphasis was on the parts – certain art forms, certain segments of the community. Each of these three communities began at a different point, given the various needs of each community.Winston-SalemYouth (1956 – 1990)
Winston-Salem had a long cultural tradition by 1943 with a Civic Music Association (since 1930), a Little Theatre (since 1935), a Children's Theatre (since 1940), the Piedmont Festival of Music and Art (since 1943) and much more. In 1943, the local Junior League brought Virginia Lee Comer to Winston-Salem to help analyze the cultural life of the whole community. Comers report outlined gaps in the community's cultural life –gaps in the existing audience makeup and gaps in what was available. Over the next few years, Miss Comer updated her reports, and key members of the business and arts community responded. In 1946, the local League set aside $7,200 “for the ‘Community Arts Council, until such time the Council crystallizes its plans…” (Graham-Wheeler, 1989, pp. 6-7).
A vigorous newspaper campaign combined with extensive conversations with existing arts organizations led to the formation of the Winston-Salem Arts Council in 1949. Its purpose was “to serve those members [organizations] and to plan, coordinate, promote, and sponsor the opportunity for, and the appreciation of, cultural activities in Winston-Salem and Forsyth County.” (Graham-Wheeler, 1989, p. 9).
The Arts Council grew. In 1968 Ralph Burgard wrote:Over the years, the Winston-Salem council has helped organize seven new arts organizations, established a united arts fund, and constructed an arts center. More importantly, the councils comprehensive cultural program has received national acclaim and changed the attitudes of local businessmen toward the arts. This was an important factor when, under the leadership of R. Phil Hanes, Jr., a businessman and arts council trustee, over $1,000,000 was raised in 48 hours to establish the North Carolina School of the Arts… (p. 2).Canon City, Colorado
Dotty Hawthorne, one of the original founders of the Canon City Fine Arts Association, recalls that in 1947 the City appointed a ten-member committee to look into a publicly-financed community arts center. The group spearheaded a community meeting in this market/ranching/prison town. Some 30 people met with a city planner who talked program development as well as bricks-and-mortar. A cultural facility owned by the community did not happen until 1992; but meanwhile, the citizens brought a nationally known artist to be in residence in Canon City and to spearhead the development of an arts school. They began the “Blossom Festival” exhibit in 1948 that continues to this day. Local musicians and dramatists were also nurtured through a variety of programs, and other visiting artists brought to town as well.
In 1948, George Irwin, conductor of the Quincy Symphony Orchestra, was well aware of the abundance of talented people returning home from World War II and of their hunger to participate in creative activity. There were plenty of things to do in Quincy – though only a small handful of formal arts organizations – but it seemed as though there were unnecessary scheduling conflicts. Also, during the war some of the existing arts groups had died. Quincy was a small city and the arts supporters were a close-knit group. The Quincy Society of Fine Arts was founded naturally and easily (“over the teacups,” said Nina Gibans though George Irwin says today it was really “over the cocktails.” (Gibans, 1982, p. 24) It had three purposes:1) to help coordinate the calendar of arts events;Quincy was too small a city, of 40,000 people, to formally request Junior League assistance. However, Irwin was well aware of Ms. Comer's manual. Moreover, the American Symphony Orchestra League (ASOL), under the leadership of Executive Secretary Helen Thompson, had taken up the cause of stimulating community arts councils as a strategy for audience development, and Irwin was a participant in the ASOL community training sessions. (Indeed, ASOL’s entire conference in 1952, “was devoted to discussion of plans for coordinated arts programs in cities” (Gibans, 1982, p. 4). Irwin brought development and management techniques home.
2) to provide basic management services to existing arts organizations that did (the Orchestra, the Art Club, the Historical Society, and music conservatory); and
3) to stimulate the re-birth of the Quincy Community Theater and Civic Music Association, and create any new organizations that were needed.
By 1956, there were some 55 community arts councils in the country (Yuen, 1990). By 1967 there were an estimated 450 community arts councils, of which 70 employed some paid staff (Burgard, 1968). Of these, 273 were private non-profits, while 42 were public. Twenty-four of the 29 cities of populations of 500,000+ had an arts council (13) or commission (9). Fourteen years later that number had more than doubled to an estimated 1000 arts councils (Gibans, 1982).
This phenomenal growth in the numbers of community arts councils suggests that a “movement” was taking place within the United States around the importance of linking community development to citizens’ ability to access and participate in the arts. However, this evolutionary movement must be understood as being more than just an increase in numbers of local organizations.
Name changes reflect evolution as well. Within its youth the generic name for “community arts council” would to a great extent become “local arts agency.” This label reflects the belief that what really matters is what an entity does, not what it calls itself. For example, are not public arts commissions functionally the same as “community arts councils?” What of the recreation district or arts-and-business council that also serves as the de facto “community arts council” for its area?
Dramatic social change within American society would have a profound impact on local arts agencies beginning in the 1960s and continuing through the 1980s. For the local arts scene, two moments and two movements changed society's orientation to art and the nature of art in the community.
