We need a nurturing art community

By Noel Galon de Leon

What do I mean when I say we need a nurturing art community? I mean a community that recognizes the dignity of every artist and every form of artistic labor. A community that does not reduce art to decoration, publicity, or entertainment for special occasions. A community that understands art as work, as thought, as risk, and as a public responsibility.

In Iloilo City, this idea feels both urgent and painfully distant. A true art community is not simply a collection of artists occupying the same city. It is not a calendar of events, exhibitions, or performances. It is a living network of care, dialogue, disagreement, and accountability. It is built on mutual respect, even when artists do not like each other, even when aesthetics clash, even when politics divide us.

In Iloilo, we must admit an uncomfortable truth. The arts scene is fragmented. Groups exist in isolation, sometimes in quiet hostility, sometimes in forced politeness. These fractures did not appear overnight. They are the result of years of mistrust, broken promises, and experiences where artists felt used for personal agendas, political branding, or institutional prestige.

Many artists carry resentment that has never been addressed. Some feel exploited, others silenced, others excluded. These emotions do not disappear just because a new project or festival is announced. Without acknowledging this history, calls for unity sound hollow and even insulting. Healing cannot happen without honesty.

This is why a nurturing art community cannot depend solely on friendship or constant collaboration. It needs a shared ethical framework. Even when we do not speak to each other, even when we work separately, we must still defend a collective purpose. That purpose is to elevate Ilonggo art for the people of Iloilo first, not primarily for tourists, sponsors, or visiting officials.

Art should return to the community that produced it. It should speak to ordinary Ilonggos, not only to collectors, academics, or cultural elites. When art exists only for external validation, it loses its moral grounding. A nurturing art community insists that art must remain accountable to its own people.

I write this not as nostalgia for the past but as a difficult reflection meant to guide what we do next. The coming years will demand clarity, courage, and restraint. We cannot afford to repeat the same mistakes while pretending we are moving forward.

One of the most misunderstood yet essential elements of a healthy art community is art criticism. Criticism is not an attack, nor is it a personal insult. It is a practice of thinking seriously about art, its intentions, its limits, and its consequences. Without criticism, art stagnates and institutions become self-congratulatory.

Art criticism should not belong only to those with academic credentials or access to complex language. True criticism speaks in a way that the public can engage with. It uses clarity, context, and sensitivity. If criticism cannot be understood by ordinary citizens, then it fails its public duty.

We must also draw a firm line between press releases and criticism. A press release promotes. Criticism questions. In recent years, Iloilo has seen very little serious art criticism because many artists react defensively. Any critical voice is immediately labeled as negative, jealous, or destructive. This culture of fragility is dangerous.

An art community that cannot tolerate critique is not nurturing. It is suffocating. Growth requires discomfort. Artists who demand praise but reject scrutiny are not protecting art. They are protecting their egos.

So what is an art community in its most honest sense. It is a space where artists, writers, curators, audiences, and institutions negotiate meaning together. It allows disagreement without exile. It encourages debate without fear. It values process as much as product.

A nurturing art community goes further. It actively creates conditions for care. It supports emerging artists without exploiting their labor. It mentors without controlling. It criticizes without humiliating. It celebrates without erasing complexity. Care here is not softness. It is responsibility.

Such a community listens to marginalized voices, not as tokens but as equal participants. It questions power structures within the arts. It asks who gets funding, who gets visibility, and who gets forgotten. Care demands structural awareness, not just good intentions.

The role of the local art council and the government is crucial. They must move beyond event based cultural policy. Supporting art is not just about festivals, awards, or photo opportunities. It is about long-term investment in artists, writers, critics, and cultural workers.

Local institutions must protect artistic freedom, including the freedom to criticize those very institutions. They must create transparent systems of funding and selection. Nepotism, favoritism, and political loyalty have no place in a serious cultural ecosystem.

Government support should also include education. Public programs that teach people how to look at art, how to question it, and how to talk about it. A nurturing art community cannot exist without an informed and engaged public.

At the same time, artists cannot outsource responsibility to the government. Artists shape culture through their actions as much as through their work. Refusing dialogue, spreading gossip, or forming exclusive circles weakens the community we claim to want.

Artists must practice ethical solidarity. This does not mean agreeing with everyone. It means refusing to participate in systems that exploit fellow artists. It means speaking up when injustice occurs, even when silence would be safer.

Personal responsibility also means accepting criticism with maturity. Not every critique is an attack. Learning how to listen, reflect, and respond is part of artistic discipline. Without this, no amount of funding or infrastructure will save the art scene.

Artists must also resist the temptation of political convenience. When art becomes merely a tool for personal advancement or political alignment, it loses credibility. A nurturing art community protects its autonomy fiercely.

Iloilo City deserves an art community that is brave enough to confront itself. One that refuses easy harmony in favor of honest engagement. One that values depth over popularity and integrity over access.

This vision will not be comfortable. It will provoke resistance. It will expose wounds and challenge authority. But comfort has never produced meaningful art, nor has silence produced justice.

If we truly care about Ilonggo art, then we must care about the conditions that allow it to grow with dignity. Care is not passive. It is demanding, critical, and often inconvenient.

A nurturing art community is not a dream. It is a choice we must make repeatedly, through policy, through practice, and through personal accountability. Iloilo can choose this path, but only if we are willing to be honest about where we are and brave about where we need to go.