The pandemic has forcibly enriched the arsenal of ways in which the artistic community can receive assistance. While the types of such assistance are largely known in Russia, there is little mention of the way in which artists and cultural institutions in the West, in the USA in particular, are supported. Curator and art consultant, Alisa Lisovskaia, talks about how the American art system has lived and how the mechanisms for its financing have recently transformed.

During the pandemic in Russia, the situation surrounding the state funding of cultural institutions changed little compared with the pre-crisis period. However, in the United States, considered the leading centre for contemporary art and one of the largest art markets in the world, the financing and support for artists in the face of this crisis time has transformed into a complex, multi- component system with a very active private initiative. Historically opposed to the British form of governance, the United States decided not to follow the centralised European model of sponsorship for the arts and culture and instead developed its own system based on partial state sponsorship, private philanthropy and donations from individuals and corporations (which is why art entrepreneurship is extremely common in the USA).

America has several options for financing institutions devoted to culture and the arts. First, revenue from one’s own work, meaning funds earned from ticket sales, souvenirs and merchandise, advertising, rental of premises, trade union contributions, educational programs and much more. It would appear that ticket numbers restrict this revenue source quite severely although, compared to European and Russian institutions, we are talking about a very large percentage of the total revenue due to the ticket cost: American cultural institutions alone receive up to 40% of profit from their sale.

Information about American museum revenue is in the public domain thanks to the Association of Art Museum Directors, which regularly conducts surveys in the museum environment, analyses museum activities and various aspects of art institution operations in America. Using the Metropolitan Museum of Art as an example, we see how the revenue is distributed: for 2018–2019, profit from ticket sales amounted to $55 million; in 2020 it fell, of course, to $37.5 million. If we look at more global statistics, covering museums in the USA, Mexico and Canada, we see that in 2018, ticket sales in these countries brought the museums only 7% of their total revenue, which, in addition to government grants (22%) and federal and regional subsidies (20%), included individual and family subscriptions (6%), corporate subscriptions (1%), individual and family donations (10%), corporate donations (4%), donations from trusts and foundations (8%), income from hosting events (4%), the museum shop (8%), the café, educational programmes and rental of museum equipment (6%) and other minor revenue streams (6%). From 2003 to 2017, ticket revenue has grown from 15% to 27%, while we need to keep in mind the allocated free admissions, which might account for up to one third of the total ticket volume.

Second, financing comes from funds allocated from the state budget. However, this does need to be qualified. Most often, major museums and libraries top the lists of recipients of government grants. There are so-called shared subsidies, under which the institution needs to find part of the total sum that the National Endowment for the Arts allocates it for organising a certain programme. Another form of easing is also important to note and that is tax breaks that the state provides to cultural institutions. In addition to the National Endowment for the Arts, there are other major organisations on a federal level: The Institute of Museum and Library Services, the National Endowment for the Humanities and the National Archives and Records Administration.

On a regional level, budgets vary greatly from state to state; during the presidencies of George W. Bush and Barack Obama, spending on culture increased advantageously across America. One of the reasons behind this policy was the position of these federal organisations: the museum or library is a brand of the city or the entire state in its own right. For example, New York, Los Angeles and Washington boast many world-famous cultural institutions that are part of the must-see tourist route. These sites are symbols of the cities and a part of their economy: the Griffith Observatory and the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim Museum in New York, the National Museum of Aviation and the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington. For smaller cities, the development of institutions like these could be an opportunity to enhance both the social and cultural status of the region.

If we delve deeper into the political and historical context, it is worth saying that Donald Trump coming to power heralded certain cuts in funding for the arts and culture. Dana Gioia, former chair of the National Endowment for the Arts, warned about this in 2017, describing it as one of the largest: at that time, the foundation handed out about two thousand grants a year, “investing in regional economies… regional museums, art organisations.” Gioia additionally gave the example of the administrations of Colorado and California who one day decided to cut their arts budgets. However, after Gioia announced he would be unable to send grants to their respective states, they changed their minds and left all cultural institutions intact. Gioia explains: “Supporting the arts and art education it not a partisan issue. If you ask people if they want to development art in their communities and schools, you hear an affirmative response in the majority of cases. People get confused, thinking that there is some federal arts agency that funds several elite artistic organisations. What the National Endowment for the Arts really does is fund arts programmes that are mostly created in your community by people in your communities to serve your communities.”

