Published: Issue 1, Summer 2009

A month before The Arts Politic debuted, I enrolled in a drawing class. I am an artist (musician and playwright), but not that kind of artist, and I hoped to learn the principles and joys of visual art. “Sketchbook Drawing”—a weekly course held at the zoo, open to all levels—appeared to be a great opportunity to do just that. Until I met my classmates. Each was that kind of artist, some with more years of visual art experience than I have age.

The experience differential was evident after each sketchbook assignment when prompted to share work. Nancy’s emu looked like an emu; my emu, a blob. Sue’s Komodo dragon looked like a giant lizard; my dragon, a curly-q. But with a conte crayon, sketchpad and faith—I strived on, and my art improved. It improved, in part, because of those uneasy sharing sessions; in them, I, the emerging artist, learned from the work of my experienced classmates. My art also improved after a lesson from our instructor (visual artist Barbara Fugate, who is featured in the “TAP*MAP” section) who said, “use drawing to touch your subject, to see things how they actually are.”

These art-class takeaways—emerging artists alongside established artists and seeing things how they actually are—best explain why we started The Arts Politic. We seek to feature emerging artists (like visual artist Bridgette Raitz, who crafted our back cover image) whose work warrants more exposure, and essays by students who haven’t yet received many chances to publish (such as Greg Londe’s essay about 1950s CIA-led arts policy), alongside interviews with leading artists, activists and policymakers (like Judy Baca, Jeff Chang, Ann Markusen) and essays by well-known professionals (such as Arlene Goldbard who writes an essay about a needed and emerging framework for cultural recovery). We seek to bring everyone to the table—artists, activists, politicians, academics, thinkers, and you—to engage in dialogue, to solve problems, and to act as a platform for social change.

A huge part of solving problems is seeing things how they actually are.  There are many perspectives and we strive to feature a range. Take our “SPECIAL REPORT: The Arts & The Economy.” Ardath Goldstein Weaver’s essay about the economic development of a creative community in rural North Carolina abuts Doreen Jakob’s essay, which questions the root benefit and beneficiaries of arts-led economic policies. RonAmber Deloney’s column critiques HBO’s newest show (a show she likes), which is set in Botswana and casts two African-American actresses as Africans, recasting questions of national and global blackness. Our interviews often ask different people about the same issue (“Dialogue” features those who performed for the President and the First Lady at the White House Poetry Jam). Seeing things how they actually are is not perfect pursuit, but it is a pursuit worthy of seeking a more perfect means.

The Arts Politic is our more perfect means. You might think: “A magazine? During these uncertain times? Why?” In this issue, we interview Depression-era scholar/author Victoria Grieve who enjoys studying the 1930s because during our nation’s nadir, economic, social and political alternatives seemed so viable. Danielle and I started The Arts Politic because this magazine is, to us, the viable alternative—to solve problems and to make social change, especially during these uncertain times. (That said, I may auction off “Emu Blob No. 1” to fund TAP). We welcome you to our first issue, thank you for your engagement, and look forward to your thoughts, criticisms, conversations and activism.

Jasmine Jamillah Mahmoud, Editor