I just returned from sitting on the panel of a regional arts council that awards grants each year to deserving artists. I was invited to be on it last year, and asked to return this year. Last year, there was $18,000 in grant monies, this year, a little less at $17,000.

There were six of us, each representing a different art discipline, and we all felt it was an honor to be on the panel and to deliberate what were invariably some very hard choices.

By the way, these images have nothing to do with the grants, but it’s difficult for me to write a blog without any photographs. These are from the Lowcountry of South Carolina.

Many people who apply for grants really don’t know what goes on behind the decision-making process. There are some hints here for things to remember and things to avoid should you ever apply for a grant.

First, we were all given a three-inch-fat notebook a couple of weeks before the panel met. These tomes were filled with some 40 applications as well as a covering letter outlining the criteria by which we should make our initial assessments at home. We all read each of the applicant’s description of his/her project and checked out the support materials.

Each of us, as noted above, represented and acted as the expert in a certain field; mine was obviously photography. And each of us got additional materials for the applications in our field, CDs usually, showing samples of the artists’ work.

It took several hours to go through all 40 or so of these applications, and we even signed a contract that we would take the task seriously, not that any of us would do otherwise. We didn’t know in advance how big or small the pool of grant money might be, and we all sprinkled our copies liberally with notes and questions, checks and Xs, even color-coded Post-its. These were our working copies. The original applications, of course, were kept pristine.

Before we even received our notebooks, the council had done an initial cull. There are rules and guidelines limiting how often one can receive a grant, for example, and one cannot generally apply for a grant to act as matching funds. There are other reasons, and in another organization, the guidelines might be totally different.

Before we get to the meat of the grant applications, let’s start with basics.

One of my big beefs is an inability of artists to follow directions in filling out the grant applications. This is a serious amount of money we’re considering, and people can’t spell their own towns correctly, fill out the street addresses, or even bother to circle the appropriate categories? That’s just on the front page. The panel wholeheartedly agreed that if the applicants can’t do those really simple tasks, how are they going to follow through on all a grant entails? We were appalled at the fact that there were even professors who couldn’t manage this — a scary thought, when you consider they are teaching young students!

Several of us took issue with applications that haven’t been run through some sort of spell and grammar checker. Sure, not everyone can spell, but isn’t a grant application important enough to get someone to do a final proof-reading for you? Again, attention to detail is lacking in these cases.

We also are put off by budgets that do not add up. If an applicant can’t add correctly, how is he/she going to manage the finances involved in a grant? There are also the cases — and there were several — in which the amount for a certain item grew as we turned the pages. The cost is the cost is the cost, folks. This isn’t multiple choice.

And speaking of multiple choice, one application included four different amounts for the grant request. How can someone not know how much she/he needs? The message is that these people don’t have enough confidence in their projects to state a final amount.

Many budgets didn’t have enough detail. Hotel: $1,000. Did the applicant mean for one night or 12? Ditto with meals. One artist, on the other hand, had pages of lists of individual paint brushes. These could have been appropriately consolidated into like groups.

The budget problems went on. In many cases, the budget showed a distinct lack of research. Prices noted were from the highest bidder, not the most economical source. This does not mean we are asking applicants to sacrifice quality of materials. Far from it, but we all know there are higher prices and there are lower prices. Why do applicants feel that the highest price is appropriate? It smacks of padding the budget.

Many times, second-hand equipment in excellent condition is readily available. One potter wanted a special piece of equipment and quoted the highest price from a source in the midwest. When the panel member who was the expert for that category did a quick Internet check, he found a second-hand version available locally for less than half the cost. Not only was it in excellent condition, it would entail no expensive shipping charges.

Research goes on. One person was making the transition from teaching to being a full-time artist. The items in the request were from back in the early 90s before the Internet was such a presence. Any artist worth her/his salt has a website. Don’t you? In this case, however, nothing was put in for that most basic of PR tools. This particular applicant admitted still being in the stone age. No one took offense at that. What bothered and surprised us, however, was the fact that nothing was put in for consulting, and obviously, no effort had been made to find out what went into entering the 21st century.

If you know you don’t know something, that’s actually great, because now you know what to ask so you can become more knowledgeable. This isn’t rocket science, just common sense.

In writing a description, watch out for redundancy. We weren’t impressed with applicants who repeated four or five times that their house was too small and there was understandably a need for decent studio space. Once was actually enough.

And those who play the violin in an attempt to tug at our heart-strings because they had an accident are barking up the wrong tree. Most of us have endured hardship — we are artists, after all — but we try to continue to grow in spite of it, or even perhaps because of it.

Why do people expect to get grant money for rental space without ever letting us know what they plan to do? Line item – six months rental space. Line item – electrical work. Something is wrong with this picture. Why would one put renovation money into space where the lease is only six months? What happens when the six months is over? Who is going to pay then? There is no plan.

Reality checks are a good thing. There are lots of excellent resources out there. SCORE (Service Corps of Retired Executives) is one with a lot of expertise. Take advantage of these entities when so much is at stake.

grant applications are hard enough to read without looking like something e e cummings might write we had several that were void of any paragraphs and were lacking in useful punctuation aye yaye yeee we also commented on the descriptions that barely had quarter-inch margins as you might guess these were among the most redundant in thought expression

Putting the cart before the horse is never a good idea. Some people, for example, wanted the fanciest piece of equipment before they even knew if they might succeed as an artist. There are always places to get work done for far less initially than the cost of an expensive piece of equipment. Testing the waters first is always sensible and practical.

There were also the self-serving grant applications. Sure, people want to pursue their art; that’s a given. When the application, however, is all about me, me, me, it is not very compelling to a panel who has read many others in which the artists have projects that will also serve the public or art world.

Some of the project descriptions were so loosey goosey, it was appalling. One person wanted to do portraits of artists along the eastern seaboard. There was no plan, no explanation of how the artists would be selected, what the criterion would be for place. For example, would these be portraits of artists from old mill towns? Or might they be people who had been artists for decades?

On top of that, the samples shown for the start of the project gave no sense of who the artists were, of what their media were. For all we knew from the portraits, they could have been the next-door neighbor who worked in the financial world.

We haven’t even talked about samples quality. Some people who wanted to do a professional video clearly didn’t have a clue of what was good and what wasn’t. There were music samples that showed no variety in expression or tonality and threatened to put us all to sleep. Some art samples were, er, not as good as some high school students’ work.

There were photographers whose work said nothing about the project. And the quality was entry level at best. This was a really tough one for me, because I have long supported photography as an art form, and it killed me to have no choice but to recommend to the panel, “No,” “No,” “No.”

In spite of all the above, there were some really excellent applications that were thoughtfully constructed, came with excellent recommendations from noted people, had balanced and realistic budgets, and gave back to the community in some way. Not only that, but the projects were interesting and compelling. That doesn’t mean the panel all liked them, but we could be objective and see the merit in them. Personal taste has nothing to do with worthiness. How can we turn down grants like those? Answer: We didn’t!

This by no means addresses all the issues that came up, but it is a starter and should provoke thought if you ever apply for a grant yourself. There is no shame in asking for help, and in doing so, it is likely that you will come up with a stronger application that the panel supports.

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