The first moment was the creation of the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) in 1965 as part of President Lyndon Johnson's “Great Society. “ This was important to local arts agencies because the federal government had taken a new and firm stand about the importance of a publicly-supported arts infrastructure that could be echoed at the local level. Additionally, the NEA had to make 20% of its program funds available to the states via state arts agencies (SAA's). By 1967, all states and territories had created SAA's. So it was a logical next step that this federal-state linkage should become a federal-state-local linkage. Many local arts agencies sprang up as a result. Because of NEA encouragement, many SAA's added community arts council program directors. The NEA contributed, in part, to this arts environment by acting like a Johnny Appleseed for the arts by sowing community arts councils across the nation. Concurrently the Comprehensive Employment and Training Act (CETA) (1974-83) enabled many local arts agencies to hire their first staff. In short, community arts became a part of the tax-supported public service and political scene.
The second moment was the Bicentennial Celebration in 1976. The decade before the Bicentennial was a time of local rediscovery. Historical societies, local Bicentennial commissions, and groups of citizens began serious discussion of the meaning of their community: Who are we? How can we express our “sense of place” and “sense of our people?” This coast to coast discussion inspired many events and festivals across the nation. The infrastructure and discussions that began then still remain and continue today in many places. This Bicentennial focus affected not only the number of descendent local arts agencies, but also encouraged communities to discover their local uniqueness, values and character of place. This same purpose of discovery continues to inform the missions and programs of local arts agencies.
The importance of the Civil Rights Movement to the evolution of arts in the community is inestimable. This movement, growing through the 1950s and continuing full force through the 1960s brought Americans’ attention tothe struggle to acknowledge personal rights and to confront racial oppression put the need to respect diversity on the community arts agenda….Artists are frequently on the front lines of… social change movements. Through the work of many artists, community arts organizations have been increasingly sensitized to issues of social equity (Dreeszen & Korza, 1994). [emphasis mine]President Ronald Reagan and the social policy his administration encouraged constitute the second social movement of importance. Federal funding for many social programs – not just arts programs – was drastically reduced. Though public money for the arts had never been easy to secure, it seemed abundant, in comparison to the Reagan and post-Reagan years. Suddenly, local arts agencies had to think differently about sources of funding. They had to be far more resourceful in the way they behaved. They no longer had the resources to act in isolation. All of this, coupled with the dawning realization that acting in isolation was not furthering their cause anyway, prompted better management, better fiduciary practices, more canny resource-mobilization, and a stance of entrepreneurialism and collaboration.
Finally, this period of youthfulness in the evolution of community arts councils, or local arts agencies, is characterized by changes in arts programs in response to larger societal changes. American society of the late 1950s, 60s, 70s and 80s responded to far different conditions than the conditions influencing the prototypical arts councils of 1949.
Patterns of giving on the part of individuals and corporations changed in response to a changing economy and shifting patterns of wealth and wealth-transfer. There was increasing concern about violent crime. There was also a growing awareness that “Generation X” could, for the first time, not expect the promises of the “American Dream.” Education costs grew simultaneously with apparently decreasing abilities of American students. Corporate growth spawned franchised goods and services throughout America, so that even the smallest most remote communities began to look like all others regardless of region or cultural character. Changing farm patterns and the growth of the Interstate highway led to the demise of many towns. Changing patterns of transportation, communications, life expectancy and the stock market, all worked together to create situations in which significant numbers of people no longer needed to live where they worked. People began to move frequently and live in two or more places. A global economy affected how goods were manufactured and how Americans worked and how companies were organized. Economic patterns required two-worker families even among the middle class, with implications for leisure time and volunteerism. Numbers of biological, two-parent nuclear families diminished. Homelessness proliferated. Living with AIDS and HIV became a fact of life for many. The “Anglo” majority became the minority. Instant communications became possible via the World Wide Web (WWW). The Cold War, which had served the function of uniting some Americans against some external “enemy” ended. Medical breakthroughs helped people to live longer meaning more groups requesting, and requiring, help in articulating meaning in their lives. Environmental issues required attention, as environmental degradation became too great to be ignored. Changing ideas of the correct use of taxes resulted in ballot initiatives resulting in cuts to government services. There was general questioning of affirmative action, the role of government, religion, and the place of the United States in the world community.
All of these issues began to be reflected in the programs of local arts agencies as early as the mid-1960’s. Many community arts councils had added the cultural or inter-cultural festival to their activities. They began to look more broadly at their communities: The Arts In The Small Community: A National Plan (Gard, Warlum, & Kohlhoff, 1968/1993) proposed that local groups consider the environment (natural resources, health, local history) as well as certain groups of people (ethnic groups, youth, retired people) and collaborations with other local organizations (businesses, schools, colleges, religious institutions, service clubs, libraries) in forming community (Gard, Warlum, & Kohlhoff, 1968). Arts in the City, published in the same year, was echoing these ideas in an urban setting (Burgard, 1968).
