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When culture is treated as commodity, no wonder its temples are sold off When culture is treated as commodity, no wonder its temples are sold off
(4 months later)
Maria Miller used her first public speech as culture secretary last month to insist that funding for the arts will have to be justified by returns. If, in her words, culture is a commodity, albeit a "commodity worth buying into", then what happens to culture that doesn't pay "healthy dividends", as she delicately puts it?Maria Miller used her first public speech as culture secretary last month to insist that funding for the arts will have to be justified by returns. If, in her words, culture is a commodity, albeit a "commodity worth buying into", then what happens to culture that doesn't pay "healthy dividends", as she delicately puts it?
As luck would have it, a test for the policy comes with the mooted closure of one of the most controversial new cultural buildings in the country, The Public in West Bromwich. Its owners, Sandwell council, plans to have it rebuilt as a further education college. Miller would surely have it that buildings are commodities too (and they usually are). If so, why shouldn't The Public be treated as any other underperforming business (banks aside)?As luck would have it, a test for the policy comes with the mooted closure of one of the most controversial new cultural buildings in the country, The Public in West Bromwich. Its owners, Sandwell council, plans to have it rebuilt as a further education college. Miller would surely have it that buildings are commodities too (and they usually are). If so, why shouldn't The Public be treated as any other underperforming business (banks aside)?
The Public was for many the nadir, or the bloated hubristic peak, of a recently bygone era of grand cultural building programmes. After 1997 the culture industry was given a series of grand new temples, usually devoted to culture's consumption rather than production. In London, Tate Modern began the deluge, but perhaps more interesting was the sheer amount of building outside the capital: Curve theatre in Leicester; The Hepworth Wakefield; Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art; Urbis Manchester; Baltic and Sage Gateshead; The Lowry in Salford; Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff; the National Centre for Popular Music, Sheffield (closed after a year); Riverside Museum, Glasgow; FACT in Liverpool, The New Art Gallery Walsall; and Nottingham Contemporary; to name but a few.The Public was for many the nadir, or the bloated hubristic peak, of a recently bygone era of grand cultural building programmes. After 1997 the culture industry was given a series of grand new temples, usually devoted to culture's consumption rather than production. In London, Tate Modern began the deluge, but perhaps more interesting was the sheer amount of building outside the capital: Curve theatre in Leicester; The Hepworth Wakefield; Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art; Urbis Manchester; Baltic and Sage Gateshead; The Lowry in Salford; Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff; the National Centre for Popular Music, Sheffield (closed after a year); Riverside Museum, Glasgow; FACT in Liverpool, The New Art Gallery Walsall; and Nottingham Contemporary; to name but a few.
These were, however "fun and inclusive", buildings for high culture – fine art, theatre, music – and were usually built in working-class areas. All of them aimed in some way at being iconic, at having the "Bilbao effect" or the wow factor; they were often interchangeable with interactive discovery centres for local history, science or something less "artistic", such as At-Bristol, Magna in Rotherham or the Glasgow Science Centre. All were for looking at stuff, with prestige buildings for making culture, such as Sheffield's Persistence Works, much more thin on the ground.These were, however "fun and inclusive", buildings for high culture – fine art, theatre, music – and were usually built in working-class areas. All of them aimed in some way at being iconic, at having the "Bilbao effect" or the wow factor; they were often interchangeable with interactive discovery centres for local history, science or something less "artistic", such as At-Bristol, Magna in Rotherham or the Glasgow Science Centre. All were for looking at stuff, with prestige buildings for making culture, such as Sheffield's Persistence Works, much more thin on the ground.
At best, these were a vindication of the belief that nothing is too good for ordinary people, albeit often funded by their lottery receipts – though the hint of idealism was hobbled by the way the new cultural buildings usually acted as Trojan horses for executive riverside housing developments.At best, these were a vindication of the belief that nothing is too good for ordinary people, albeit often funded by their lottery receipts – though the hint of idealism was hobbled by the way the new cultural buildings usually acted as Trojan horses for executive riverside housing developments.
