The Unseen Power of Dance: Why Tasmania’s Budget Should Prioritize Mature Artists
There’s something profoundly moving about watching someone rediscover their body. Not in the way we typically think of fitness or recovery, but through the language of dance. Laura Della Pasqua’s story is a testament to this. A decade ago, after a stroke left her partially paralyzed, she found solace in the Mature Artists Dance Experience (MADE). What strikes me most about her journey isn’t just the physical transformation—walking without a cane—but the emotional and communal rebirth. Dance, in this context, isn’t just movement; it’s a form of resilience, a way to reclaim identity.
Dance as a Lifeline, Not a Luxury
MADE, a not-for-profit that’s been running for over 20 years, is more than a dance group. It’s a sanctuary for mature performers, a space where life’s complexities are woven into choreography. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how it challenges our societal narrative about aging. We often view older adults through a lens of decline, but MADE flips this script. These women—mothers, grandmothers, businesswomen, adventurers—are not just surviving; they’re thriving, expressing decades of experience through every step.
What many people don’t realize is that programs like MADE are not just about art; they’re about health, community, and dignity. Jane Polley, a former dance teacher now performing with MADE, highlights this beautifully. She notes how dance improves flexibility and strength without the monotony of a gym routine. It’s a holistic approach to wellness, where the mind is as engaged as the body. If you take a step back and think about it, this is exactly the kind of initiative governments should be championing—not just for its cultural value, but for its societal impact.
The Funding Paradox: Why Arts Are Undervalued
Here’s where the story takes a frustrating turn. Despite its clear benefits, MADE, like many arts organizations, is struggling for funding. The Tasmanian government’s arts spending is the lowest in Australia, a fact that’s both embarrassing and shortsighted. An internal briefing document labels this funding “sub-optimal,” but I’d go further—it’s a missed opportunity. Tasmania’s brand is built on its creative and cultural sectors, yet the government seems content to let these pillars crumble.
This raises a deeper question: Why do we consistently undervalue the arts? Is it because their impact is harder to quantify than, say, infrastructure projects? Or is it a reflection of broader societal priorities? From my perspective, the arts are not a luxury; they’re a necessity. They foster connection, preserve culture, and, as research shows, improve mental and physical health. To defund them is to ignore their transformative power.
The Broader Implications: A Cultural Crisis
MADE’s struggle is not an isolated incident. It’s part of a larger trend of arts organizations being left to fend for themselves. Volunteers, donations, and fundraising can only go so far. What this really suggests is a systemic devaluation of creativity and expression. We’re losing theaters, dance companies, and cultural spaces at an alarming rate, and with them, a piece of our collective soul.
One thing that immediately stands out is the irony here. Tasmania’s tourism and population growth are heavily reliant on its arts and culture. Yet, the government seems unwilling to invest in the very thing that drives its economy. It’s like neglecting the roots of a tree and wondering why it’s not bearing fruit.
A Call to Action: Rethinking Priorities
As Tasmania’s budget announcement looms, I can’t help but feel a sense of urgency. This isn’t just about allocating funds; it’s about recognizing the intrinsic value of programs like MADE. These are not just dancers; they’re storytellers, healers, and community builders. Their work deserves not just survival, but thriving.
In my opinion, the government needs to rethink its approach to arts funding. It’s not just about throwing money at the problem; it’s about creating sustainable ecosystems where creativity can flourish. This means long-term commitments, not one-off grants. It means viewing the arts as a public good, not a discretionary expense.
Final Thoughts: Dance as a Metaphor for Life
As I reflect on MADE’s story, I’m reminded of the power of movement—not just physically, but metaphorically. Dance is about adaptation, about finding rhythm in chaos, about expressing what words cannot. It’s a mirror to life itself. And in a world that often feels fragmented, programs like MADE offer a way to reconnect—with ourselves, with others, and with our shared humanity.
So, as the budget is unveiled, I hope the Tasmanian government sees beyond the numbers. I hope they see the faces of those incredible women, their strength, their stories, and their potential. Because, in the end, funding MADE isn’t just about supporting a dance group. It’s about investing in a vision of society where everyone, regardless of age or ability, has the chance to move, to express, and to shine.
And that, in my opinion, is worth every penny.
