In 1976, cultural historian and journalist Naseem Khan published The Arts Britain Ignores, a report that challenged the country’s arts establishment to recognize the creativity already flourishing in Black, Asian and other minority communities. Fifty years later, the report is being revisited not as a historical artifact, but as unfinished business.
A conference at the Serendipity Institute for Black Arts and Heritage in Leicester on October 14 brings together artists, cultural leaders and policymakers to examine the report’s legacy. The gathering also marks the launch of a new book, The Arts Britain Ignores at 50, combining essays and new research.
A map of culture drawn from the ground up
Khan’s original report documented forms of cultural life that funders and critics routinely overlooked—from bhangra and Black visual art to dance and community practice. Its argument was radical because it refused the idea that British culture was a fixed canon into which a few outsiders might eventually be admitted. Britain was already plural; its institutions had failed to see it.
The report changed Khan’s own path. Born in Birmingham to an Indian father and German mother, she began as a journalist and theater editor. Her work on cultural difference led to roles influencing museums, galleries and international organizations, and later to seven years as the Arts Council’s head of diversity from 1996 to 2003.
Recognition without sustainability
There has been visible progress. Artists including Frank Bowling, Sonia Boyce and Anish Kapoor occupy prominent places in British art history and the market. Yet the anniversary discussion turns attention from individual success to institutional durability. Community and independent cultural spaces continue to face unstable funding, redevelopment pressure and gentrification.
The distinction matters. Representation can improve while the organizations that develop artists, audiences and archives remain fragile. A short grant may support a program; it does not necessarily build the staff, premises or reserves required for long-term growth. The 50-year perspective exposes that gap with unusual clarity.
Why one report still matters
Khan’s achievement was not only that she identified exclusion. She assembled evidence that converted experiences dismissed as marginal into a policy question. That move gave artists and communities a document they could use to demand recognition and resources.
For today’s institutions, the anniversary offers a practical test. Whose work is collected, commissioned and reviewed? Which organizations receive multi-year support rather than one-off project money? Who controls archives and the language used to describe them? Which audiences are treated as permanent constituents rather than outreach targets?
For artists and independent publishers, the story is a reminder that documentation can be a form of infrastructure. Reports, oral histories, criticism and archives preserve evidence that markets and institutions may ignore in the present. Over time, that evidence can alter what a country believes its culture has been.
Half a century after Khan’s report, the title still lands as an accusation. Its endurance also carries hope: the act of naming what has been excluded can change the field—if recognition is followed by sustained power and support.