As but one example of the evolution from a simple arts program to comprehensive reform, consider the local arts agency's changing role in education. Initially, arts councils took arts programs to schools for lecture-demonstrations and assembly programs. By the 1970’s councils began emphasizing artists-in-school residencies. They next began working on curriculum reform that emphasized the use of arts to achieve other learning objectives (improving reading ability, for instance) and social objectives (student retention).
During this period, local arts agencies tried to influence whole systems such as public education or social welfare. Numbers of program options became staggering in response to identified community needs. Continuing to the present it is common to discover local arts agencies doing everything that their prototypes did in 1949 with the addition of the new programs that the social and historical awareness of the 1960’s inspired. Council activities consisted of programmatic layers associated with arts education activity and social change initiatives. Local arts agencies began and continue to facilitate artist residency programs in settings as diverse as factories, corporate offices, homeless shelters, and hospices. Local arts agencies are often the facility-developer-manager in their community. Local arts agencies added programs for seniors, youth-at-risk, and other under-served community groups. They appeared at the table for the development and aesthetics of new housing, transportation, and community “redevelopment.” They are also at the table in comprehensive community economic development, planning and tourism. They began promoting their communities' artistic resources internationally on the Web. They pioneered entrepreneurial approaches to expand their financial and social capital. Through these comprehensive services, local arts agencies evolved into vitally important forces in their community. It is important to once again note that was accomplished in an era that began with widespread public support for local arts agencies and ends with shrinking resources and a sometimes-hostile governmental climate. This historical period concludes with art councils stretched to the limit, seeing more to be accomplished, and with beleaguered staffs overwhelmed by it all.
Adulthood (1990 – 1999)
By 1990, the National Assembly of Local Arts Agencies (NALAA) estimated 3,000 local arts agencies. Of these, about one third were staffed. As of 1999, Americans for the Arts estimates some 3,500.
Now is a crucial time to step back and reflect. The effective practitioner is the reflective practitioner – one who plans, acts, reflects, and replans based on that reflection. Like the 50-year-old person, those of us associated with local arts agencies are in a wonderful position, finally, to synthesize all of our experience and decide what we will do with that experience.
What have been some of our results? Most noticeably, local arts agencies are all pervasive - “a chicken is in every pot,” says Bill Moskin (personal communication). As an institution, local arts agencies are committed to breadth – all the arts/all the people. This is in sharp contrast to previous movements and other community arts institutions generally devoting themselves to depth – making a difference for a single art form or for a single group of people. Local arts agencies, because of their broad view and programs, have indeed met many community needs and the needs of artists and arts organizations. Cultural participation is probably broader than it might have been without them. Cultural planning has “put arts and culture on the radar screen of mayors and city planners.” (Dreeszen, personal communication).
Local arts agencies have affected people's attitudes, and polls are showing high acceptance of the arts.
More results: Americans are getting messages – about arts education for instance – that they would not otherwise receive. Audiences are probably larger and more diverse than they might have been. It is likely that private and corporate philanthropy is being affected by local arts agencies. It is probable that their grassroots voice has made a difference in the survival of the National Endowment for the Arts and in increasing state appropriations for the arts. It is certain that their effectiveness has resulted in increasing local public funds for the arts: “Arts councils…provide a voice and mechanism for the smaller groups to be appreciated by/supported by the private sectors.” (Gibans, personal communication). Across America, you can see the tangible work of local arts agencies as well, in many beautiful cultural facilities and works of public art, and in livelier cities and towns. Cultural understanding, perhaps racial tension has been lessened in places. Those of us associated with local arts agencies can be proud of our achievements.
It is tempting to hope that we are on the right path and we simply need to do more of the same, to finish the job we have begun. As over-extended people, we tend to see next steps in terms of streamlining, improving what is there, becoming more efficient - so that we can find a way to add more. We seek the better way to deliver technical assistance. The ultimate strategy to get the resources. The perfect board-development workshop that will mobilize people to do tasks better.
Yet more and more we hear that there is a “paradigm shift in the offing.” There are many conversations we need to engage in as we approach this new century. Here are a few:
- Most of us, I think, would agree that we are trying to do more than expand arts activity and audiences. Most would say that we are trying to affect behaviors and attitudes. But would we all agree on what behaviors and what attitudes? Just towards the arts? Or are we also talking about attitudes towards our communities? Towards one another? Towards the future? Are we trying to stimulate arts in our community, for our community, by our community, of our community? Once you go here you open many dialogues, many of them, perhaps, unsettling and uncomfortable. What's our responsibility to open that dialogue?
- Have we really changed thinking? Or have we primarily offered programs in the hopes that they change thinking? Remembering Harry Chapin's passionate exhortation to us at the first National Assembly of Community Arts Agencies’ convention, are we “the dance band on the Titanic?”
- We need to be at peace with what community arts are. Some of the questions involved are: Is community art one end of the spectrum with “fine art” on the other end? Or is community art an art form in itself? Similarly, are “process” and “product” ends of a spectrum or are they somehow melded? In short, how do we properly talk about, and evaluate, “community art?”
