On the final night of Come From Away, I had a profound lightness to me. Walking into the Royal Alexandra Theatre, I was so happy to see everyone — a group of artists who were at first colleagues, then friends, and now family. We had a great show that night. The audience, while smaller than we were used to, was buoyant. Deep down, I think we all knew this was it — we wouldn’t be here again for a long time.

When they asked the great philosopher Marcel Proust what he would do if he knew a meteor was headed to earth, about to destroy everything, he answered, “life would suddenly seem wonderful to us.” I felt that way. We felt that way. The meteor was coming.

The next morning we all received a text from our stage manager instructing us to not come into work.

More than three months in, the effects of this pandemic on the arts have been devastating. What began as mere delays are now inevitable demises. Livelihoods are lost or are hanging in the balance. It all seems so hopeless. But should it be?

A week into the Great Intermission I sat wondering if as artists we had ever been here before.

In preparation for my podcast, SOFT REVOLUTION, which I co-host with STARS frontman Torquil Campbell, I remembered the Works Progress Administration (WPA). The WPA was a works program created by the Roosevelt administration after the Great Depression. It put artists to work to achieve, according to George Biddle, the man credited with the program’s conception, “a picture of democratic justice and spiritual beauty.”

The results of the WPA were, as Jennifer C. Lena, Columbia professor, sociologist, writer, and as they say “friend of the pod” says , “astonishing.” When it was all over, the WPA was responsible for 2,500 murals, more than 100,000 paintings, millions of posters, over 17,000 sculptures, 6,000 music teachers and 225,000 concerts. Much of this flowering took root in underserved marginalized communities and rural areas. As I read about the WPA, I wondered, “why not here? Why not now?”

I can not help but feel that in respect to the arts community this has all been a bit of a missed opportunity. It is as if when the theatres shuttered, so did our creativity.

As artists we are in a unique position as our contributions do not need to be tied to conventional contracts. Contributions that could be staggering. In essence we are sitting when we should be soaring.

Imagine playwrights commissioned to write plays that could be performed socially distanced and in care homes.

Imagine novelists commissioned to write the stories that chronicle this period.

Picture musicians, composers, producers, and sound engineers sent across the country to teach the making and recording of music.

What if acting instructors were sent across the country to teach not just acting but communication and public speaking? There is not a corporation that would not benefit from that.

Filmmakers could be commissioned to create documentaries and films about the greatness and darkness of our country, or modern-day city-guides for when the planes start flying again into our great country.

Would it not be great if the Art Gallery of Ontario decided to create an entirely augmented reality experience of their museum? Think of the amount of crew, photographers, computer programmers, graphic designers, and web designers it would employ. Most inspiring, picture a young artist in Nunavut who could pull out their iPhone and see the Group of Seven as if she were there, in the museum.

How unjust it is that the "fine" arts are relegated to the rich, and to the urbanites.

We have a chance to fix all this.

This is why I, and an ever growing cohort of artists and arts lovers are calling for a modern-day WPA, or as we are calling it, an Arts New Deal, that puts the artists of Canada to work to transform this country and have art touch every aspect of it.

But this is not a program merely to employ artists. The Arts New Deal seeks to make sure the entire arts sector receives its fair share. You might be surprised to find out that the arts sector in Canada accounts for nearly 3% of our entire GDP — that’s more than forestry!

For theatres, museums and concert halls, we ask that government aid them through this pandemic by subsidizing performances. In an age where social distancing will be the norm for the foreseeable future, an audience at 50% capacity should not mean financial ruin.

For film and television production, the government could step in with even greater tax incentives and aid in insuring productions from COVID-19 work stoppages.

For the arts lover, we ask that government create an Arts Tax Credit where each individual will receive a $200 a year tax credit on qualified ticket purchases. This will not only speed the return of the arts but incentivize engagement with them in the long term.

This is all just the beginning. But if we end this pandemic with shuttered theatres, galleries, museums, concert halls, an exodus of artists from the industry and simply a lot of time on Zoom, then we will all have failed.

How can you help? First, please head to www.change.org/artsnewdeal sign and share the petition. We are taking this to the highest levels of government, and the more voices of support, the better.

Second, listen to Soft Revolution (softrevolution.simplecast.com) where you will hear arguments for the Arts New Deal by artists and academics across the world.

Finally: share, share, share. Get on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. Let your local representative of government know that you are an arts lover and you want an #ArtsNewDeal.
Being an artist and being meek about it have gone hand in hand. It took a pandemic for me – a seemingly near-death experience – to realize just how unwarranted that dichotomy is. As we are living through this, what is pulling us through? Art. Stella Adler said, “life beats down and crushes the soul, and art reminds you that you have one.” Art keeps reminding us of that every day. I would hate for it to stop.

People ask me what it is I miss most about performing Come From Away. For me, it is simply being able to do something in which you have to be there. Something where I can not send you a link. There is simply no substitute for the beautiful serendipity of humans together, creating, expressing and experiencing art.

I can’t wait to be there with you all again. Now, let’s get to WORK.