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Mathew Hart
Bruce Orr
Head, 2001, cardboard, latex paint, nail polish, staples, fabric, cardboard tube, 3.5 x 2 feet.


In 1995 Matthew Hart founded Spiral Q Puppet Theatre, a Philadelphia-based “progressive force in puppet performance.” Spiral Q, which recently received an NEA grant in collaboration with two other Philly art groups, works with youth, artists, activists, and community-groups across the city to mobilize people around art; it’s year end celebration, Peoplehood, attracted 3,000 viewers last year. Matthew, who has also worked with Vermont’s Bread and Puppet Theatre and Mexico’s Casa del Teatro and San Cristobal De Las Casa, is currently earning a Master in Organizational Design and Urban Studies at Temple University.

The interview was conducted by Dana Sunshine of TheArtBiz.com.

Your Spiral Q bio describes you as a self-taught performance artist and puppeteer. How did you originally get into performance and puppet work?

Recently I’ve been finding it important to mention that I was raised strict Roman Catholic. Maybe that religious idolatry, the transformation of objects into bodies and lives, affected me. As an adult, I was really involved with Act Up, Queer Action, and the Kensington Welfare Rights Union. There was this really dynamic street theatre in Philly and New York: the Church Ladies for Choice, Grand Fury, and a host of individual artists who made incredible contributions through visual art and performance to movements for social justice. I realized how powerful artwork can be in mobilizing people. I saw the process of art production as a valuable opportunity for people to get involved, meet older artists, and practice radicalism and art in a movement they felt connected to. From there, a lot of people started asking me to go out and organize. Things kept moving, and all of a sudden we were called Spiral Q and we had programs and raised money and established a board of directors. I actively tried to figure out how to be a puppet-maker and mobilize. It’s been a mad pace. I didn’t leave Philly for the first four and ½ years; I lived in the studio. I was so deeply engaged in building an organization and producing art and bringing in money. As we got bigger and stronger I was able to relax. I moved out--that did a lot for my mental health and for the organization, since there was more room for other people.

What is the connection between puppets and politics?

A puppet is not a person. People have different affinities for puppets--they’re silly and infantile and animated. The puppet-politics connection is very old: in Western Europe Punch and Judy were all about politics in the marketplace. You could make fun of the king and still get a way with it--almost. You say things you wouldn’t otherwise, because the puppets are responsible. With puppets you can illustrate ideas in a clear and effective visual way that allows the media to gain access, builds esprit de corps within a group, refreshes long-term activists because it’s fun and wacky, and gains you access to new people who would be unresponsive to traditional ways of addressing issues.

What sorts of projects does Spiral Q implement?

We have several program areas. The first is an educational initiative. We’ll go into an after-school program or teen center and augment an existing program by implementing art projects that relate to the general curriculum goals. The second is Justice Works, where we work with activists--organizations like Act Up and PCAC [Philadelphia Community Access Coalition] to build puppets. The third is Neighborhood Parades and Pageants, which was our first real program. We partner with groups we meet through the education and justice initiatives and join them with other neighborhood groups--a senior center or block association--and organize festivals. We do five a year. Fourth is Peoplehood, which is our annual celebration at the end of October. We bus people who have worked with us in from all over the city. Last year we had about 400 participants and 3,000 watchers. Finally, there’s our Museum: the cardboard cathedral, the living loft. That’s the physical expression of the work. It let’s people see what it is we do.

When did you move into your new space? Why is it so important?

We moved last January, over three freezing cold, rainy days. We had 110 volunteers and three 18-foot tractors that just kept going back and forth across the city with our stuff. We got a Samuel Fels grant to pay someone to work here for three months and design the space and inventory all our material. The space is really important because one of the things we try to do is make people aware of places artists are living and employed. We want them to know that you can create a movement of social justice from theatre and you can be employed. You can take initiative, you can stay in your city, you can be an artist. You don’t have to be in the service industry.

You’re currently earning a masters in Organizational Design and Urban Studies at Temple. How does that fit into Spiral Q?

It’s the same work. Theatre is the vehicle, but design is what makes theatre accessible. We do design well, but I want to understand how to measure it better. We need to give artists the ability to do their best work without it getting screwed up by poor organization. I’m a real believer that process and structure liberate us.

How do you meet the other artists you work with?

There’s a really dynamic puppet community in this country and a rebirth of theatre as a democratic model. We get emails all the time for internships and work-studies. A lot of people want to work in a “community” but they don’t know what that is or they don’t have access to it. We’ve earned access, and artists can join us in that. Artists will move here to do three-month residencies. We pay them through grants, donations, and earned income--the money is purposefully diverse.

Why do you want your funding to be diverse?

It’s an intentional choice. Foundations and philanthropies serve their missions first, and their goals may change or the amount of money available may change. We apply for a lot of grants, and we get 90% of those we apply for. But we’re also accountable to the people in our neighborhood and the community in general, and because of that we want individuals to support us. If we’re popular but no one gives us money, then how popular and how grassroots are we? Our goal is that ¼ of our income will always come from individual donors. That’s a big commitment. We’re expecting to get 1/3 of the money from foundations, so we should expect people to value it and feel invited into our organization. Almost all our donations are from people giving $150 or under. Fundraising also helps us organize--we meet new people through fundraisers.

A lot of artists are afraid to talk about money, ask for money, receive money, and understand their own value and how much money is made from their free art. So many people come to the Q and say, “Oh, as long as I get $100 a week that’s fine.” It’s not fine. They’re working 7 hours a day teaching 40 kids at a time--that’s $3.50 a hour, which is illegal! Part of building an organization with values that can be seen is raising money. We want to constantly combine employment opportunities with a commitment to work in meaningful ways while not hemorrhaging money.

A 90% acceptance rate on grants is unbelievable. Any tips for the rest of us?

Only apply to the ones that agree with your mission. I always call funders and interview them--ask them if they want to visit us, if they’re interested in us. It’s all about being unashamed to take money. Funders fund people and organizations, not grant applications. They want to know you.

The other greatest mistake is not answering the questions they ask. Your work is worth the time to write a decent proposal. If you’re doing work that’s valuable, it’s important to find time to support it. If you’re just making things you’re a maker, not an artist. To be an artist you need a business plan. Unless you’re really committed to doing it, it’ll never happen. No one will come down from the sky to give you money.

Also: follow directions. If they ask for a seven-minute video give them a seven-minute video. If it has to be twice that long, call them and ask for permission, But otherwise it’s disrespectful. Their work is to give away money to awesome groups. Let them love you.

It does seem that artists feel they have to starve--

Yeah. I live an obscure, mysterious life, but I can pay my bills. There’s nothing glamorous about not having heat. You don’t have to give anything up to be an artist--people will buy your art if you support it.

I should also add that I firmly believe in the barter system. We get $30,000 worth of donated goods a year--we never buy paint, fabric, lumber, or sewing stuff. We just ask.

So many artists have a model of working alone. What would you say to encourage them in joining or forming an arts community?

It provides a forum where people want to see your work. My work is not for myself. I get great joy in realizing that thousands of people enjoy theatre. Why make art if it just sits in your closet? I’m really supported by my group. When all the messages are that artists are poor and delinquent, to be in a community of people who support artists is great. You’ll be able to make work with staying power. And what’s better than a huge parade with 4,000 puppets from all over? To me an artist alone in a studio seems self-defeating and even violent. There are other ways to be in the world as an artist.

This article was originally created for TheArtBiz.com. It appears on NYFA Interactive courtesy of the Abigail Rebecca Cohen Library.