There was a time when Emilie Whelan, a local actor and director, worked in four or five shows a year. Today, she performs or directs just one show a year and has a day job, raising money for a local opera company. The reason? Berkeley’s arts sector is fighting for its very survival.
At Shotgun Players, the south Berkeley theater known for its cutting-edge productions, fewer shows are being put on, driving down both revenue and earnings for actors. Set and light designers are cutting corners, borrowing equipment and substituting more expensive items with cheaper alternatives.
At Aurora Theater, half the administrative staff has been laid off and an emergency fundraiser held earlier this year to raise money to keep doors open. At Monkey House, a small, underground performance art space on University Avenue, the owner is struggling to keep the lights on as fewer musicians book shows due to lower turnout.
These are desperate times for art organizations and music venues in Berkeley, pummeled by rising labor and production costs and lower theater attendances. Some, like the beloved Bay Area Children’s Theater, based downtown, TheatreFirst and California Jazz Conservatory’s degree program have already closed, and many others are teetering on the financial precipice, uncertain whether they can even dare think about the following season. Earlier this year, for example, the city’s revered Freight & Salvage traditional music venue reported facing a budget deficit of nearly $1 million in the previous year, following financial stress that included an ongoing struggle to bounce back from the pandemic.
The downturn has had a trickle-down effect in terms of staff layoffs and fewer gigs for actors, musicians and other support staff.
“If you’re a creative, you’re just not getting as many phone calls,” said Whelan, who has seen a number of colleagues move away from the Bay Area after not being able to find enough work. “When there’s a supply-demand issue, the institutions that are still around have a lot of actors they can choose from.”
Many Berkeley arts groups limped through the pandemic with the help of emergency funding both from the city and through various federal programs such as Coronavirus Aid, SBA loans and the Paycheck Protection Program. Now that these funds have ended, many are rethinking budgets, allocating more resources to fundraising and in some cases, raising ticket prices. And nearly all say it will take a lot more than one-time government or private grants to generate an ongoing source of money to keep the arts thriving in Berkeley.
Should residents step up to help bail out the arts sector?
This summer, the city issued a poll to test voters’ appetite for a bailout for the arts, either through a parcel tax, sales tax or transit occupancy tax (tax that visitors staying at hotels pay.) The proposal received low support, showing that voters (500 people participated in the survey) were far more interested in supporting building affordable housing and dealing with homelessness, so the idea was nixed. A two-thirds majority is needed for a measure to pass.
Many involved say there wasn’t enough time in the runup to the November 2024 election to educate voters about the dire situation facing arts organizations. That’s why groups like Shotgun Players, the UC Theatre, Berkeley Rep and many others are already working to craft a parcel tax measure to put before voters in 2026 and mount a public campaign which they hope will generate more support.
“At one point, Berkeley was a regional center for the performing arts and we’ve kind of lost that edge,” said David Mayeri, owner and CEO of UC Theatre in Berkeley’s downtown which in addition to offering a wide variety of music shows also runs a workforce development program for youth who want to enter the music business. “I don’t think we can expect to get federal support for the arts in the next four years, so we really need to step up as a community.”
The city helps out but acknowledges it’s still not enough
The city regularly doles out grants to arts groups, last year giving out approximately $350,000 to Berkeley dance, theater, music and other similar organizations, more if you count individual artist grants and spending on art festivals. (The 32-year-old Aurora received a $150,000 emergency grant from the city after it petitioned the City Council for help.) The funding is more than twice what the city gave out just a decade ago, according to Jen Lovvorn, Berkeley’s Chief Cultural Affairs Officer.
Lovvorn acknowledges that it’s still not enough, but also says that the city simply lacks the capacity to fund all organizations at the level they require. “The problem is larger than any one entity,” said Lovvorn. “We’re trying to do what we can while recognizing that we’re not the ultimate solution to this problem. It’s going to take a myriad of strategies.”
This November, council set aside $150,000 to hire a consultant to create a five-year plan focused on how to revive the local arts sector. And it’s also recently allocated another $119,000 to analyze the economic impact of the arts in Berkeley, with a report scheduled to be released next October.
