How do you build a more relevant, equitable, sustainable and future-focused arts culture? You invest time and money in the people; and you create multi-directional opportunities for sharing, learning and growing relationships. Future Culture is a program from CuriousWorks that aims to do all of that.

We are currently seeking Expressions of Interest for our 2026 iteration. Applications are open until Sunday 10 May 11:59pm. For the full details and to apply, click here.

Here, Creative Producer Miranda Aguilar shares their application advice…

I have written a couple of grants and arts opportunity applications in my career, but nothing has taught me more than reading through other people’s applications.

For context, I run the programs Testing Grounds and Future Culture. I’ve also read through applications for other CuriousWorks projects like Curious360 which eventually became Tender.

In 2025, Future Culture received the most applications I have ever had to personally sift through as an arts worker, with 70+ applications combined for the arts worker¹ internship and artist-in-residency positions. After combing through these applications, I noticed some key things I think more artists should know when they apply for things like Future Culture.

This is all general advice and is absolutely not meant to single out any one application. Funding and program applications are not easy, and even if your practice is writing, writing about your work for a grant is a different skill to learn. This advice may not always be applicable; organisations and funders all have different criteria and priorities. Nevertheless, I hope there will be something you can take when you apply to the next opportunity – because I want y’all to continue to apply.

1. Make it easy for the person reading applications to look up you and your art.

Always assume that the person reading your application doesn’t know who you are or what your arts practice is. There needs to be a place where you can easily share your work and your practice. This is why I recommend that every working artist has a website.²

In our application form, we specifically mention ‘Feel free to include links to your website, portfolio or something like a dropbox where we can see your work.’ Unless the application has another section for you to share examples of your work, I think you should always add links to your work. 

If you don’t have a website, something like an online portfolio on Instagram or Behance or even a viewable link on Google Drive or Dropbox is really useful. 

If you’re attaching a CV that lists different exhibitions/performances/writing that you’ve done, include links to places where people can see it/read about it online. 

If you don’t have a lot of links where your work has been professionally shared, it is still useful to have a website or portfolio where people can learn about your work and your process. Name drop any organisations or institutions you’ve worked with. This is not the time to downplay your achievements in the hopes of avoiding Tall Poppy Syndrome.³ In your CV, your bio⁴, whatever – you hype yourself up like an American. 

2. Share the experience of your project.

When you’re describing the project you’re working on that needs funding/time/development/whatever, there is a lot of different information you should try to include. Many people will include information about the themes and genres of the work. If it’s a narrative-based work, it’s useful to try to include a one-sentence logline or plot summary. Something that is often missing however, is a description that shares how an audience is going to experience the work. 

As an example, I’m going to share the description that I used (that’s still on our website!) about my play Let Me Know When You Get Home: 

Let Me Know When You Get Home is a new theatre work about growing up queer in Western Sydney. It’s  a coming-of-age Australian play, deconstructing the myth of queer youth needing to “escape” Western Sydney. It draws from personal experience with suburban isolation and Filipino (and Filipina and Filipinx) diasporic identity to create a work which explores the inner lives of isolated queer people and the discomfort that exists when no place fits. Let Me Know When You Get Home is a personal narrative on birth and chosen families, friendships and first loves, and ultimately, the universal desire to make a home in other people.

That paragraph includes a lot of information about the work: the medium and genre, the central question of the work, that it’s written based on personal experience, and the different themes I was exploring in the work. Nothing in that paragraph indicates that the play is funny. It might have helped if I had written that it was a coming-of-age dramedy (drama + comedy), but the writing heavily emphasizes the themes and the seriousness of the subject. Unless you read the script yourself or possibly were familiar with my writing (and you would not be because this is my first script), you wouldn’t have any idea about the tone or wit or pace or what I was trying to get audiences to feel and experience.  If I was applying for funding to rewrite or restage the work, I would rewrite how I talk about this play.

Sharing the experience of the project is not an easy thing to write, especially if you’re still developing the work. One thing I find useful is to think of VERBS: what do I want from an audience? Do I want this work to educate? Frighten? Thrill? Embrace? Disturb? Do I want audiences to dance along, to go to a protest afterwards, to call their mums? 

I think verbs are particularly useful over feelings because you’re thinking of your work as an active thing. Your audience is not just watching silently, they are being impacted by the work; what do you want that impact to be?