The Public was always one of the most bizarre of these structures, though. Originally meant to house a local theatre group, it was designed as a sort of cultural storage shed – in theory inexpensive and unpretentious. It rapidly spiralled out of control, however, stuffed full of gewgaws and features between sculpture and architecture, all with bespoke designs by the architect Will Alsop.The Public was always one of the most bizarre of these structures, though. Originally meant to house a local theatre group, it was designed as a sort of cultural storage shed – in theory inexpensive and unpretentious. It rapidly spiralled out of control, however, stuffed full of gewgaws and features between sculpture and architecture, all with bespoke designs by the architect Will Alsop.
The cost overran so massively that it went bankrupt before it even opened. It now serves as one part local theatre, one part art gallery and one part IT training centre. It's undoubtedly a cautionary tale of patronage and a fairly atrocious piece of architecture and townscape, but visitor numbers have increased steadily since it opened in 2010, from 126,000 to nearly 400,000. Although it's popular and well used, in a town that doesn't have much in the way of relief, Sandwell council are trying to cope with cuts, so it no doubt seems an obvious choice for closure or reuse. Again, if this is a commodity it's obviously not sufficiently desirable.The cost overran so massively that it went bankrupt before it even opened. It now serves as one part local theatre, one part art gallery and one part IT training centre. It's undoubtedly a cautionary tale of patronage and a fairly atrocious piece of architecture and townscape, but visitor numbers have increased steadily since it opened in 2010, from 126,000 to nearly 400,000. Although it's popular and well used, in a town that doesn't have much in the way of relief, Sandwell council are trying to cope with cuts, so it no doubt seems an obvious choice for closure or reuse. Again, if this is a commodity it's obviously not sufficiently desirable.
So will all the other grand projects outside London gradually follow suit, as the Arts Council and then the local authorities gradually withdraw? They're usually too young to be demolished, so some have decided instead to give up on being high-minded – Manchester's Urbis, an exhibition centre dedicated to cities, was recently replaced by the National Football Museum, itself originally a grand project in Preston, whose purpose-built home now lies empty.So will all the other grand projects outside London gradually follow suit, as the Arts Council and then the local authorities gradually withdraw? They're usually too young to be demolished, so some have decided instead to give up on being high-minded – Manchester's Urbis, an exhibition centre dedicated to cities, was recently replaced by the National Football Museum, itself originally a grand project in Preston, whose purpose-built home now lies empty.
Even when these were going up, some wondered why "culture" was needed in Wakefield or Walsall in the first place. Culture is something that happens in London, apparently. The argument ran: who in Middlesbrough wants to look at installation art? Who wants to watch Harold Pinter in Leicester? (Poignantly, the square that the city's new theatre sits in is named after Joe Orton, the playwright who got out of the place as soon as he could.) And as Conservative culture secretaries would surely reflect, if it's not paying – and many of these buildings are free to enter – why bother?Even when these were going up, some wondered why "culture" was needed in Wakefield or Walsall in the first place. Culture is something that happens in London, apparently. The argument ran: who in Middlesbrough wants to look at installation art? Who wants to watch Harold Pinter in Leicester? (Poignantly, the square that the city's new theatre sits in is named after Joe Orton, the playwright who got out of the place as soon as he could.) And as Conservative culture secretaries would surely reflect, if it's not paying – and many of these buildings are free to enter – why bother?
This, as with so much else about the coalition, is a reminder that we are governed by people who have never known what it might be like to chance upon something mind-expanding, thought-provoking or simply strange and unexpected in a provincial town. High culture is taken for granted. The best of these buildings – the beautiful, intelligent New Art Gallery Walsall, for instance – are magnificent reminders that provincial life can be about more than Wetherspoon pubs, Asda and call centres.This, as with so much else about the coalition, is a reminder that we are governed by people who have never known what it might be like to chance upon something mind-expanding, thought-provoking or simply strange and unexpected in a provincial town. High culture is taken for granted. The best of these buildings – the beautiful, intelligent New Art Gallery Walsall, for instance – are magnificent reminders that provincial life can be about more than Wetherspoon pubs, Asda and call centres.
New Labour too treated culture as a commodity – these buildings were to earn their keep via tourism, "creative industry" exports or, more often, as the fulcrum for property development. Arguing for art for its own sake is equally alien to both the main parties. The economy already only "works" in the south-east; why not culture too?New Labour too treated culture as a commodity – these buildings were to earn their keep via tourism, "creative industry" exports or, more often, as the fulcrum for property development. Arguing for art for its own sake is equally alien to both the main parties. The economy already only "works" in the south-east; why not culture too?
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