On Cultural Hegemony
and its Implications for Cultural Production and Artistic Practice
Bartomeu Mari
Over the last fifteen years my career has developed
in the field of art, exhibitions and artists' projects
at various institutions, markedly different in their scope,
outlook and
location. I have worked in art centers located in capital
cities, and in others in medium-sized and small towns in
Belgium, France,
Holland and Spain, where conditions of cultural production,
diffusion and reception are quite diverse. This experience
forms the basis of the contribution I would like to make
to the debate on cultural hegemony and its implications for
cultural
production and artistic practice.
The context I am referring
to is present-day Europe, to be more precise, the political
sphere of the European Union.
What exactly do we mean by cultural hegemony? Colloquially,
the
term refers to the existence of dominant and minority cultures,
and implies that the latter are less equipped to survive
and evolve as such, to express themselves; indeed, many of
them
are susceptible to being absorbed by hegemonic cultures.
The political framework of the European Union provides numerous
examples of these conflicts or, as they are now sometimes
termed, 'cultural
dialectics.' In this paper, I take Spain as a case
study, especially as concerns the last 25 years of its history.
Here,
cultural identity affects creativity, but especially affects
the reception of cultural facts. Between creativity and reception
we encounter both the instruments for the presentation and
diffusion of culture, as well as the perceptual habits of
the audience or public.
Another area in which we discover
links between hegemonic and minority cultures is language.
A significant number of
languages,
with varying degrees of official recognition, co-exist in
Europe. Some are spoken by more than sixty million individuals,
others
by less than two million. In Spain, for instance, several
cultural and political conflicts are waged in this sphere,
as cultural
production is one of the fundamental means of expression
and communication of specific identities. Cultural industries
require
a minimum market size in order to protect their own production,
and for minority cultures the preservation of these industries
involves being able to export at least part of that production.
The main element (or medium) of expression in literature
and the audiovisual sector is language. However, the predominantly
used non-linguistic materials and images are supposed to
transcend
geographical or political boundaries. The question is how
to reconcile local production and exportation in this field
and
under these conditions.
How do these issues relate to contemporary
artistic practice? Since the early twentieth century, art
has striven to become
a universal language, while remaining an example of cultural
'craft' (as
opposed to the cultural industry). As an element seeking
to convey a certain identity, yet simultaneously aspiring
to be
universal, art finds itself in a paradoxical situation. Confined
within a system of its own, current artistic practice is
determined by its relations with the market as much as it
is by the local
vs. universal dilemma.
February 2004
The above introduction, to an intervention I
presented a few months ago, reflects the cultural and professional
outlook
of
my European background. Europe today continues to consider
culture inextricable from nations and nationalities, and
thus a distinctive feature of many different contexts and
debates.
Moreover, we tend to associate the idea of culture with that
of language, so much so that the notion of cultural politics
is still very much related to words, language, literature
(which at times acts as a repository for certain cultures)
and history.
I believe that on other continents like America and Asia,
culture and cultural identity materialize and are expressed
around
other facts and signs.
While Europe claims religious difference, most of the different
persuasions have been traditionally encompassed within a
Judæo-Christian
creed. This, of course, has not prevented rivers of blood
being spilled in the past, giving rise to some of the cruellest
and
most repressive episodes of Western history. Just as our
intellectual milieu has embraced globalization as the common
ground for
all forms of debate (one can barely avoid the word ‘multiculturalism' in
either speech or writing), as a result of which the scope
of the debate on culture and identity, and their inter-relation
with politics and everyday life, has been considerably broadened,
we find ourselves faced with a new phenomenon: immigration.
Although in itself this is not new to Europe, what is new
is
the clash between the general flows of immigrants from different
cultures (the Maghreb, sub-Saharan Africa, former Eastern-bloc
countries, South American, etc.) and the renewal of indigenous
or nationalist cultural signifiers in Europe itself. Although
any number of such clashes could be delineated, the case
of Spain is especially relevant.
Nationalism versus Cosmopolitism
Following the death of General Franco in 1975, Spain
initiated a process of transition to democracy. This process,
which
developed at various speeds, led to the present federal (though
not fully
federated) state. The first democratic parliament of the
second half of the twentieth century in Spain established
several
autonomous governments responsible for most areas of public
life, with the exception of foreign affairs and the armed
forces. Citizens of the various autonomous communities elect
their
own representatives to regional parliaments, where the new
governments administer affairs previously under the control
of the central government. In point of fact the system is
very similar to the one existing in Germany, although the
relative
amount of self-government varies according to region. Some
of the autonomous communities demand special status by virtue
of their historic nature and autochthonous culture. The Basque
Country, Galicia, Catalonia, Valencia and the Balearic Islands
each speak their own language, which is co-official with
Spanish; their citizens are obliged to understand both languages
and
have a right to use either. Although the public use of these
languages was forbidden during the Franco dictatorship (1939–1975),
since the mid-'80s they have all been taught in school,
and have become the main vehicle of cultural expression in
all spheres of public and private life. For some time now
language, culture and identity have gone hand in hand on
the Spanish political scene. Let us review
some key events that reflect on those developments. We could
regard 1981 as a key year in the country's transition
to democracy, as in the month of February it witnessed a
failed military coup organized by a few members of the most
conservative
ranks of the army and the militarized police corps known
as the Guardia Civil. By 1982 new political institutions
began
to consolidate strategies of public self-representation in
order to distinguish themselves from the previous régime.