3. Be specific with your goals.

Whether you’re applying for a residency or funding, I want to know that you know what you’re going to do if you’re successful. Obviously you can’t predict everything that would happen, but folks want to know that you have some kind of plan – or failing that, that you would be able to make a plan once successful. 

You might have some loftier goals that are more difficult to plan for like ‘increased confidence in my artistic practice’ or ‘forming a network with local artistic peers.’ Those are good too, especially if they relate to specific goals and criteria the funders/organisation have; if these are your only goals however, the concern is that you might not use your resources wisely because you have no plans.

‘Specific goals’ do not always have to be specific outcomes. It can be something like, ‘spend a month researching a specific topic, including reaching out to relevant organisations.’ ‘Continue my experiments with this specific material or technique.’ ‘Connect with this specific community – and this is how I’m going to start.’ 

Once you do get the funding/residency/resources, you might find that the original plan has changed and you’re not able to achieve the goals you originally set out. Maybe the scope changed. Maybe something in your life changed. Maybe the experience of making art changed you, the way art should. This is normal! Having a plan you are able to change later is still better than going in with no plan at all. 

4. Why now?

There is always some variation of this question in arts applications. Even if it’s not written in it explicitly, often, when applications ask you to describe yourself and your arts practice, they’re probing to see why this opportunity is a good fit for you now.

Why is this specific opportunity the right one for you right now? Where are you currently in your career, and why is now the right time for a change? Why are you making this work now? What circumstances in our world and society make your work relevant now? 

Whatever project you work on, when you’re doing your early thinking, consider the basics:  who/what/when/where/why/how AND why now.

This is often also the reason why a well-written application can still be turned down; the artist and the project might be a good fit, but it’s not the best fit for right now. That’s not something you can fix. It’s just the reality of arts funding at the moment.

5.) Some quick-fire tips:

• Know who’s reading your application. For example, Creative Australia always has a pool of artist peers evaluating the projects they fund; you’re not writing for an academic or a bureaucrat, you’re writing for an artist.
• It does in fact help to call or email beforehand. If there is an opportunity to ask for questions or advice (or feedback afterwards), that is such a gift; use it.
• Get someone to read over your application before you send it. It’s useful to get another artist to read it, but also useful to get someone you trust who has no idea what your project is. They’ll let you know what information is missing. 
• How much time do you have, really? Consider not only the length of the residency/project, but also how much time you can realistically give on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. Have you considered public holidays? Life admin? Your biological need to rest?
• Each application, even if you don’t get it, is a chance to refine how you talk about your work. Keep a copy of things you apply for! In fact, make a list so you know how many things you’ve applied for in a year because that is still work.

I hope this advice is helpful. I wish it wasn’t needed. We are working in a system that is working as its intended – a system that provides resources to only the privileged few. I wanted to share this this general feedback as a resource, but I know that there are still several barriers of entry: applying for arts funding and opportunities in Australia requires a high level of English literacy; opportunities like this are not often widely shared enough; and working on applications like this takes a lot of time and energy that you may not have – or that could be used on actually doing something creative. 

In a better world, we would not have to fight and scrape for every resource and opportunity available. Until then, I hope providing this advice makes it easier for everyone to get the opportunities you deserve. 

Future Culture 2026 is supported by Minderoo Foundation.

Future Culture 2025 was supported by the NSW Government through Create NSW.

1. Making it abundantly clear how necessary paid artist residencies are! Are you listening, funders? ↩︎
2. Sorry artists! I know! I have some tips on how to start making your website here: https://curiousworks.com.au/2023/06/maintaining-your-online-presence/ ↩︎
3. Tall poppy syndrome is a term which originated in Australia and New Zealand in the 1980s. It generally refers to the practice of 'cutting down' a person when they've notably excelled or made high achievements and thus their "flower" has grown "too tall;" i.e., you have done well in some field, and thus need to be criticised, scrutinised and possibly ostracised because of your success. This can occur if you brag about your success, but it can also occur if other people talk about your success. There is no way to talk about your work and achievements in a way that'll perfectly circumvent Tall poppy syndrome. Instead, what this has meant is that I have met many people who downplay their achievements to the point where I know nothing about what they do. ↩︎
4. Don’t know how to write a bio? Here’s some tips: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l256aTm1ZBs ↩︎