- Similarly, are we seeing our communities as settings in which the arts thrive (which would be measured, then, by “more arts” and “more people,” or are we ultimately after “more arts so that our communities thrive” (which would be measured in terms of increasing community “health”)? If this is a spectrum, given the very broad mission statements of most community arts councils, do we know where we choose to stand on this spectrum? Or is it a spectrum at all: is this a false distinction?
- Many community arts councils articulate a concern that working on social action issues may be diluting their core mission: “we're an arts group, not a community action group.” Is this still true? How can this be discussed? How do we correctly evaluate our work? In short, what is our “core mission” in the years ahead?
- Collaboration with arts and non-arts groups has proven an effective strategy for getting things done. Could collaboration be more than a strategy – is it conceivably a way of reconceptualizing a community as a whole? But if so, where is our identity?
- Does the “third sector” – non-profits – need to be re-framed? This question encompasses everything from governance models (maybe a well-done board development retreat isn't the “wellness pill” that we all seek) to budget development (why is “administrative overhead” such a bogeyman?) to “product development” (why don't we invest money in research / development and staff development? When we are asked to be “more like a business,” why does this only apply to responsible short-term management and not to these long-term investments?) Do we need to speak in our own voice, rather than in the voice of one looking to please grant panels or act like what a good non-profit “ought” to look like? Where, in short, is the correct language by which we describe ourselves, evaluate ourselves, and ask that others use to evaluate us? And having decided that – how do we ensure that those terms really are used in evaluating us?
- Similarly: it has been said that as the economy becomes more global, there is a commensurate hunger for the local, the authentic, the grounded. I believe that too. But, the local, the authentic is often not packageable, not replicable, not controllable, context-specific, and often involves small numbers. In short, it is not efficient. In a society in which the efficient is rewarded, how do we make our case?
- Have we put such emphasis on becoming credible as institutions that we're reaching the point where “institutionalization” is interfering with “getting the job done?”
- How do we truly affect the long run? This includes everything from re-thinking fundraising (emphasizing endowments for instance) to re-thinking the terms in which we define “success.”
- How do we move from finger-in-the-dike solutions to real systemic solutions to commonly agreed-upon problems? Maybe landing a part-time art teacher isn't the solution. Maybe changing the way a community conceives of educating children is the solution. How on earth can we, understaffed, underfunded, and often battling for our very existence, make any real difference? And if we apply significant people and financial resources to long-run strategies, how can we also continue to provide the wealth of programmatic activity that our funders and members expect?
- Should our movement shift from delivering programs to a primary emphasis on community policy-making? How on earth do we train and re-train ourselves to do so?
- How do we truly understand “diversity?” “Diversity” means more than people who may look different collectively doing “business as usual;” it implies willingness to listen, to be vulnerable, to change, to consider with courage that “business as usual” may be irrelevant, to truly redistribute power. Can we embrace this?
- Where are the new leaders going to come from? Why on earth would a young person want to enter this world – what is the “hook?”
- The nation seems to be re-thinking what American community and democracy is all about. Where are we in this discussion?
No doubt, there are many, many more questions. I feel hopeful, actually, and excited by questions such as these. I see in America today a hunger for grounding, healing, wholeness. I see a desire for the local, the “authentic,” the sense of community and family, the sense of specialness, of meaning, growing as the Internet grows.
- Does this kind of thinking imply more programs “layering” on an already-overburdened group of volunteers and staffs? Or do we need to “reset the counter to zero” and conceive of ourselves in a new way?
Maturity (2000 - )
The people who comprise the community arts council movement are people of all political persuasions and cultural groups. What I believe we have in common, though, is a common belief in the value and specialness and potential of each individual, a common awe at new ways of seeing, a joy in the achievement of others, a humanistic belief - so passionate that it verges on the “religious.” We acknowledge the goodness of humankind, a sense of justice, a love of home and home-place, a belief that working together is a good, a belief that synthesizing approaches is not only pragmatic but also delightful, a belief in service, a belief that all people have a right to create and to participate in their society. We believe in joy in life and bond in this shared philosophy. That's our first starting point, acknowledging this.
We can act from this grounding. But now we need to re-articulate how to do so. Ann Davis says: “The importance of the arts council movement in American culture, I believe, will be tied to the ability of leadership to question existing assumptions, examine contractions and obstacles, and invent something new – and sometimes moving forward may mean returning to something old [italics are Davis's]” (Davis, personal communication).
If, indeed, ideas and social concerns move in cycles, we would do well, at 50, to re-visit the ideas that led to our creation – those big ideas alluded to our period of “gestation” (Ewell, 1999). How do those “old” ideas fit with the world before us? With the experiences of our last 50 years? I believe what the “old” ideas have in common is a sense of wholeness: the wholeness of individual experience and opportunity. Fearless leadership.
