So Now What? Visual Arts in Eugene & Springfield

“In our third year of producing the visual arts issue, ArtsHound, it’s become clear that the best things — art that moves, heals, inspires and connects — come in quiet packages without much fanfare.” — Alex V. Cipolle, Eugene Weekly, 10/01/15

“The art scene in Eugene is bleak.” — John O’Malley, Eugene Weekly, 11/11/15

“Our art scene sucks.” — Courtney Stubbert, Eugene Weekly, 11/12/15

“You don’t need money, just the passion to make the art scene happen in Eugene.” — Steve La Riccia, Eugene Weekly, 11/25/15

“So now what?” — Bob Keefer, Eugene Art Talk, 12/01/15

On November 23rd, I attended a meeting at the Maude Kerns Art Center for an “in-depth conversation” about “the current conditions, needs, and aspirations of artists.” Organized by the Oregon Arts Commission, who are undertaking a project to document “Oregon’s visual arts ecology,” the assembled event ended up providing a fairly good representation of the state of things in Eugene-Springfield’s particular artistic ecology. Further, many of those assembled seemed visibly concerned about the general health of the arts in our region, and the announced closings of the Jacobs Gallery and the Gallery at the Watershed no doubt validated that worry. However, despite some useful insights gleaned, including a proposed studio-space initiative from ArtCity Eugene, I feel like we aren’t having the conversations we need to be having.

When I hear from frustrated individuals that the art scene in my backyard is sub-par, that it is “bleak” or “sucks,” I empathize strongly. I also recognize those sentiments won’t endear them to the artists and arts professionals who can feel under-appreciated publicly plugging away trying to nurture the kind of community that would improve our scene’s poor reputation of late. Still — despite every painting sold and show organized, even the most eager optimist has to admit that there’s a general sense of pieces missing from the tapestry of Eugene’s artistic life. The visual arts don’t feel like a real priority here, aside from providing something nice for the cafe walls, and the lack of excitement and energy is palpable, discouraging the kind of interactions that might provide the sparks needed for true renewal.

Usually these conversation gravitate towards money. Does any local art space have any, can one get some more, is anyone selling enough work to make a living, how can we sell more without becoming novelty peddlers, will the booming tech/brewery/marijuana industry hurt or help any of those equations? But I think this line of thinking puts the cart before the horse; money sure is nice, but dump trucks full of the stuff can’t create the relationships, conversations, and interactions necessary to creating excitement which fuels sales, draws collectors, and sets the stage for ever-more ambitious projects. Likewise, I think the “pull ourselves up by our bootstraps” advice, often doled out by both sides in the “sucks / no it doesn’t” back-and-forth is at best only half-right. Yes, every scene, every movement, needs committed individuals willing to do the work, but no amount of elbow grease will overcome some of the hurdles we collectively face.

What needs to happen now is real effort, not necessarily towards new spaces, though I certainly want to see that happen, or even more shows, as much as I’d like to engage in a dialog with the public through my chosen mediums — but towards the awkward, often impolitic, work of building relationships among artists in overlapping circles of mutual support and critique. As we stand there are some pretty considerable gaps in how things are working here, between “townies” and students, between different generations of artists, different subcultural pockets, and between the intersections of class, race, gender, and background. Frankly, we aren’t really talking to one another, and we certainly aren’t getting collectively excited about artists outside our own small social circles. We’ve abdicated the responsibility for the health of the arts to those who don’t always have the same priorities we do.

The kind of excitement that drives sales, new spaces, and more shows, can only happen organically, from the bottom up. Foundations and government bodies could conceivably rain more cash down on us, but they are almost always been an obstacle to new visions, and new movements, especially now. We live in a time where art is seen as a tool of gentrification, instead of a challenge to it. We live in a time of ever-expanding disparities between the rich and the poor, and we live in a time where our art should be echoing the anxieties of our time, instead of weaving distractions from it.

I don’t have any easy prescriptions here, but I do have some suggestions on how we can get started towards building the arts community I think many of us want.

1. We have to stop thinking about how they do it in Portland, Seattle, Los Angeles, or New York. We will never be them, no matter how hip Eugene becomes. We need to nurture our own space, in conversation with, but not in comparison to, the larger art metropolises many of us dream of thriving in.
2. No one will come from outside to “save” our arts scene. Not the foundations, not the rich university donors, not the arts professionals from neighboring cities. If “we” don’t do it, it will never happen.
3. Without a functioning, robust, local fine arts press, we will continue to work in relative isolated islands. There are a few folks locally doing some good, important, work, but much more has to happen. We need more zines, blogs, websites, rogue reviewers, pot-stirrers, and artistic instigators. We have to go beyond the rants (including this one), and move towards talking about the work.
4. Surviving local visual arts organizations need to literally sit down together in the same room and coordinate. Competition needs to end, and collaboration needs to be the watch-word. There’s little excuse for some of the duplication and direct competition that’s been happening.
5. Nobody is going to get paid for a while. Everything is going to be shoestring and artist-funded until an ecosystem of collectors, art spaces, and organizations becomes robust enough to start picking up that slack. Right now — most of the arts orgs in town are doing their best to simply keep operating at their current levels.
6. Let’s start a series of rotating “artist” nights at the ever-growing number of bars and public spaces here. Let us collectively sponsor talks, discussions, conspiracies, arguments, and critiques. Let’s stop waiting for the promise of a group show to bring us together. We only side-eye each other at those things anyway.
7. Let us start thinking seriously of creating collective artist-run studio spaces. There needs to be spaces that incubate the future, and provide an alternative to functions that treat visual art as an after-thought, or advertisement for local retail establishments.
8. We have to “embrace the suck.” We can certainly celebrate our successes, but we have to be clear-eyed about the hurdles ahead of us if we are serious about change.
9. Local industry leaders, business owners, and personages of import who talk about supporting the arts without buying and collecting local art aren’t actually interested in the health of our local arts scene. Let’s remember that.

Oh, and a bonus: what happened here 20 or 30 years ago doesn’t matter much, if it doesn’t improve the lot of artists living and working here now.

Since moving to Eugene several years ago, I’ve been content to do my own work, stay on the sidelines, and occasionally dip my toe in the waters when it was convenient of me to do so. I won’t pretend to know everything, and I’m still trying to talk to other artists to get a sense of all the contours of what’s going on here, but what is clear is that there’s a new urgency in how we talk and think about the visual arts in Eugene. There’s a sense that we are reaching a crisis point, and that the prosperity some sectors of our home are enjoying isn’t “trickling down” to the rest of us.

So, enough worry, let’s start doing something.