Artists are often solitary creators, but the arts community in Northeast Ohio has been coming together in recent years to assert its importance. Much of the activism has centered on making an economic case for arts and culture. Beyond that, what is our strategy for enlivening the region with art? How can art be an integral part of livable communties? How can it help us tell our story?
To paraphrase economist Richard Florida’s theory from “Rise of the Creative Class” artists flock to cities with the right mix of a liberal culture, a vibrant street life and cheap, big spaces for making art or staging performances. By most measures, Cleveland should be a boom town for artists, and in some neighborhoods like Tremont, Archwood-Denison, the Quadrangle and Collinwood, artists have clustered, and galleries or art collectives have followed.
But, for all of our vacant warehouses and storefronts, world-class institutions like the Cleveland Orchestra and the Cleveland Museum of Art, well-respected outfits like Cleveland Public Theater and hipster outposts like the Beachland Ballroom, has Cleveland effectively promoted itself outside the region as a destination for artists?
We're asking local artists or “creative types” to think about a regional agenda for the arts in Northeast Ohio. Specifically, what can we do better as a city, as a region, to attract and retain artists?
What follows is the beginning of a list of ideas that Northeast Ohio can capitalize on right now to promote itself and become more attractive to artists. Take a moment to add your own.
The arts challenge us—open our eyes to new possibilities and new worlds. In a region undergoing transformation, the arts force us to confront the tired, old ways, expose the ugliness, and inspire us to envision a better future. We hunger for inspiration, to be touched by higher truths. We want to tell our stories, sing our songs. We need festivals, happenings, dancing in the streets. For us, a sustainable community has poetry, elegance, and joy. It has a beautiful soul.
During the Second World War, conservation at home was more than a virtue, it was a crucial act that every American man, woman and child was asked to make in their daily lives. Saving every last scrap of metal, paper, even grease from frying pans for the good of the troops abroad was embedded in every move you made. 
One of GCBL’s dedicated interns, Lora DiFranco, is 