At the beginning of the century, we ask the most basic question once again: what does it mean to be human? How do we live together well? As we look to the future, we begin by looking back. As we reach 50 and reflect on its meaning, we can truly say as Bob Dylan sings “I was so much older then / I'm younger than that now.”
Arvold, A. G. (1923). The little country theater. New York : Macmillan.
Brownell, B. (1950). The human community. New York: Harper.
Bugard, R. (1968). Arts in the city: Organizing and programming community arts councils. New York, Associated Councils of the Arts.
Dreeszen, C, & Korza, P. (Ed.). (1994). Fundamentals of Local Arts Management. Amherst, MA : published by the Arts Extension Service, Division of Continuing Education, University of Massachusetts, in cooperation with the National Assembly of Local Arts Agencies.
Dubois, R. D. (1943). Get together Americans: Friendly approaches to racial and cultural conflicts through the neighborhood-home festival. New York and London, Harper & brothers.
Gard, R. G. (1955). Grassroots theater: a search for regional arts in America. Madison, Universtiy of Wisconsin Press.
Gibans, N. F. (1982). The Community Arts Council Movement. New York: Praeger.
Graham-Wheeler, D. (1989). Forty years in the cultural lane. Winston-Salem, NC: Winston-Salem Arts Council.
Kanellos, N. (1990). The history of Hispanic theater in the United States: Origins to 1940. Austin: University of Texas.
Overton, P. (1997). Rebuilding the front porch of America: Essays on the art of community making. Columbia, MO: The Front Porch Institute.
Patten, M. (1932). The Arts Workshop of Rural America: A study of the rural arts program of the Agricultural Extension Service. New York, Columbia University Press.
Yuen, C. (1990). Community visions: A policy guide to local arts agency development. Washington, DC: National Assembly of Local Arts Agencies.
First, I am deeply indebted to the following 20-50 year veterans of the community arts council movement who responded to my request for insights that helped inform this paper:
Bitsy Bidwell, Ralph Burgard, Judith Chalker, E'Vonne Coleman, Charles Dambach, Ann Davis, Craig Dreeszen, John Everitt, Nina Gibans, Joe Golden, Donovan Gray, R. Philip Hanes, Jr., Lee Howard, Richard Huff, George Irwin, Molly LaBerge, Clark Mitze, Bill Moskin, Halsey North, David O’Fallon, Anne Ogden, Patrick Overton, Leonard Pas, Bill Pratt, Anthony Radich, Milton Rhodes, Sen. Stan Rosenberg, Juliana Sciolla, Winnie Scott, Romalyn Tilghman, Mike Warlum.
Books and reports:
Americans for the Arts (formerly National Assembly of Local Arts Agencies), “Arts for America: A Vision for the Future,” 1988
Arvold, Alfred, The Little Country Theater, MacMillan, 1923.
Brownell, Baker, The Human Community, Harper and Bros., 1950.
Burgard, Ralph, Arts in the City, Associated Councils of the Arts, 1968.
Davis-Dubois, Rachel, Get Together Americans: Friendly Approaches to Racial and Cultural Conflicts through the Neighborhood-Home Festival, Harper and Bros,1943.
Dreeszen, Craig and Pam Korza, Fundamentals of Local Arts Management (second edition) Arts Extension Service – University of Massachusetts, 1994.
Gard, Robert, Grassroots Theater: A Search for Regional Arts in America, originally published by University of Wisconsin Press; reprinted by Greenwood Press, c. 1970, reprinted by University of Wisconsin Press 1999.
Gard, Robert, and David Semmes, America’s Players, Seabury Press, 1967.
Gard, Robert, Michael Warlum and Ralph Kohlhoff, The Arts in the Small Community:
A National Plan, University of Wisconsin, 1968; reprinted by Americans for the Arts c. 1993.
Gibans, Nina Freedlander, The Community Arts Council Movement: History, Opinions, Issues, Praeger, 1982.
Golden, Joseph, Pollyanna in the Brier Patch: The Community Arts Movement, Syracuse University Press, 1987.
Graham-Wheeler, Dorothy, “Forty Years in the Cultural Lane: the Winston-Salem Arts Council, Inc., Winston-Salem, North Carolina,” Internship Report (Arts Management) for Salem College, 1989.
Kanellos, Nicolas, The History of Hispanic Theater in the United States: Origins to 1940, University of Texas Press, 1990.
Mayer, Robert A., “The Local Arts Council Movement,” background paper prepared for The National Partnership Meeting, June 23-25, 1990.
Overton, Patrick, Rebuilding the Front Porch of America: Essays on the Art of Community Making, Columbia College, 1997.
Patten, Marjorie, The Arts Workshop of Rural America: A Study of the Rural Arts Program of the Agricultural Extension Service, Columbia University Press, 1937; reprinted by Greenwood Press, c. 1970.
Porter, Robert, ed, Community Arts Agencies: A Handbook and Guide, American Council for the Arts, 1978.
Poston, Richard, Small Town Renaissance, Harper and Bros., 1950; reprinted by Greenwood Press, 1971.
