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Have you ever noticed that some of your resident companies often look at you as some sort of “plebian” of the arts? That, because you are not actually producing art, you are somehow a lower art form? (I conjure up an image of Snidely Whiplash, the evil landlord, twirling his moustache as a little sun-bonneted maid cries, “I can’t pay the rent!” Is this ringing true to anyone but me?) Throughout my career I’ve experienced a variety of such patronizing attitudes. There seems to be an inherent belief that those who actually produce art are somehow better or have a higher purpose than those who don’t.

I think this arrogance is one of the things that is distancing some people from various art forms. Think about all the people who don’t go to art museums or galleries because they’ve been made to feel dumb if they “don’t get it.” Arts organizations often talk about how they’d like to broaden the appeal of their art, make it more approachable so they can diversify their audience, yet their marketing materials and programming still carry an aura of “elitism” about them. History has shown how the elite treat those who tend to their homes (us). (Have you ever seen the show “Upstairs, Downstairs?”) In spite of knowing this, I allowed myself to fall into a rather pathetic trap.

Like many of you, I came into the theater as what I perceived as an artist— in my case as a lighting designer, set designer and scenic artist. As I got into facilities I appreciated the fact that this was just another area of “backstage operations.” Like the lighting or set designer who designs the setting for the art form, the facility is the setting for the entire art experience. It was another way of supporting and enhancing the art. The fact that I could do this for a variety of art forms made facility management particularly appealing to me. It never occurred to me that someone would think of me as any less artistic than before. As the years progressed, however, I actually began to buy in to this idea that somehow I was less artistic than those organizations we served.

Over the years, I found myself saying, “Gee, I’d really like to take a (insert art form) class. I’ve been so uncreative for so long, I can no longer jump start myself alone. I need the discipline of a class.” In order to remain a creative being, I thought I needed to start producing some art! Well, the end result was that I’d crank out a few class projects and then was back to my usual routine (sitting back twirling that Snidely Whiplash handlebar moustache, I suppose….).

Recently, I enrolled in (yet) another class. It is based on a book by Julia Cameron called “The Artist’s Way” and is designed to help one recover their creativity. (Never mind that I had bought the book five or so years ago and never read past the introduction. At that time, I obviously wasn’t ready for what it had to say.) I thought by sticking to an eight-week class I would surely re-emerge as AN ARTIST! (Cue drum roll please...)

I’m an artist! Always was. Always will be. I’m just as creative as the manager of my facility as I was as the lighting designer for the ballet. What I learned was that for too many years I had been listening to talk of what “supposedly” was or wasn’t art from people who had a very limited framework for what constituted “art.” I had allowed these narrow ideas to become my reality until I assumed I was no longer a creative artistic being. These “censors” had convinced me that yes, I must surely be a lower life form since I was not creating the “grand” art that they were. I had allowed myself to think that what I did was not in the same league as those working for the ballet, opera or symphony. What a bunch of hooey.

Look at the definition of art: The human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature.

This is even better. Look at the definition of artist: Any person who performs his work as if it were an art. Sound like your job? It does mine. I didn’t see anything that said you were required to PRODUCE anything!

So, my fellow artists, let’s rejoice in the wonderful creativity of our jobs! Take pride in the significance of what you do and the value it adds to the arts organizations that use your facility. Think about what your community would be like if your facility didn’t exist! Pity those of small mind and limited vision who dare to imply that the work you do is not on a par with theirs. To paraphrase a current TV ad: We don’t make the art. We make it better.

So, I’m trading in the top hat and villain cape for the artist’s smock and beret. I’m going to protect my creativity and not let others undervalue it or take it away. I’m going to grow it and nurture it and help others do the same. I’m going to write the word “artist” in the occupation line on my income tax form. (But I think I’m still going to keep the moustache….)

Robyn Williams, CFE, is executive director of the Portland Center for the Performing Arts in Portland, Oregon. She can be contacted at robynwilliams@oregoncc.org.