But ask anyone involved in the local arts scene, and they will tell you that there is undoubtedly a direct relationship between lower theater attendance and reduced revenue for Berkeley restaurants and bars.
A preference for staying home
“The Berkeley Visitors Bureau’s motto for our city is ‘Come for the Culture. Stay for the Food,’” said Patrick Dooley, artistic director of Shotgun Players. “If our arts organizations are not thriving, it has a direct impact on our local eateries and other businesses. Our rich culture is also a driver for increased property values and, ultimately, our tax base. If the arts fail, the city will be a shell of its former self. We don’t just want to be a commuter city to SF or an appendage of the university.”
UC Theatre’s Mayeri estimates that for every ticket sold, it results in $14-$16 in ancillary sales to local restaurants and bars, based on national trends.
Although lockdowns ended in California by spring 2021, the theater industry — both nationally and regionally — has so far not recovered from the downturn in attendance. Whether out of fear of venturing into public spaces where COVID still lurked, the plethora of streaming options on Netflix, Hulu and Prime, the rise of food delivery apps, rising costs of living or all of the above, fewer people are considering theater or music venues when making weekend plans.
Cities can cultivate these entertainment districts by helping venues streamline obtaining beer and wine licenses.
ira marlowe, owner of monkey house
“During the pandemic it seems many people got used to “nesting” at home and, given the vast array of streaming options and people’s general addiction to screens, it’s hard to draw a lot of them back on a regular basis,” said Ira Marlowe, founder and owner of Monkey House, a hole-in-the-wall arts space that hosts everything from improv comedy to jazz to plays.
To save money Marlowe previously lived in the live-work space, located beneath an apartment complex. He’s since moved out and now tries to rent the space to improv and comedy groups, drama teachers, nonprofits and anyone else seeking a work space to cover expenses. He says that Berkeley can learn a thing or two from cities with a lengthy musical tradition like New Orleans, Nashville and Austin.
“Cities can cultivate these entertainment districts by helping venues streamline obtaining beer and wine licenses,” said Marlowe. “When there are multiple venues, there’s more reason for people to come downtown. It becomes a scene.”
Commercial vacancies are still an issue since the lockdowns, but that hasn’t resulted in reduced rents for most existing tenants, including arts organizations, which puts a significant strain on operating expenses, say arts directors. When 924 Gilman, a music venue known for punk shows, opened 40 years ago, rents were cheap and the neighborhood was made up of auto shops and industrial facilities. Today there is a Philz coffee shop pouring $7 coffee drinks, a Whole Foods within two blocks and a Tesla workshop across the street.
“We are hoping to preserve the 40 years of history that we have, and to continue to provide an all ages, substance free, safe space for all, and that isn’t easy for us,” says Lexi van der Veen, who oversees the volunteers at 924 Gilman. “We as a society should be offering more support to the arts, especially in such tumultuous times like these. People need an escape, people need vehicles for expression, and people need community, especially right now.”
Many in the arts world say they shouldn’t have to spend a majority of their time fundraising. And they point out that the U.S. ranks last among developed countries in terms of funding for the arts. For example, the federal government in Canada spends $38 per person each year on the arts and Germany $71 per person compared to only $4.75 in the United States, according to one Canadian study.
In the absence of federal spending on the arts, some states have taken matters into their own hands. Minnesota passed a funding measure in 2008 that increased the state sales tax by three-eighth of one percent to raise money for preserving the arts, protecting the environment and supporting parks and trails. The arts funding has resulted in generous subsidies for art organizations and artists and generates about $1 billion each year in economic activity.
But in a sea of competing priorities and many residents who feel that taxes are already too high, it remains to be seen whether enough public support can be drummed up to keep local arts groups afloat.
“Arts and creativity are what make Berkeley such a unique and special place,” said former councilmember Sophie Hahn who worked with arts groups earlier this year to figure out whether a measure should be put on the ballot. “Arts organizations are different from restaurants, more unique and fragile, and once they’re gone, they’re gone.”
