After my time leading Alberta Abbey, I’ve been taking a step back to reflect on what it actually takes to sustain an arts organization right now. Not in theory, but in practice.

There’s no shortage of passion, talent, or vision in this field. What’s harder to come by is stability.

What became clear to me is this: many arts organizations aren’t struggling because of a lack of effort, creativity, or commitment. They’re struggling because they’re operating within business models that were never designed to be stable in the first place.

Once I saw that, it reframed how I understood nearly every challenge we were facing.

Grants are not a strategy. They are inherently unstable.
Finding funding for the arts has always been difficult. While I believe deeply that arts and culture are vital infrastructure for healthy, connected cities, they are still widely treated as a “nice to have.”

At Alberta Abbey, grants were our primary source of contributed income. I spent roughly 30 to 50 percent of my time each week working on them. And even then, nothing was guaranteed.

When federal funding cuts hit, the effects were immediate. The pool shrank, and suddenly arts organizations were competing for the same dollars as nonprofits addressing food insecurity, housing, and other urgent needs. In that environment, arts organizations are at a structural disadvantage.

Even in stronger years, grant funding is unpredictable. You can invest significant time into applications and receive nothing. Or you might have a successful year, only to find yourself ineligible the next. Funder priorities shift. Guidelines change.
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Individually, these challenges can be explained away. But taken together, they point to something larger. Grants are not a stable foundation for long-term sustainability. They were never designed to be.

Earned revenue helps. But it is not fully within your control.
We were fortunate to have relatively strong earned revenue streams. We offered office space, performance space, and production services. Our bar generated the highest margin and helped subsidize the rest.

But even that stability was conditional.

Our primary clients were other nonprofits. If they didn’t receive funding, they couldn’t afford our services. Revenue that appeared “earned” was still indirectly tied to the same fragile funding ecosystem.

Diversifying revenue is often presented as the solution. And it can help. But diversification alone does not create stability if each revenue stream is subject to the same external pressures.

The underlying issue remains. Much of the revenue arts organizations rely on is not fully within their control.

Infrastructure is under built, but expected to carry everything
I knew going into the role that operations mattered. What became undeniable is that they are the foundation everything else depends on.

Systems, staffing structures, and pricing models are not secondary concerns. They determine whether an organization can function consistently and grow sustainably.
The challenge is that this work is often under-resourced and deprioritized. It falls into the category of “important, but not urgent,” which means it gets pushed aside in favor of immediate needs.

At the same time, organizations are expected to deliver high-quality programming, expand their reach, and increase revenue.

We are asking organizations to scale without investing in the infrastructure required to support that scale. That mismatch creates ongoing instability.

The system relies on unsustainable labor
​In under-resourced environments, there is a strong instinct to do everything internally to save money. I understand that instinct. I operated that way myself at times.

But it comes at a cost.

When leadership is pulled into operational gaps, it limits the organization’s ability to think strategically, build partnerships, and generate revenue. I found myself covering shifts, troubleshooting last-minute staffing issues, and stepping into roles that were necessary but not the best use of my time as an executive director.
One of the most impactful changes we made was partnering with a staffing agency to handle front-of-house coverage. It reduced stress, increased reliability, and freed up capacity for higher-level work.

That shift made something very clear. What often looks like cost-saving is actually inefficiency. And more broadly, the system relies on people overextending themselves to keep things running.

Burnout in the arts is often framed as an individual issue. In my experience, it is structural.

People are the most important investment
If there is a through line in what actually helps organizations function, it comes back to people.

Creating clarity, accountability, and a sense of purpose for staff is not just good leadership. It is operationally essential. When people understand their roles and feel supported in them, everything works better.

At the same time, being a place of public gathering carries real responsibility. We worked to ensure that our space felt safe, welcoming, and professionally run, even in challenging situations. That level of care requires intention and resources.
And as leaders, we have to include ourselves in this equation. The pressure to carry more, to push through, and to make it work at all costs is deeply embedded in this field. But sacrificing your health is not a sustainable strategy.

If the system depends on people constantly overextending themselves, it is not a sustainable system.

What I’d do differently
It is difficult to separate hindsight from context. I stepped into an organization with existing challenges and did the best I could with the information and resources available at the time.

That said, I would move more quickly to invest in capacity-building solutions.
Partnering with a staffing agency earlier would have saved significant time and stress. I also would have considered bringing on additional management support sooner to take on day-to-day operations and create more space for strategic leadership and revenue development.

In resource-constrained environments, these decisions can feel risky. But not making them carries its own cost. Delaying investment in capacity often reinforces the very instability you are trying to solve.

What I’m focused on now
This experience clarified where I want to focus my work moving forward.

Alongside continuing to do consulting work with arts and cultural organizations, I am increasingly interested in ecosystem-level solutions. Work that looks beyond individual organizations and addresses the broader conditions in which they operate.

Through my volunteer role as Co-Chair of MusicOregon’s Music Advocacy Council, I am engaging in efforts that many leaders simply do not have the capacity to take on. Most are already stretched thin managing day-to-day operations within these constraints.

At the same time, the environment is shifting rapidly. Audience behavior has changed. The attention economy has reshaped how people engage with live experiences. Emerging technologies, including AI, are likely to introduce further disruption.

Arts organizations are navigating all of this while operating within business models that were already unstable.

Looking ahead
If we want arts organizations to be sustainable, we cannot simply ask them to work harder or be more creative within the same constraints.
We have to examine the structures themselves.

Because right now, we are asking organizations to build long-term stability on top of short-term, unpredictable, and often misaligned funding systems.
And until that changes, sustainability will continue to be the exception rather than the norm.

These are the questions I’m continuing to explore in my consulting work and in conversation with others across the field. If you’re thinking about these challenges too, I’d welcome the chance to connect.