Third, American institutions of culture and the arts are funded by private foundations and corporations. The names of companies and individuals who provide regular support or who have made a one-time donation in a particularly large amount are usually well known. For example, a wall with a list of patrons adorns the entrance to the Art Institute of Chicago. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has a list of corporate patrons by the month. For example, in November 2020 they included American Express, Bank of America, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Colgate Palmolive, Google, Goldman Sachs and many other world-famous companies.

These three sources of financial support for American cultural institutions are not the only ones. In addition to museums, libraries, cultural centres and other institutions, developing the arts and culture in their respective region, there are galleries which, although artistic, are more related to the art business, and private initiatives. It is worth dwelling on these in more detail.

There are art initiatives in the United States of various scales, including private museums, consisting of the collections of their founders (such as The Broad museum of Eli and Edith Broad), private galleries in almost every large and medium-sized city, individual multi-purpose projects, including those online, such as the Initiatives in Art and Culture website, engaged in educational programmes and support for artists through conferences, publications and exhibitions. Another major website, Americans for the Arts, offers its network of contacts for consultation, financial and informational support for art-based projects and for finding sponsors and local agencies to work with artists.

The article Public vs private art collections: who controls our cultural heritage?, which appeared in the American online magazine Conversation in 2017, asked whether art was now moving towards the privatisation of public heritage: “Faced with a lack of adequate public funding for the arts, the generosity of individuals can fill a significant gap in a city’s cultural life.” The pandemic has shown that private initiatives are sufficient to organise a kind of network for mutual assistance and support for cultural and art workers in different cities and states. A number of different forums, sites and platforms dedicated to art, and galleries of various sizes have also joined the rescue mission. They have all committed to representing young, unknown, promising artists.

From early in the pandemic, a major gallery of art dealer Larry Gagosian decided to represent Titus Kaphar, Thaddaeus Ropac’s gallery of sculptor Ron Mueck, the Detroit Library Street Collective of artist Jammie Holmes and the Los Angeles-based Roberts Projects gallery of Wangari Mathenge. London’s Stephen Friedman Gallery and New York’s Hollis Taggart Gallery have started revealing even more new names. The latter commented on the gallery’s decision to represent three young artists who have just become prominent figures in the American art market — Kenichi Hoshine, Hollis Heichemer and Leah Guadagnoli: “We started working with these three artists during the pandemic because we knew we wanted to represent them and we thought this might prove to be a powerful statement for moving forward in challenging times… It was a great help for them; we were able to give them a sense of security.”

Chicago’s Mariane Ibrahim Gallery has also followed this tactic during the lockdown by showing the work of Ugandan artist Ian Mwesiga. The owner says: “We haven’t even met personally. I had planned to visit Ian… but because of the restrictions in movement, I postponed.” Instead of visiting the artist’s studio, Mariane met with him online each week and ensured there was no risk in her gallery representing him. Therefore, both for the galleries and young artists, that very unique moment has come when it is now possible to enrich the artistic environment with new names, help those in need and create relevant content that has a receptive audience and resonates around the world, immersed in the fight against the virus.

Websites such as Artwork Archive contain lists of foundations that support artists, performers and musicians. There are also grants for creative individuals from ethnic, national and sexual minorities (Anonymous Was A Woman Emergency Relief Grant or Artists Now). Some residences, supported by regional foundations, such as Amplify Arts Micro Grants in the states of Washington, Nebraska and Iowa, offer micro-grants to individuals in culture and the arts, artistic associations and groups.

Educational platforms that promote the arts among Americans have been setting up their own foundations since the spring. Trickle Up, which aims, among other things, to help artists in need due to the pandemic, has about ten thousand subscribers who donate $10 a month; in this way, about $100,000 is collected, which is then distributed among artists and performers who have suffered from cancellations of exhibitions, fairs and other professional and career plans. Another example is the Artsy art forum, which has promised to give 10% of its revenue from the sale of four Give Back collections to a specially created COVID-19 Solidarity Response Fund. Such a donations system does not affect artists’ or galleries’ revenue as Artsy covers all expenditure itself.

The personal initiatives of artists who worry about the fate of the American creative class are also noteworthy. Their enthusiasm and willingness to help often capture huge social media audiences, and a strong call to action generates a colossal return. The artist Guy Stanley Philoche from New York, famous for his colourful, richly-textured abstract paintings, spent more than $65,000 purchasing works of other artists (his own works fetch up to $120,000). Philoche decided to devote his time to find artists who are barely making ends meet, and buy 150 works from them for up to $500 each. It all began when Philoche bought the work of an artist friend who, with the advent of the pandemic, had found himself, with his family, in a very vulnerable position. Philoche later went on to post a video on Instagram, requesting images of works by artists who are also in a difficult situation so he could buy the pieces he liked and thus support them in their time of need.

