A country without education is a country without culture.

With the political events of recent years, the Ministry of Culture and its actions have gained increasing notoriety in the press and, especially, among artists. However, what most people don't realize is that the main reason for the close relationship between artists and the Ministry of Culture is not, exactly, the effectiveness of its interventions in society.

To better understand this relationship, it is necessary to briefly clarify how the country's current cultural policies govern national artistic production.

With the advent of incentive laws in Brazil, which use tax exemptions for investment in culture, artists came to believe that this would be their redemption. What they didn't foresee was that they would have to become producers, bureaucrats, accountants, agents, patrons, legal experts, and many other things in order to enjoy the benefits that these laws could bring.

I could spend all day listing all the bureaucracy an artist has to face to get a project approved, fundraise, execute, and account for funding under an incentive law—whether national, state, or municipal.

First, he must know how to write the text in a way that convinces the committee judging the project that his proposal is worthwhile, since the work itself is not enough. Thus, he will use a series of clichés and platitudes used in the cultural field, even knowing that it's all complete nonsense and what he wanted was simply to record his album, or hold his exhibition, in short, to achieve his goal. After the project is approved, he will have to act as an agent or hire someone to do so, so that some company's marketing department becomes interested in sponsoring his project (which, in the case of new and unknown artists, is almost impossible). Then, assuming he has managed, after filling out all the forms, gathering all the documents and getting his project approved, to raise the funds, he will have to carry out his work with a series of precautions that require knowledge of taxation, tax collection, invoices, checks, bank transactions and other bureaucratic procedures. After much work to complete his work, the artist will move on to the accounting. Once again, a range of knowledge must be acquired for the applicant to avoid defaulting on public obligations, as many calls for proposals and laws do not even allow the proposal to include the hiring of specialized personnel for these services in its budget.

Given the above, it is clear that the relationship between artists and public authorities is much more one of dependence and "struggle" than of partnership.

Considering all the time and study that contemporary artists have to endure and absorb in order to produce art, I ask you: do you think their artistic output is the same after all this marathon? Do you think they have the same disposition and enthusiasm for their work?

I heard from a visual artist today: "I hate doing work for the government; I spend so much time waiting to get paid that I end up making the sculpture in anger."

My dear friends, it is clearly noticeable that this model has significantly harmed national artistic production. Artists dedicate themselves to learning various skills in order to have their projects approved and end up neglecting what is most important: art.

And why does this happen? Obviously, if these artists could support themselves decently solely from the cultural market, they would never subject themselves to this ordeal.

The big problem is that our country lacks a cultural market, with rare exceptions like the state of São Paulo, which has a diverse and thriving cultural industry. But we cannot become artists in exodus because of the deficiencies in our cultural policies. We have to change them. How?

Everything in Brazil comes down to education, or the lack thereof. The non-existence of a cultural market stems from poor education, the lack of audience development, the lack of access to art for people from childhood, and ultimately leads to the limited (not to say outrageous) purchasing power of most Brazilians.

Well, my friends, it's clear that everyone enjoys records, concerts, paintings, books, films... The world of art is fascinating to anyone. Take an illiterate person to a concert by their idol Roberto Carlos and they will cry with emotion, however, the ticket is out of the question given the salary they usually earn.

Another important point is to make it clear that Brazilian teachers are heroes, and that they will never be blamed for the insufficient and inefficient education in our country.

How many students have visited or are visiting a museum? A play? A big show? A dance performance? How many have had access to great works of Brazilian and world literature? How many have ever been to the cinema?

Given this lack of a market, artists are left at the mercy of Brazil's flawed, bureaucratic, and outdated cultural policies, and our artistic production is fundamentally harmed: in terms of income, peace of mind, and the daily lives of those who venture to make a living from art.

As for the solution? A real investment in education, without constraints, without fear, and without masks. As long as Brazil does not prioritize education, any commentary on our cultural production will be linked to hypocrisy, lack of information, or the desire of those who feed off the big schemes of marketing offices and bribes to intermediaries of sponsoring companies, hoping that nothing will change.

A country without education is a country without a future, without present pride, and with a past full of great shame.

To corroborate everything I'm saying, here's a video of Amanda Gurgel, a teacher from Rio Grande do Norte, giving an emotional testimony during a public hearing about education in that state. Her speech applies to the rest of the country.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFkt0O7lceA

Khalil Gibran is a singer, songwriter, and cultural producer.

www.twitter.com/khalilgoch