Yuen, Cheryl, ed, Community Vision: A Policy Guide to Local Arts Agency Development, Americans for the Arts (formerly National Assembly of Local Arts Agencies), 1990
Website, articles, other:
Basic information on Jane Addams and Hull House. http://www.chicagohs.org/AOTM/Mar98/mar98fact1.html
Arvold, Alfred, “The Community Center Movement,” North Dakota A.C., vol. 1, no.3, May-June, 1917
Canon City Daily Record, “The Seeds and Roots of Frem
ont Center for the Arts,” May 6, 1999
Rockefeller Archives, Tarrytown, New York, records and correspondence on funding for Cornell University (Alexander Drummond), University of Montana (Baker Brownell), University of North Carolina (Frederick Koch), University of Wisconsin (Robert Gard)
The Montana Study
The Montana Study was an experiment with community study groups to determine how the resources of higher education in Montana could help stabilize and improve community living in the small towns of that state. The study was carried out between 1943 and 1947 by Montana State University (now the University of Montana) and was funded by the Rockefeller Foundation.
The Montana Study provided community members with an active voice in community planning. Participants could make their own industry and employment opportunities. Participants could also research and write the histories of their towns and present this heritage to the community in the form of pageants, plays, art, music, and literature. This self-sufficiency and reflection on the community’s part established the communion and order of an autonomous city while simultaneously building relationships among community members to support it.
Montana’s statehood was only 55 years old in 1944. Many residents remembered the days when vigilantes settled matters of corruption with lynchings and gunfights. Buffalo herds had long since disappeared and the cattle industry suffered severe winter conditions. Montana had a colonial economy because large mining and electric power industries were controlled from New York City. Many communities were poor with homes without electricity and indoor plumbing.
Reformers were interested in upgrading the life of Montana’s communities, many of which had withered when one big industry or another pulled out of town during the Great Depression. Facilitators of community studies believed that community stability might grow by partnering Montana’s communities with the state university system (Counter, 1991, p. 23).
In 1940, Ernest O. Melby came to Missoula, Montana as President of Montana State University. Melby came from Northwestern University, in Illinois, and was a contemporary of John Dewey and William James. He was known as “an optimist, idealist, and a dreamer” (Counter, 1991, p.34). Melby’s job at Montana State was part of a larger statewide effort to streamline state government. Melby undertook the reform of the University and the repair of its deteriorating infrastructure. He was convinced that adult education from the university would bring public support for the funding of higher education in Montana (Poston, 1950, p. 17). Indeed, the State University system was under funded because of a lack of taxpayer support. Many constituents saw no direct effect of the university on their lives and understood higher education as something removed from them. When Melby was appointed Chancellor of the Montana State University System, in 1943, he sought to create ways that the State University had a direct effect on the lives of ordinary people. The Montana Study would become one way in which this was accomplished.
David H. Stevens, Director of the Humanities Division of the Rockefeller Foundation, proposed community study groups to enable community members to solve some of their social, economic, and cultural problems. After some negotiation and planning, in 1944, the Rockefeller Foundation made a three-year grant of $25,000 to fund the Montana Study. The Study was structured around three objectives:1.) to discover ways to stabilize community and family;Three staff members administered the study: philosopher Baker Brownell, from Harvard University; the rural sociologist Paul Meadows, from Northwestern University; and the Montana journalist Joseph Kinsey Howard. Howard was a known critic of Anaconda Copper and Montana Power for their colonial treatment of Montana communities. The towns of Lonepine, Darby, Stevensville, Woodman, Hamilton, Victor, Conrad, Lewistown, Libby, Dixon, and a Native American Group at Salish-Kootenai reservation were the sites for study (Counter, 1991, p. 9).
2.) to find ways to bring facilities of higher education directly to the people in their communities and in their occupational situation; and
3.) to research ways to raise the appreciative and spiritual standards of living of able young people in their home communities (Counter, 1991, p. 8).
July 1, 1944 was day one of the Montana Study. The first task was to create a guide for community research. Community groups would follow this guide for their community plans. There was “no attempt to tell others how to run their communities or how to organize their lives.” Community projects were to be “the work of the people participating with one another, studying and discussing their own community with a view toward improvement” (Poston, 1950, p. 25). The strategy of the guide was built on a series of research questions, designed by the study administrators on topics of social, economic, and political issues. These topics were analyzed in relation to the past, the present, and the future. After the manual was piloted in Lonepine, it was distributed to all the sites.
To execute the directions in the study manual, communities set up study groups. Each week these groups explored a topic area. They went out to research the topic themselves and returned with data. The data was analyzed in the group discussion and they wrote up their interpretations and discussed them as a group.
Counter (1991) summed up the sequence of a typical community study. Week one: The group examined the composition of their communities in terms of nationality, history, occupation, religion, politics, education, recreation. Week two was about people in the community, their human connections, the groups to which they belonged. Participants traced patterns of companionship in, churches, schools, lodges, clubs, and other kinds of recreation. Week three was a look at how community members made their living. Week four: The group examined the relation of their community to the State. In week five they examined cultural differences and week six was the relation of community to the nation.
