You Can Take This Grant and . . . Arts groups are spurning the NEA's anti-obscenity clause

By WILLIAM A. HENRY III

When Paul Zimmer, director of the University of Iowa Press, got notification of his annual grant of support from the National Endowment for the Arts, the new language restricting allowable content sent him on a long, brooding walk. When Los Angeles choreographer Bella Lewitzky received her notice, she just crossed out the offending restrictions against obscenity before signing, a response the NEA would not allow. Media-minded impresario Joseph Papp of New York City's Public Theater wrote an op-ed open letter for the New York Times. The business-minded board of the Oregon Shakespearean Festival, the largest U.S. regional theater, held a private debate that led to a unanimous vote.

In each case, after undergoing the rigorous process of qualifying for NEA money -- and building it into their budgets -- the arts organizations turned the funds down. They could not tolerate the stipulation that Congress added to the NEA's 1990 appropriations: no funded work may involve obscenity, "including, but not limited to, depictions of sadomasochism, homoeroticism, the exploitation of children, or individuals engaged in sex acts." None of those who refused the money produces material that remotely qualifies as obscene. But all of them object to the vague, sweeping language and to the very idea of empowering NEA bureaucrats to set a national standard for obscenity, a matter the Supreme Court has repeatedly said should be regulated by the varying norms of individual communities.

The language was imposed on the NEA as a result of its funding of two photo shows. One involved sexually graphic works by the late Robert Mapplethorpe, the other a depiction by Andres Serrano of a plastic crucifix dunked in the artist's urine. Although many people in the arts community expected the ruckus to be short-lived, a year later it shows no sign of abating. Some liberals question whether Endowment Chairman John Frohnmayer need enforce the new rules so confrontationally: the National Endowment for the Humanities is not requiring recipients to sign any new pledge. But the pressure on the NEA has been unrelenting, in part because the religious right has discovered that the flap revived its flagging organizational and fund-raising efforts.

Frohnmayer has caved in to that pressure. He broke a months-long relative silence to tell a private meeting of arts leaders in Seattle in late June, "It is our job to recognize the political realities," and indicated that some grants will be denied on grounds other than artistic merit. Within days, four examples emerged: performance artists Karen Finley, John Fleck, Holly Hughes and Tom Miller. All had been funded before and were recommended again by peers. But all emphasize sexual issues, including feminism and empathy for gays, which are flash points for the right. Finley, for example, appears nude to decry abuse of women, and has been assailed by the conservative syndicated columnists Rowland Evans and Robert Novak. One performance artist who survived the censors' scrutiny, Rachel Rosenthal, said that although she "needed the money badly," she would refuse it in protest. Another, Richard Elovich, vowed to divert some of his $5,000 to artists whose grants were canceled.

While the NEA contract exempts works of proven artistic merit, smut charges are all too frequently leveled at works of substance. Classics such as Huckleberry Finn and Catcher in the Rye have been banned in school libraries around the U.S.; many who urge antipornography rules at the NEA also perceive rampant obscenity in prime-time TV. As pro-NEA Representative Sidney Yates of Illinois argues, "Shakespeare can be kind of bawdy. The NEA's contract could encourage people to criticize grants for the presentation of his plays." Opponents of the NEA's new language also fear it could lead to a ban on anything involving religion, social issues or politics. Says the Oregon Festival's artistic director, Jerry Turner: "One of the biggest dangers is that people will say, 'Let's find something safe.' "

Up to two dozen organizations have spurned the NEA outright or formally objected and threatened to sue. While many of the grants being turned down are relatively small -- the $49,500 to the Oregon troupe is half of 1% of its $10 million annual budget -- winning NEA funds has traditionally served as a legitimizing sign of merit and has led to larger donations from corporations, foundations and patrons.

The arts community is far from unanimous in thinking that refusing NEA money is wise. Says Jack O'Brien, artistic director of the Old Globe Theater in San $ Diego: "I think it plays right into the hands of the enemies of the NEA. It allows them to say, 'See, these arts groups don't even need it.' The central point is that this system works. By and large, the money goes to the right places, and after two decades there hasn't been a hint of fraud or scandal. What other Government program can say that?"

Arts leaders are pondering new maneuvers: mounting an aggressive ad campaign against North Carolina Senator Jesse Helms, an enemy of the NEA, or taking NEA money but publicly disavowing the pledge they have signed, thus daring the Government to litigate First Amendment issues. The leaders agree on one thing: just when artists thought they demonstrated the value of their work to the nation, it has become clear that the task of educating the public has only begun.

With reporting by Hays Gorey/Washington and Linda Williams/New York