On a recent trip to Montreal, I visited my brother Paul. We were sitting down one night chatting and watching television, when an ad for a product called "Oral B Brush Ups" came on.

The ad was constructed to look like a Bob Fosse dance routine. The dancers took the packets containing the Brush Ups (which look like little green condoms), ripped them open, slipped them on their index fingers, stuck them in their mouths, and brushed --all the while singing the catchy Brush Ups jingle, "rip, slip, brush, aaaah!"

My brother and I grew up in a household where everything was recycled. We had a compost heap in our garden, we cleaned and reused plastic containers, and we rolled our scrap paper into logs which were burned in the fireplace. The only things we threw out were empty cat food tins and wine bottles. No doubt the city workers who picked up our garbage wondered about the strange diet of the family at 11 Howley Ave. Ext, but they didn’t report my parents to social services.
These "Brush Ups" definitely offended my "green" sensibilities. I turned to my brother and said, "Does society really need this crap? Why can’t these dancing idiots just slip a toothbrush into their pocket?"

My brother looked at me. "So, what product do you think will herald the end of civilization as we know it?"
I knew he was being facetious, but it was still food for thought. Thanks to the consumer mind-set, our landfills are overflowing, the beaches in the Bay of Fundy are covered with plastic tampon applicators that float out of the St. Lawrence River, and emissions from non-renewable fuels are destroying the atmosphere. But does this "disposable" mentality reach into our psyches? Does it affect how we view less tangible assets like culture and art?

In 2002, hip hop artist Shaggy was booked by a local promoter to perform in Paradise. Unfortunately the show was set for the same weekend as the Folk Festival.of theArts Council met with Shaggy’s promoters to try to sort out the scheduling conflict.

At the meeting, one of them said, "Look, we have to do this Shaggy concert, and we have to strike while the iron is hot. Shaggy was just here at the Junos, and he has a hit record out this year. This time next year his career could be in the toilet!"

Suddenly I found myself in the unenviable position of feeling sorry for Shaggy! Did all promoters view him with such naked greed? Was he someone who put money in their pockets one day, only to be discarded the next if he didn’t produce a hit record?

The promoter continued, "Most pop artists have a career arc of five years. You must know what I’m talking about. I’m sure you hire musicians for your festival that sell a lot of CDs and get good press. What’s the average lifespan of a folk musician’s career?"

I replied, "Well, their careers generally end with their deaths."

These days culture is considered a consumable product, and there is an entire industry centredcreating entertainments which promote and package it. Local books, CDs, videos, night clubs, festivals and dinner theatres all offer the discriminating tourist a taste of Newfoundland music, history and art. These activities enable people to continue living and working in Newfoundland, but where do we draw the line between selling our culture in a way that is respectful and meaningful, and producing the cultural equivalent of Kleenex?

In the days just after the moratorium, the provincial government poured a lot of money into retraining those affected by the collapse of the fishery. Visual artist Frank Lapointe was involved in teaching workshops in art and design as part of the craft development training initiated at that time.

Just prior to the start of one of his courses, Frank received a phone call from the regional craft development officer. The provincial minister responsible for the program had told the officer that he didn’t want Frank Lapointe or anyone else teaching people how to do "art". He wanted the instructors to help the trainees develop a "marketable product".
Frank was mortified. "Art is about the soul. How do you market that?"

That is the crux of the matter. It is important, of course, for the federal and provincial governments to support the development of cultural marketing. The Folk Arts Council itself recently benefitted from a Canadian Heritage grant enabling it to develop a website and marketing strategy. In the meantime, many arts organizations can barely function due to lack of sustaining funds, and are unable to fulfill their mandates because they can’t afford to hire full time staff. Newfoundland history and culture are given only a cursory glance in the curriculum and school boards are cutting back on arts specialists, while large amounts of money are channeled into buying computers that become obsolete twelve months later.

Sometimes I feel we’re focusing way too much on the sales pitch, and not enough on the salesman and the integrity of what he is selling. Surely our art and culture should be for us first and foremost; its market appeal a happy by-product of its beauty and authenticity. Developing people’s artistic and creative abilities seems to be a better way of helping them navigate post moratorium employment opportunities, rather than giving them money to generate products to pitch to tourists.

Perhaps Danny Williams will take some of that nice shiny two billion dollars and come up with a marketing strategy for the Newfoundland and Labradorian soul.

Hmmmm..... two words sez he won’t.
"The Rooms"..