From this point, the study shifted to projecting aims for the future. Week Seven, the group speculated on the future of Montana. Week eight was about the future of the community. Week nine was the planning of community action to stabilize the community, in synthesis, such that they could manage change, provide community members with ways to make a living and to strengthen the educational, cultural, and artistic aspects of community. The last topic was the group’s evaluation of the goal of the study, their ability to discuss community matters with a minimum of prejudice and with a fair degree of objectivity.
The study groups made significant impacts. In Lonepine, several study groups considered the problem of recreation.1 The group contacted specialists in Denver, Colorado for advice. “They raised money for remodeling the community building, put in new equipment and a simple lunch concession” (Brownell, 1950, p. 47) Another group organized a drama about the history of Lonepine.
From the study also came conferences about some of the larger issues that the study revealed. The conferences were held throughout the state on modern trends in rural life, family, church, and state. Forest Community research dealt with sustained landscape management of over harvested forests in Western Montana. Participants addressed problems between community and lumber industry (Counter, 1991, p. 52). These conferences became the means to formulate and transmit a body of educational knowledge to a wider audience. These events also provided ways to improve the community and state economies, cultures, and education.
Community members found that relations between school and community needed improvement and ideas from the history and culture of the community were included in school curriculum. Groups suggested ways that teachers could be trained to guide and promote continuous community programming. The programs would cover such issues as modern problems of communication technology, and perceptions of the world and of nature. Activities ranged from book reviews to recreation and involvement in art, music, and drama. Teacher retention was also addressed with calls for improved salaries and housing. The study suggested ways to make teachers feel at home. As some teachers were forced to rent quarters in rat-infested hotels, communities were encouraged to plan for better housing for teachers.
Community members also found that drama promoted communication, organization and relationships. Brownell (1950) wrote that “[a]rt as a function of communal behavior belongs to the evaluative aspect of life” (p.265). One of these events was an historical pageant about the city of Darby. The pageant was drawn from the history of struggle when the logging industry pulled out of Lincoln County. The pageant was written, produced, and cast from the community. Productions like this drew upon the dramaturgy of the community itself, that is, for a group of community members to pull together their efforts and create drama for the edification and reflection of the larger community.
One of the major literary works from the Montana Study was Joseph K. Howard’s Montana Margins (1946). Howard’s work promoted Montana communities and their economic and cultural life. The work was an anthology for teaching historical literacy and included speeches, political documents, poetry, novels and non-fiction by Montana authors. Montana Margins was published, in 1946, by Yale University Press. This work set forth a lexicon of Montana’s literary culture with the added value of the Yale Press imprint.
After 1946, the Montana Study was on shaky ground. World War II had ended, along with interest in community planning. The pall of the Great Depression faded and Federal Relief Projects were dismantled. In general, the kinds of community activities that provided relief from this economic depression were now regarded by some as unnecessary, or as socialistic and, therefore, suspect. As the post-war prosperity burst forth and university enrollment boomed, focus of education turned to the success and expression of the individual. In this way, the collective emphasis of the Montana Study appeared to have no tangible benefit to the Montana State University System. Melby, Brownell, and Howard left the project, leaving only an English teacher, Ruth Robinson, to carry on as acting director. When the Montana State Legislature refused to fund the Montana Study another year, The Rockefeller Foundation agreed to extend funding for the study only if Robinson were hired on as university faculty. But she was not hired, and the Rockefeller Foundation withdrew support and the study was over (Counter, 1991, p. 62).
Reflection on Issues
The Montana Study is framed by three sweeping changes. The communications revolution provided the ability to transcend conventions of geographic space and time with the immediacy of broadcasting and faster transportation. Next, the organizational revolution was the bureaucracy of industry that developed since the middle 19th century. This was a new middle class of people who organized work, production, distribution, and consumption. They were the first to obtain power as salaried workers and not property owners. Finally, the organic revolution includes the processes and relations of people in every day life and artistic activities (Susman, 1984, p. 240).
Community studies were also organized to promote cultural activities in small American towns. The difference between culture transmitted across the mass media and that transmitted in community studies is that community studies fostered the direct involvement of community members, who worked together to formulate and express their own cultural rituals and ideas. These relationships were the means by which community change could occur. The Montana Study grew from this tradition of community self-sufficiency.
The facilitators of the Montana Study also believed strongly in the importance of cities and civilization. As a consequence the Montana Study was influenced by cities as standards for every aspect of civilization from social conduct to architecture. People of the gilded age believed that good architecture bore direct influence on the formation of ones character (Smeins, 1999, p.17). With all its good and bad traits, the city was called the proving ground for the measure of character. Thomas Aquinas said that to be a good Christian one must live in the city (as cited in Susman, 1984, p.242). Indeed, many Protestant evangelical orators went westward, from the 19th century into the 20th century, to preach the virtues of moral, civilized living along with stories of the “Holy City,” and “Zion,” of myth. However, these orators trounced the culture of American “Earthly” cities as evil places of vice and corruption. The American city as source of the moral, social, and cultural order was lost in the myths of the evil and ideal cities.
