Art isn’t a luxury—it’s a survival mechanism. Keep local arts alive.

Life has been getting increasingly expensive—and I use that word in its most far-reaching sense. Stagflation keeps many formerly basic things—think occasional travel, pottery classes, or leisure time itself—out of the hands of more and more people. But also as the sheer number of things (to do, to buy, and to see) has exploded, we have less time to spend with each potential option. Our time feels increasingly precious and stretched thin in an accelerating and inflationary world. Huge online retailers vie for our scattered attention, injecting thousands of cheaply-made products into our now half-digital lives. Drowning in a sea of potential choices, we experience a dwindling sense of satisfaction with whatever we choose. Anxieties over picking the best option, getting good value, and somehow finding a way to pay it all off before the creditors come knocking can sap the joy out of many of modern life’s moments. 

Canada’s arts and culture scene, among this crisis of escalating costs, has been getting the axe left, right, and centre. And not just in government funding—but also in how few university students are entering the liberal and creative arts (perhaps discouraged by parents fearful they’ll be unable to make ends meet) and by their faculty’s shrinking presence on campuses nationwide; how fewer people are showing up to theatres, concert halls and gallery openings across the country; and arguably how we value cultural production differently (read: less) as a society obsessed with free digital content feeds. These are international trends, but their impact is exacerbated in an up-and-coming city like Kelowna. As everything has become more expensive, in time and money, creative practice and performance have so often been left by the wayside. And I think that’s a very dangerous path for us as a society. 

In my work as a visual artist, I’ve been given the gift of seeing just how valuable arts and culture can be around the world. I’ve climbed the Himalayas to learn from traditional healers above the clouds; stayed with Indigenous textile producers in the highlands of Mexico; learned about church murals in the desert and historical paper-making in the jungle. I’ve been blessed to work alongside diverse people and communities around the globe. And in each place I’ve gone, I’ve been met with a unique cultural landscape. Communities enlivened by songs and dances and a history told on their own terms, saturated with images and stories, and fed by rituals and collective investment in a shared culture. Whether it was urban Germany, rural Nepal, or somewhere in between, each place and its inhabitants lovingly shared with me: “This is what people have made here, this is our story.” 

These cultural products were sometimes celebrated, sometimes tolerated, sometimes even scathingly critiqued—but they were always important. Above all, these cultural products were valued not just for what they could fetch at a Sotheby’s auction, but for the complex ways they made the people interacting with them feel.

Like for the ephemeral comfort that a great song can bring to a complicated life; or for how a play’s drama unfolding on stage can make you feel totally seen; or for the sense of connection that ancient artifacts made by our ancestors can bring to our shared human history. These cultural products were imbued with great power because people could interpret them so differently, not in spite of it.

That’s why I encourage everyone to practice and appreciate creativity as much as possible, in however many forms delight you and with whatever means are within your reach. Don’t wait until you have the money for those new supplies—just start by using what you have at hand! Make a sculpture from things kicking around in your recycling bin. Head to the Kelowna Art Gallery on free admission Thursdays. Start a band—or go see one! Consult the great expertise of millenia of Sylix artists at Sncewips or the Nk’mip Museum in Osoyoos. Save up and celebrate a milestone with a show at the Mary Irwin Theatre, or give a night with Okanagan Symphony Orchestra as a birthday or holiday gift. 

I promise these things will water parts of you that you might not have even known were thirsty. And—here I’ll shamelessly self-promote—attend a free BC Culture Days workshop, hosted by none other than yours truly, where we’ll make paints from local materials. This no-cost workshop will be all about using what’s around us to create artworks fueled by our shared home. We’ll hear from local artists inspired by the Okanagan environment, hand-make paints from natural, locally-sourced materials, and collectively create a piece of collaborative art. 

As it’s become increasingly expensive to live in Canada, it’s become easier to think of art and culture as trivial frivolities—but they aren’t. The arts are fundamental: they contain a multitude of experiences and allow for a wealth of interpretations, creating space for everybody and connecting people across place and time. Don’t give in to the psychological poverty of a life without the arts. Creativity doesn’t have to be an expensive luxury—it’s a survival method for being human in trying times. The Blues, after all, weren’t born from a cake-walk.

Mackenzie Perras is a 2024 BC Culture Days Ambassador and a Kelowna-based contemporary painter whose work explores the social history and ecological future of the materials all around us. His/Their Culture Days workshop Colours From Earth: Collaborative Painting With Natural Paints is happening at Rotary Centre for the Arts on Sat, Oct 12, 1:30 PM – 4:30 PM. Visit here to learn more about Mackenzie.