A nerve-racking year punctuated by tectonic shifts in key sources of support has prompted grant makers and recipients to ask big questions about the dance funding model. The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, Doris Duke Foundation, and Ford Foundation—decades-long supporters of the performing arts—rained down a trio of blows in recent months, with each announcing that it’d be shifting its focus elsewhere. And the final round of funding for the National Dance Project, administered by the New England Foundation for the Arts, will be in the 2026 cycle.

Then there’s the National Endowment for the Arts, which earlier this year canceled grants that had already been approved and gave no indication of what will happen in the next grant cycle. The Trump administration has requested that Congress zero out the NEA’s budget. And all three dance-staff members at the NEA took buyouts. “That office is just empty now. There’s not even anybody to call,” says Lane Alexander, founding director of the Chicago Human Rhythm Project. (Two of their grants have been impacted, including the early termination of a $50,000 grant, forcing the organization to shorten both its Stomping Grounds and 35th Anniversary Rhythm World festivals.)

For many in the dance field, it feels like a moment of reckoning­. The nonprofit model is often likened to a three-legged stool, in which organizations rely on a proportional balance of public support, private contributions, and earned-revenue sources like ticket sales and classes. With grants in flux and audiences still not fully back to pre-pandemic levels, that stool has become wobbly.

“My gut is saying it’s not existential right now,” says Kellee Edusei, outgoing executive director of Dance/USA, a national service organization. “It’s happening. But it’s also a moment of the sector needing to decide how to move forward.”

Pamela Tatge, executive and artistic director of Jacob’s Pillow, says she worries most about the toll of on-again, off-again revenue streams. “It’s the loss of federal funding alongside some of the major foundations making the decision to not fund organizations that they have been funding in the past—that double whammy has been difficult for some of the larger institutions,” she says.

NEA funding has, of course, been on the chopping block before. Former NEA chief of staff Ra Joy says it’s the chaos, confusion, and speed of change which seem different. “The NEA has a lot of support on both sides of the aisle, in both chambers,” he says. “I know there are Republicans who don’t want to support these proposed cuts. We’ll see what happens between now and October, but I also feel like all arts organizations have to change how they operate and not be so reliant on federal funds.”

Chicago Human Rhythm Project is doing just that, simultaneously diversifying its earned-revenue sources and developing­ a philanthropic model based on donors committing to long-term investments in various specific needs, like artistic innovation, economic development, community engagement, and general operating support. “This funding model would build a scaffold around organizations and let them build truly sustainable operations,” says Alexander, as opposed to giving them “uncoordinated annual or two-year grant cycles—those dollars are very valuable, of course, but it’s difficult for organizations to grow sustainably over time when the input is completely different every year.”

Utah’s Ballet West has seen modest cuts in foundation funding but has noticed that corporate sponsorships for productions are increasingly hard to come by. Still, the company has grown steadily—partly thanks to the safety net of the ZAP sales tax, which contributes a penny of every $10 spent in Salt Lake County to zoos, arts, and parks (ZAP). The tax was overwhelmingly supported by voters and will be in place at least for the next decade. It’s a layer of protection they don’t take for granted.

“It’s partly sunny here in Salt Lake City,” says Ballet West executive director Michael Scolamiero. “We are always vigilant that one of our main funding sources could go away. That’s why we’re constantly looking to diversify not only revenue from ticket sales but fundraising efforts.”

One dramatic funding change has been a shift toward prioritizing unrestricted grants to individual artists, rather than giving to large institutions and touring projects. That could be a positive move if those grants come with support and mentorship guiding strategic use of that money, says Tatge. “A few organizations were getting a disproportionate amount of support,” she says. “It is, to a certain extent, a recalibration and a refocusing of priorities.”

Such a recalibration presents an opportunity, if not a mandate, to transform the performing arts sector. But for dance particularly, it may be an uphill battle. “We start off with dance being the least supported of the art forms by philanthropy, period,” says Allyson Esposito, managing director of Good Chaos, an organization that invests in artists, caregivers, entrepreneurs, and changes to the food system. “While other sectors and a lot of other disciplines have, to some extent, already totally revolutionized their way of thinking—their business­ models, their innovation with tech, their way of reaching audiences—for the most part, the field of concert dance hasn’t really tried to break itself.” Esposito urges organizations to ask questions like: What is the fundamental value of this art form, and why do we need it more than ever? Who is it for now, and who should it be for? “There’s so much that’s ripe for conversation, and dance is just stuck,” she says.

To get past that sticking point, dance organizations might need to change their approaches to private philanthropy, focusing on a more diverse group of potential donors and more creative types of funding opportunities. “The performing arts world has yet to recognize that women are going to inherit most of the money,” says Liza Yntema, a lawyer and philanthropist whose commitment to gender parity in dance leadership led to the formation of Dance Data Project. “How women give is completely different than men. Women do more research, they believe more in the power of philanthropy to change society, they care much less about getting credit, they care much less about building a building, and they like to give collaboratively. You see none of that in the performing arts world.”

Yntema is leading by example. Recently, she underwrote two years of childcare and related expenses for Atlanta Ballet­ resident choreographer Claudia Schreier. “It was a game changer,” Yntema says. “And then when I went to visit her, a lot of the [childcare] equipment was being used around the ballet company. That made me feel really, really good.”

Universally, there is an urgent call for dance’s back offices to approach funding with the same creativity, vitality, and care that goes into artistic decision-making. For Ballet West, that means finding a healthy balance between changing what isn’t working and investing in what is. Scolamiero says he makes daily phone calls to donors. “They have such a place in their heart for Ballet West,” he says. “It’s a special place. When donors and ticket buyers recognize that, it shows up in the bottom line.”