Later, broadcasting and mass culture would transmit the myth of the ideal city to the rural spaces, what Lewis Mumford (1961) termed the “Invisible City”, which he felt was society misled by the technocracy of mass communication. This technocracy was similar to the fragmented society that the Montana Study sought to put in check. Others argued that these mass cultural influences made positive impacts on listeners and brought the city’s culture into homes; rural and urban alike (Cremin, 1988; Susman, 1984).
The purpose of the Montana Study was to bring higher education and improved life to Montana communities. However, the study also carried out the progressive charge that civilization was the result of intelligence, the arts, social enjoyment and increased mental activity.
1. Several young people complained that not enough recreation was available and that they sought to leave Lonepine, which would have led to instability of the population.
Brownell, B. (1950). The human community: Its philosophy and practice for a time of crisis. New York Harper and Brothers.
Counter, J. E. (1991). The Montana Study: Idealistic failure or innovative success (Doctoral dissertation, Montana State University, 1991). Dissertation Abstracts International, 52, A3154.
Cremin, L. A. (1988). American education: The metropolitan experience. New York: Harper and Row.
Howard, H. K. (1946). Montana margins: A state anthology. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Poston, R. W. (1950). Small town renaissance: A story of the Montana Study. New York: Harper and Brothers.
Mumford, L. (1961). The city in history: its origins, its transformations, and its prospects. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World.
Smeins, L. E. (1999). Building an American identity : Pattern book homes and communities, 1870-1900. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press.
Susman, W. I. (1984). Culture as history: The transformation of American society in the twentieth century. New York: Pantheon Books
Maryo Ewell is Associate Director of the Colorado Council on the Arts. Prior to joining the CCA Council in 1982, she was Director of Community Programs at the Illinois Arts Council, and before that, she worked for two community arts councils in Connecticut. In fact, she has been hooked on community arts since her first summer job in Wisconsin in 1967. In 1995 she was honored by Americans for the Arts with their highest award in grassroots community arts development, the Selina Roberts Ottum award. She has a M.A. in Planning from CU-Denver; a M.A. in Organizational Behavior from Yale; and a B.A. in Social Psychology from Bryn Mawr College.
Clayton Funk is on the Research Services Staff of the Milbank Memorial Library at Teachers College, Columbia University. He has also taught educational research and thesis writing courses at Queens College, CUNY and at SUNY New Paltz.
He has an M.F.A. in painting from Bowling Green State University and an Ed.D. in Art Education from Teachers College. He is also a degree candidate at the Graduate School of Library and Information Studies, Queens College, CUNY. Research interests include American art, material culture, architecture and education during the early twentieth century.
May, 1997. Volume 1, No. 1: A Tool for Analysis of Web Sites' Accessibility to Users with Disabilities. Douglas Blandy, Ph.D. July, 1997. Volume 1, No. 2: The Arts Management Employment Interview. Deborah Snider November, 1997. Volume 1, No. 3: The Invisible Careers for Latinos: Public History and Museum Studies. Miguel Juarez February, 1998. Volume 2, No. 1: Art Crimes: Building a Digital Museum/Graffiti Battle Crown. Susan Farrell April, 1998. Volume 2, No. 2: The Florida Farmworkers Project. Kristin Congdon. June, 1998. Vol. 2, No. 3: The Arts as Commodity, Stan Madeja; The Non-Profit and Commercial Arts: Understanding Future Options, David B. Pankratz September, 1998 Vol. 2 No.4: What Is Community Cultural Development and How Do We Practice It? Bill Flood January, 1999 Vol. 3 No.1: The Rise and Fall of the California Confederation of the Arts: 1976 - 1997. Anne W. Smith April, 1999 Vol. 3 No. 2: Paul Olum Mobile Hemi-Bust, Michael Randles; Outlaw Murals, Laura Feldman July, 1999. Vol. 3, No. 3: Economic and Leisure Factors Impacting Participation in the Arts by Middle Aged Adults, Gaylene Carpenter, Ed.D.; WESTAF Launches www.artjob.org, Searchable Arts Employment and Opportunities Web Site. September, 1999. Vol. 3, No. 4: Art Teacher Censorship of Student Produced Art in Georgia's Public High Schools. Bruce Bowman January, 2000. Vol. 4, No. 1: Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective (Part I.) Maryo Ewell. Family-Focused Programming Between the Arts and Social Services. Barbara Harris April, 2000. Vol. 4, No. 2: Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective (Part II.) Maryo Ewell; Thinking Ahead: Disaster Preparedness for Museums. Yvonne Lever June, 2000. Vol. 4, No.2: Community Arts Councils: Historical Perspective (Part IiI.) Maryo Ewell; Why is the Mona Lisa Smiling?
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