Khoj for funding

Funding remains a huge area of concern for every artiste. Imagination either gets compressed or expands in proportion to one’s funds. When I work with my theatre group, The Company, everything is recycled, reused and reimagined. But when I work on a production like ‘Hayavadana’ by Girish Karnad, which was commissioned by a production house in 2023, or ‘Lemon Soda’ by Saadat Hasan Manto, with the National School of Drama in 2024, the scale of the work takes a leap that is not possible with limited funding.

Is the work better, or of more significance — the question is impossible to answer. Most of the times, artistes work in the hardest of conditions and produce glorious works despite a penury-ridden existence. The stories of artistes struggling in garrets, and the myth of artistes disdaining money does not fit in the new art ecosystem.

When I started my own theatre company in 1987, my thoughts and ideas about funding were minimal. The art scene was mostly local, and the impact of liberalisation on the Indian economy was not manifest. Funds were raised through the support of family and friends. Props and costumes were managed by rummaging through personal cupboards.

But that could not last long and some serious thought had to be given to make funding regular and continuous. Government grants were available, but these were so minuscule that apart from serving as seed money, each project struggled to make the money stretch in all sorts of ways. It was not a negative space to be in, as you stretched your imagination in ways that circumvented the limited funds by pushing the buttons of creativity in unexpected ways.

The security of regular funding made one gravitate towards government funding and many regional repertories came into existence through a repertory scheme named ‘Guru-Shishya Parampara’, where financial assistance is provided to music ensembles, children’s theatre, folk art, traditional arts, dance and theatre groups. This certainly gave a huge kickstart to the arts.

In the last decade, the scenario has changed and government funding is complicated and a time-consuming exercise for the recipients. You either make art or ferret your way through the various portals and digitisation that is required for funds to be released. Many artistes have thrown up their hands in frustration and dropped out of the log-book of grants, as the process is tedious, time-consuming and faceless. How does a folk artiste living in a remote village understand the digitisation and technological jargon, is the basic question? And why only reference traditional artistes? I was completely bamboozled by the endless form-filling exercise and dropped out from the repertory grant list.

When you work in the field of art, you do not need limitless funds to survive, but without funding, you can never realise your optimum potential as well. Most funding agencies need certain boxes to be ticked for a project to become viable. You apply to state agencies and corporates, who expect certain promotional and commercial benefits from the ventures that they support. And very often, in the melee, you step back and say to yourself that surely there must be alternative ways to juggle things around!

Making art has always been considered an elitist activity, and when more pressing problems presented themselves, the grant agency started looking at ‘art making’ as an indulgence. Recently, ITFOK (International Theatre Festival of Kerala), a theatre festival in Thrissur, was cancelled due to floods in Wayanad, and money for the arts was reallocated to provide relief. But protests by artistes made the government reconsider its decision. When Winston Churchill was asked to cut arts funding in favour of the war effort, he simply replied, “Then what are we fighting for?” It’s an oft-repeated quote whose veracity has not yet been proven or disproven!

The fundraising process is not only about collecting money, but plays a vital role in social adaptation and flexibility. That’s because it opens up channels of communication and human connections and crosses conventional boundaries. It’s also about holding a civilisation together.

When we talk about funding, the Medici family comes to mind. It was one of the most powerful patron of the arts, and this wealthy family ruled over Florence from the 15th to the 17th centuries. It is through the generous patronage of the Medici family that the entire Renaissance movement happened.

Closer home, the Mughals, who ruled India from 1526 to 1857, were renowned for their cultural patronage. Mughal patronage was evident in the glorious support to architecture, painting, literature and music. Akbar’s Nav Ratans were not only political advisers, they were writers, poets, musicians, architects and calligraphers who strived for excellence under the unconditional patronage of the Mughal empire.

Fast forward to contemporary times, and funding for the arts makes an interesting and dignified entry through an art collective called Khoj. The non-profit contemporary art organisation created a nurturing space for artistes to experiment, innovate and sometimes, much to the dismay of funders, make works that were fairly incomprehensible. A space where both failure and success was celebrated, discussed and analysed, leading to critical thinking and debate.

Situated in a crowded alley in Khirki Extension in New Delhi, this narrow lane has cows blocking your path, and decrepit buildings with street hawkers adding to the atmospherics. This non-profit arts centre has been a hub for art practices that border on the edgy, experimental and alternative. Its charming premises embraces the neighbourhood, and in this cultural complex there exist several galleries, performance spaces and a cafe along with exhibitions halls which have the fluidity to transform into lecture halls and performance spaces. It has rooms where artistes can stay and create during their residency programmes.

This multi-cultural space came into being in 1997 through a passionate belief by a group of eminent artistes, who felt an urgent need to create a space where young artistes could work together and feel free to experiment, take risks, break boundaries without being worried about market forces or finances. The mantel of running the organisation was given to Pooja Sood, who became the director of this newly formed organisation and raised it to unimaginable heights. Khoj has created a nurturing ecosystem for artistes to experiment, and evolve their practice.

Despite the heft of the artistic community behind this venture, funding was always a tedium. Many times, closure was discussed, but like the proverbial phoenix, each crisis was avoided by the artistic community, coming together to raise funds. Both cash and kind was accepted, from plane tickets to grants, no largesse was too big or too small. Innovative methods were used to create reciprocity between the artistes and the institution that had initially supported them. Presently, 60 artistes with diverse voices and practices that have shaped India art have gifted their works to raise funds for Khoj.

Artistic ventures got a boost in 2013 when the Companies Act made funding under corporate social responsibility (CRS) mandatory for companies with a certain turnover for the “protection of heritage, including restoration of buildings and sites of historical importance; as well as setting up of public libraries; along with the promotion of traditional arts and handicrafts”. This led to a welcome spurt in funding for the private arts sector. Despite this sudden flow of money for culture, the one art form that remained at the bottom of the barrel for the corporate world was contemporary art. This reaffirmed the belief that for the corporate sector, contemporary arts was an alien space.

Precarity of funds remains a constant struggle and most artistes, like the proverbial myth of Sisyphus, carry the boulder on their back, stumbling, falling and rising again.  One thing is clear though — to stay afloat, new strategies have to be dug out, as the name Khoj suggests.