I’ve spent some spare time watching TIVO’d editions of France 24’s daily arts programme, Encore.

As I watched its features on music, film books and exhibitions, I realised that this was the main arts programme that I enjoyed regularly, more than any other on television or radio. I also realised that I had come across more work from Black British creators, promoted with enthusiasm and clarity, on this show than I had from any arts programme from the UK.

Of course, there is much arts coverage on British media, but I wondered why, despite exclusives and features with some of my favourite creators, none of it had involved me in the way Encore has done.

Watching the recorded and online episodes, I felt that it was because Encore portrayed the arts as something attainable and part of everyday life; something reachable, as opposed to something to be consumed, made by someone special, touched by an incredible talent or genius; someone far away.

In the UK, the creative industries contribute £10 billion per year to the economy, yet the arts are looked on as a glorified hobby, practised by an out of touch elite, or dreamers who need to knuckle down and get a real job. It was telling that the UK government’s cyber campaign belittled a woman of colour’s career as a ballet dancer. And yet, articles abound on how much culture we are consuming on streaming platforms, in museums and with street art. Creativity is consumed, but not appreciated.

The Saatchi Gallery warehouse fire was joked about in the UK’s mainstream press. The Marble Arch Mound, while maybe mistaken in aspects of its execution, has been vilified in the media. Contrast this with with a ballet performance at a demonstration in Paris, or the Christo wrapping of the Arc de Triomphe: creativity appreciated and celebrated as part of everyone’s life.

Sometimes art touches the public in the UK, such as The Sultan’s Elephant or Little Amal’s walk, but these are seem to be outliers, rather than the norm, for art to be part of the public sphere.

I think of how my own attitude to art and creativity is part of this. I’ve done a lot of work in photography, drawing and filmmaking, and while I have found it hugely enjoyable, I have also found it difficult to take seriously. Accepting money for my work was at first tinged with guilt, because I enjoyed it so much. The idea of making a living from creativity is both hugely attractive and incredible, and I’ve had to do so much work on myself to focus on this goal, even now.

I think back to art lessons at school that I didn’t take seriously, even though I was obsessed by film, photography and costume: I couldn’t imagine that there was a link between what I was watching in the cinema, reading in magazines and seeing on television with what I was studying.

But then I think back even further to a childhood where I drew for enjoyment, where I built things for fun and made things for pleasure. All play. Did I look down on creativity, or was I made to look down on creativity, because it was just play? How could something that was so easy and so much fun be taken seriously?

I find it hard to think of a typically British film, or a film with a British, or even English look, without that film having to hark back to an imagined past. Francois Truffaut’s comment about British Cinema being a contradiction in terms comes to mind. Is there a British aesthetic, in the same way one can see a French or American “look” to a film? Does this spring from art as self expression not being taken seriously? Even in the US, creativity is taken seriously as a business. (British bass guitarist Pino Palladino, having to take daily Covid tests in order to work as a session musician in Los Angeles, acknowledged that his work was seen as essential to the economy and that it was “better than Britain telling you if you’re a musician or an artist you might have to look for a new job.”)

The path towards the arts in education becomes ever more narrow. Proposals to cut funding to “unprofitable” arts courses find sympathy with the current government. Students aiming for creative careers tend to be from backgrounds that can be relaxed about money or funding, leading to a homogeneity in practitioners. And with that practitioners’ similarity, a homogeneity in stories and worlds being depicted will follow.

I’m unsure how this can change, or whether it will change any time soon. At the moment, all I can see myself doing is creating, no matter what the circumstances: be it in work, unemployed, or in comfort. Create, create create, no matter what. And at some point, the arts in general may not seem so far away, but close.