For more than a decade, Twitter was the digital town square for the arts. Playwrights, poets, curators, musicians, designers, dancers, and novelists found one another there, building communities that often felt as vital as their physical creative circles. But the platform’s recent decline—marked by instability, weakened moderation, and a noticeably harsher atmosphere—has made many artists question whether it still serves their needs.
Enter Bluesky, a platform that has quietly but persistently become the new gathering place for artists, cultural organisations, and creative workers. If you work in the arts, Bluesky isn’t merely a pleasant alternative—it’s rapidly becoming the most important digital space to be present in.
Here’s why.
1. Bluesky actually feels conversational again
One of the biggest complaints about Twitter in recent years is that the timeline feels algorithmically chaotic and slanted in favour of the extreme right. Posts surface not because they’re enriching, interesting, or timely, but because they inflame. For artists who rely on dialogue, collaboration, and nuance, that environment quickly becomes exhausting.
Bluesky, by contrast, feels more like Twitter did in its early years—light, curious, and genuinely conversational. The feed prioritises chronologically relevant posts and community-driven discovery rather than outrage. There is no algorithm. For people working in creative fields, that’s oxygen.
2. A growing community of artists is already there
If you’ve dipped into Bluesky recently, you’ll have noticed: the arts have migrated.
Publishers, indie theatre companies, galleries, illustrators, actors, museums, and emerging writers have carved out thriving micro-communities. Many institutions have already made the shift, and those who join now are early enough to help shape the culture—something Twitter no longer offers.
The migration is particularly strong among:
poets and small presses
independent musicians and labels
visual artists and comic creators
arts journalists
theatre-makers and dramaturgs
public arts organisations
In short: the people you want to be in conversation with are increasingly more active on Bluesky than anywhere else.
3. The atmosphere is significantly kinder
This matters more for the arts than outsiders might assume. Creative work often involves vulnerability—sharing drafts, sketches, ideas, and performances long before they’re polished. On Twitter, posting anything experimental feels risky. The platform’s culture has shifted towards quick judgement, pile-ons, and anonymous hostility.
Bluesky is not utopia (no platform is), but the culture there is noticeably more generous. It’s easier to share works-in-progress, to ask questions, and to engage without bracing yourself for conflict. A kinder environment means more creativity, more collaboration, and more willingness to experiment.
4. Visibility is better for smaller or emerging artists
Twitter’s algorithm has become unfriendly to accounts without large followings, fascists or paid boosts, making organic reach nearly impossible. Bluesky, however, still operates in a landscape where thoughtful posts, interesting art, or clever commentary can spread widely on merit alone.
Emerging voices—those most at risk of being drowned out on Twitter—are finding new audiences on Bluesky simply by being present and participating. It’s one of the few major social platforms where the playing field still feels level.
5. It’s decentralised—and that’s good for the arts
Bluesky’s decentralised foundation means no single company can reshape the platform on a whim. For the arts, where stability and autonomy are crucial, this is a breath of fresh air. The ethos encourages openness, experimentation, and public-minded development rather than corporate unpredictability.
Artists, collectives, and institutions can trust that the space won’t suddenly change its rules, access, or priorities overnight.
6. Cultural conversations are happening there first
While Twitter trends increasingly skew towards extreme right wing political meltdowns and celebrity drama, Bluesky has become a home for niche but rich cultural conversations—about poetry, theatre funding, festival programming, book design, exhibition ethics, and community arts practice.
If you’re in the arts and you aren’t on Bluesky, you’re starting to miss the conversation.
7. It feels like a community instead of a marketplace
Twitter, under its current ownership, has leaned heavily into transactional interactions: paid verification, promoted posts, and a general push towards monetisation. The sort of people who dominate Twitter don't like progressive or experimental. They don't like ‘degenerate’ art. Bluesky, in contrast, feels like walking into a cosy pub full of people discussing ideas because they want to, not because they’re trying to sell something.
Artists tend to thrive in spaces where curiosity outweighs commercialism.
In short: Bluesky is where the arts are rebuilding their digital home
Leaving Twitter can feel like abandoning a place where many creative careers first took shape. But the energy has shifted, the community has shifted, and the culture has shifted. So, just do it.
If you work in the arts, Bluesky isn’t simply another social platform—it’s the new creative commons. The sooner you join, the sooner you’ll find your people again.
And they’re already waiting for you.
n.b.: I make no apologies for using the name ‘Twitter’ rather than its current silly Monogrammed title. It was ruined under the current ownership.
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