Cultural reigning capital

As many governments cut back on ‘non-essential’ services, arts funding has been one of the first areas to suffer. But business is more than willing to plug the gap, writes William Law

As many governments cut back on 'non-essential' services, arts funding has been one of the first areas to suffer. But business is more than willing to plug the gap, writes William Law

You only have to look at the current programmes of the world’s major galleries and museums to see how big business is clamouring to be seen to be supporting the arts – Bloomberg is currently sponsoring a Bridget Riley exhibition at London’s National Gallery, GE and Hyundai are sponsoring an abstract expressionist exhibition at New York’s Museum of Modern Art, Fundación BBVA is sponsoring an exhibition of early 20th-century European art at Bilbao’s Guggenheim museum – but why?

Many galleries and theatres would simply not be able to survive were it not for corporate funding, but it goes without saying that the motives of big business are not necessarily altruistic. Often arts funding fits in well with a company’s Corporate Social Responsibility strategy, and perhaps there is nothing wrong with a profit-driven organisation putting up the money to support the arts and make culture available to everyone, even if the ubiquity of logos and branding does somewhat taint the overall experience.

Arts sponsorship is a way for large companies to ‘give something back’, a way of saying “some things are more important than making a profit”. Arguably, it’s also a form of sleight of hand – during last years’ Gulf of Mexico oil spill, for example, BP was heavily promoting  its sponsorship of a major exhibition of the Egyptian Book of the Dead at the British Museum. What does a bit of bad press about a few oily seagulls matter, you may ask yourself, when these guys have immortality on their side?

It is, then, an issue of building a brand image. It makes sense, for example, for a company like GE to sponsor an exhibition such as the one at the Guggenheim (which is itself, like the Tate in Britain and the Getty Institute in the US, a product of corporate branding on a grand scale), because by doing so it is aligning itself with certain complex attributes which any savvy marketing professional would be keen to adopt for their organisation. Abstract expressionism simultaneously suggests a pioneering spirit, a creativity touched with genius and a way of seeing the world differently. And also, because this is Art with a capital ‘A’, which has stood the test of time and been sanitised within the ornate frames of a reputable museum, it has the seal of permanence and substantiality. What once was considered shocking and dangerous is now cosy and safe, like an antique musket with its pin removed hanging above the bar of a country pub.

Of course, arts patronage is nothing new; out of necessity, artists have always had to go where the money is, whether that has meant painting the monarch of the day in a particularly flattering light or setting out the more positive attributes of a particularly wealthy noblewoman in the form of a sonnet. And the motives of those who are prepared to flash the cash are no different really, only much more subtle. The question of whether this is in art’s best interests remains – surely the point of art is to rail against the establishment, to present us with ways of seeing and feeling that go beyond the final column in a spreadsheet? Or maybe, ultimately, the artist wins and the joke is on everyone else. The next time you see a Van Gogh exhibition being sponsored by a major bank, you may not be able to hear the painter spinning in his grave, but you won’t have to listen too hard to hear a voice saying “Hey, we’re different from those guys across the street. Do business with us. Invest in us. Give us your money.”