No Evolution Please
I was posting now and then updates on my project with Kevin Killian and the grants we applied for. I haven't done so in awhile, mainly because there hasn't been anything very interesting to post.
Today however, it has been a full year since I made a resolution to try this route: applying for funding.
Results? Well, I have definitely learned from it.
I think the few people who look at this blog are in the arts themselves, so I'm going to share what I've discovered so far to be the biggest most important information you could have in your bag of tricks when trying to get an art project funded:
DO THE PIECE FIRST!
I know, that sounds like a joke. Why would an organization give money for a thing that is already complete, already paid for, or mostly paid for? For that matter, why would you need the money if you already made the work?
The answer to the second question is obvious: you need the money, because you always need money. Use it to pay back what you borrowed from others, or spent from your own savings to make the project, or use it to fund the next project. Whatever. You have money now: yay for you.
Make work,
take a vacation.
It's your choice. The piece is already done, remember?
So, to the first question:
why is anyone going to give you money for something that is already done, especially when the majority of these applications talk about wanting to fund new projects, that take new risks, and present new challenges? Yes, "new." The word "new"--as well as any other language they throw out that colors your journey into "unexplored" territory--does not in fact mean "unexplored." It means recently explored, fresh out of the oven, maybe not new to you, but new to the rest of the world, your audience, and most importantly THEM ... the panel that has to review your proposal.
It makes sense. If you have ever applied for a grant, you know how hard it is to nail your proposal down in language. Part of the creative process is being open to the idea changing and evolving.
Well, no one wants to fund evolution.
They want to fund what they can see and understand easily. And when you look at the process this way, it makes it easier on you, as well. Do the project, or most of the project, first. Then you can easily, and articulately describe the work.
There won't be any big changes to scare your funders,
only minor improvements.
And if you put yourself in the shoes of the panelists (who are largely volunteer artists and curators, not so different from yourself), isn't that what you would want to tag your organization's name to: a smart, sharp looking, finished product, as opposed to the theoretical rabbit that has yet to be pulled from any hat? Why give carrots to magicians who have only fancy outfits and a list of places they've performed at? People say they are funding the making of the trick, but that's all talk. They want to see the trick first, KNOW that it's a good trick, and then they will hand you a fist full of dollars and whisper, "Tell everyone we helped you make this."
And they are helping, even if it is in retrospect.
How did I learn this? In part from the feedback I got on my own proposals, but mostly by actually observing a grant review process going over several applications. I saw and heard exactly what you might imagine: a group of people around a desk, looking at a number of proposals, skimming the text sloppily, VERY SLOPPILY, and leaning heavily on the visuals. The lucky few artists had a member on the panel who was familiar with the work, and could throw in a good word. Mostly however it is cold turkey.
As they looked at the works, the ones that got positive response were the ones that SHOWED how the completed work would look. I don't mean sketches or diagrams, I mean video footage and jpegs of finished work.
Common responses for artists who had clearly already completed the work,
work that in theory cannot be completed without the help of the grant in question:
"It's a very clear vision."
"I like the politics."
"This is beautiful work."
"I'm a little worried that this artist will just be repeating him/herself with the proposed project, rather than presenting themselves with a new challenge, but the work is beautiful and I suspect he/she will just raise the bar."
Common responses for artists who have put together a package proposing a new work based on past achievements:
"I like the old stuff, but I'm not sure how that will translate to the new work."
"It's hard to get a sense of the work."
"He/she says they are going to do A, but I worry that she/he will do B."
So, now you know. Trying to get funding BEFORE you make the work is putting the horse before the cart, except in the art world the horse is a cart and the cart is a horse. In other words, it seems like they are looking to fund future works, and on paper they are. But they want to see the future.
*
Today however, it has been a full year since I made a resolution to try this route: applying for funding.
Results? Well, I have definitely learned from it.
I think the few people who look at this blog are in the arts themselves, so I'm going to share what I've discovered so far to be the biggest most important information you could have in your bag of tricks when trying to get an art project funded:
DO THE PIECE FIRST!
I know, that sounds like a joke. Why would an organization give money for a thing that is already complete, already paid for, or mostly paid for? For that matter, why would you need the money if you already made the work?
The answer to the second question is obvious: you need the money, because you always need money. Use it to pay back what you borrowed from others, or spent from your own savings to make the project, or use it to fund the next project. Whatever. You have money now: yay for you.
Make work,
take a vacation.
It's your choice. The piece is already done, remember?
So, to the first question:
why is anyone going to give you money for something that is already done, especially when the majority of these applications talk about wanting to fund new projects, that take new risks, and present new challenges? Yes, "new." The word "new"--as well as any other language they throw out that colors your journey into "unexplored" territory--does not in fact mean "unexplored." It means recently explored, fresh out of the oven, maybe not new to you, but new to the rest of the world, your audience, and most importantly THEM ... the panel that has to review your proposal.
It makes sense. If you have ever applied for a grant, you know how hard it is to nail your proposal down in language. Part of the creative process is being open to the idea changing and evolving.
Well, no one wants to fund evolution.
They want to fund what they can see and understand easily. And when you look at the process this way, it makes it easier on you, as well. Do the project, or most of the project, first. Then you can easily, and articulately describe the work.
There won't be any big changes to scare your funders,
only minor improvements.
And if you put yourself in the shoes of the panelists (who are largely volunteer artists and curators, not so different from yourself), isn't that what you would want to tag your organization's name to: a smart, sharp looking, finished product, as opposed to the theoretical rabbit that has yet to be pulled from any hat? Why give carrots to magicians who have only fancy outfits and a list of places they've performed at? People say they are funding the making of the trick, but that's all talk. They want to see the trick first, KNOW that it's a good trick, and then they will hand you a fist full of dollars and whisper, "Tell everyone we helped you make this."
And they are helping, even if it is in retrospect.
How did I learn this? In part from the feedback I got on my own proposals, but mostly by actually observing a grant review process going over several applications. I saw and heard exactly what you might imagine: a group of people around a desk, looking at a number of proposals, skimming the text sloppily, VERY SLOPPILY, and leaning heavily on the visuals. The lucky few artists had a member on the panel who was familiar with the work, and could throw in a good word. Mostly however it is cold turkey.
As they looked at the works, the ones that got positive response were the ones that SHOWED how the completed work would look. I don't mean sketches or diagrams, I mean video footage and jpegs of finished work.
Common responses for artists who had clearly already completed the work,
work that in theory cannot be completed without the help of the grant in question:
"It's a very clear vision."
"I like the politics."
"This is beautiful work."
"I'm a little worried that this artist will just be repeating him/herself with the proposed project, rather than presenting themselves with a new challenge, but the work is beautiful and I suspect he/she will just raise the bar."
Common responses for artists who have put together a package proposing a new work based on past achievements:
"I like the old stuff, but I'm not sure how that will translate to the new work."
"It's hard to get a sense of the work."
"He/she says they are going to do A, but I worry that she/he will do B."
So, now you know. Trying to get funding BEFORE you make the work is putting the horse before the cart, except in the art world the horse is a cart and the cart is a horse. In other words, it seems like they are looking to fund future works, and on paper they are. But they want to see the future.
*