The artist Matthew Burrows designed a similar initiative, using Instagram to call on colleagues using the hashtag #artistsupportpledge to post images of work for sale and priced at no more than $230 (including delivery costs). Applying this idea, every time Burrows made more than $1,115, he needed to give £230 of it to another artist by purchasing their work. This effort created an incredible ripple effect, the momentum spreading so quickly that Burrows decided to announce The Tyson Award of $230, given to five artists every week for a month and a half; a special distinguished guest would choose candidates from among the participants in the movement who put up their works for sale.

Last year, which for many was a crisis year for many walks of life, illustrated that art entrepreneurs are gaining particular weight and power in these conditions. They can connect their own established network of contacts, create art communities, self-organise to create an artist’s support project, as was the case, for example, with Pia Singh’s by & for, which appeared in April 2020.

Over the last 11 years, Pia has worked as an independent art entrepreneur in India and the USA, and for the last 6 years as an independent curator. The idea behind the project as a way to care for the local art community in Chicago came from her work experience, education and background: she was interested in the cultural and political aspects of the art community, self-organized art initiatives, collectives and their ecosystems.

Initially, Pia approached twenty artists whom she knew personally. Of these, more than half responded (this is how the first “edition” of the future auction was formed, and each offered one of their works at half the price of the pre-pandemic market value. Pia calls it a “blind curatorial process” because it relies entirely on the choice of the artists. In turn, she expects them to trust in the way the bidding process is run. After selecting a work, a description of the artist and the work is generated for the project’s account on Instagram, social networks and related platforms. Then the auction is held, which closes at the end of the bidding and the sale of works. Revenue from all works sold in each “edition” is shared equally among all artists. In this way, irrespective of the standing of any given artist, everyone involved takes part merely to look after one another.

The founder stresses that the project was conceived as a collective action, so she intends to invite other curators and organisers in the arts to fundraise for a self-selected group of artists. According to Pia, this is the only way that an art environment could be created “based on caring and fellowship, and not on the evaluation of work or fame in terms of money.” When selecting artists for her project from social networks, Pia relies mainly on her own proven contacts and recommendations.

Despite the fact that using Instagram as the platform for the project was not unexpected, Pia says that she is not happy with it in everything: for example, it is not user-friendly for those of a certain age group (50–75 years old), “who have historically been more involved in shaping the art market and blue-chip client bases (here — the works of leading artists in the auction bidding. — Artguide), not to mention the fact that they have predominantly served the boards of directors of non-profit organisations and museums in the West.” Therefore, Pia is looking at expanding the project beyond Instagram and at possible collaboration, for example, with artists from New York and with the New York Art Book Fair. The team working on organising the Book Fair intended to use Pia’s project as a showcase for those normally involved in bookmaking and illustration, which would give the project a viral effect and a strong boost for its development.

The community has grown and, accordingly, the number of active bidders has grown too, and this is down to each “edition” bringing its own audience, as the exhibiting artists and guest curators are encouraged to activate their own network of contacts and disseminate material on the project. As Pia puts it, by & for does not have a target audience; anyone expressing an interest in supporting artistic practices during the crisis is invited.

The founder remains unsure about the project’s future but she believes it has good prospects. For example, there is mileage in thinking about turning it into an app. That said, she believes, many are still waiting for events to be held in a specifically offline format.

Pia comments that, in light of the move online, oversized works tend to give way to more compact ones. In addition, the younger generation is now experiencing a fresh draw to art. Pia recalls that after the Second World War, people experienced a renewed love for art, a desire to collect, and she draws a parallel with the Black Lives Matter movement that rocked America last summer. It might well have created space for a self-organised effort in the art environment to fundraise and help arts communities in need.

The events of 2020 and the pandemic have heavily altered the balance of power in the US and international art markets, and completely transformed the conditions under which medium-sized players can exist there. It’s nice to know that the creative class, finding itself in a difficult situation, has received many opportunities from both public and private funds. Indeed, corporations, arts associations, museums and even private entrepreneurs have performed a considerable volume of fundraising work. Moreover, the pandemic has acted as a trigger, launching many projects to support young artists. This encouraging news, against the backdrop of the lockdown, has shown that the art community, despite criticism and even doubts about its existence, was able to consolidate at a difficult time to help its most needy members.