In this context, new policies and schemes like social security
and unemployment benefits and health centers would be undertaken
in the field of social welfare, paralleled in the field of
culture by the emergence of new institutions, mostly museums
and art
centers). The first to be created was the Centro de Arte
Reina Sofía in Madrid (today MNCARS, or Museo Nacional
Centro de Arte Reina Sofía), soon to be followed by
IVAM (Institut Valencià d'Art Modern) in Valencia,
CAAM (Centro Atlántico de Arte Moderno) in Las Palmas
de Gran Canaria in the Canary Islands, CAAC (Centro Andaluz
de Arte Contemporáneo)
in Seville, CGAC (Centro Galego de Arte Contemporánea)
in Santiago de Compostela, Galicia, MACBA (Museu d'Art
Contemporani de Barcelona) in Barcelona, Catalonia, and Guggenheim
Bilbao and Artium in Vitoria, both in the Basque country.
The most recent centers to opened are Salamanca's CASA
(Centro de Arte de Salamanca), CAC Málaga (Centro
de Arte Contemporáneo)
in the Andalusian city and MARCO (Museo de Arte Contemporáneo)
in Vigo). While this list includes both internationally known
cities and smaller towns, the fact is that practically all
of Spain's autonomous communities have built their
own contemporary art center, and some (Galicia, Valencia
and the
Basque Country) can boast more than one. Over the past twenty
years the investment in institutional ‘hardware' has
been spectacular, but does this mean that Spain has suddenly
awakened to contemporary art? Does contemporary art in Spain
really deserve so much public attention?
Hardware versus Software
The truth is that the amount of space, in terms of square
footage devoted to art in the infrastructures built over
the past fifteen
years expresses another reality –– the need to
present Spanish citizens with signs of their social and cultural
progress at a time when Spain was becoming a member of both
NATO (1982, ratified by referendum in 1986) and the European
Community (1986). Isolated from the Western world — according
to the expression used at the time — by Franco's
dictatorship, Spain needed to meet her cultural and geographic
neighbours on an equal footing. Until the mid-'80s
Spanish nationals had traditionally emigrated to Central
Europe. Today,
on the contrary, Spain welcomes the greatest number of immigrants
of all EEC countries, from nationals of the Maghreb and Central
Africa, to those of former Eastern European and Latin American
states. Spain's craving for visibility on an international
scale culminated in 1992 with the celebration of three important
events: the Olympic Games held in Barcelona, the choice of
Madrid as European Cultural Capital, and Seville's
hosting of the Universal Exposition Expo '92. By then,
the country's
social and cultural infrastructures were consolidated, while
on the economic front, the concentration of banks and the
media had begun to favour globalization. After years of growth
in
great measure sustained by cohesion funds provided by the
European Union, today the country has attained levels of
well-being
comparable to those of many EEC nations, despite not being
a member of the powerful G7 group. A few months ago the EEC
expanded to embrace a number of countries from the former
Eastern European block, which will now become the beneficiaries
of the
cohesion funds previously destined for the modernization
of traditional economic sectors in southern European countries
like Greece, Spain and Portugal, which are now on a par with
northern European standards.
However, as the 'bricks
and mortar,' (the square
footage dedicated to art and culture in general) consolidated,
the scope of the international 'scientific' ambition
decreased. In other words, securing hardware did not automatically
ensure the introduction of software; investment in physical
infrastructures was not matched by an equivalent investment
in knowledge. The spectacle of culture was promoted at the
expense of research and audience education.
Regionalism versus
Internationalisation
Throughout the 1980s, the internationalization of the
various autonomous communities and cultures in Spain remained
an
important objective for the various public corporations.
By the turn
of the millennium, the thirst for internationalism had been
quenched to the point that the 'bricks and mortar' would
become the key element in the agendas of public administrations.
The need for cultural institutions like museums and art centers
grew as the idea that the arts could be generated by such
institutions (and would therefore require public funding)
took root. A number
of decisions were taken in order to make up for lost time,
as exemplified by the acquisition of the Thyssen-Bornemisza
collection by Spain's central government. While the
country possessed historically important public collections
of art
it was clearly lacking in collections of modern and contemporary
work. The creation of new museums was confronted by the difficulty
(even impossibility) of reconstructing an "official
history" of modern art, as presented by the important North
American and
Central European institutions. Despite this, very few of
them seem to be working on the formulation of parallel, alternative
or subaltern accounts. Throughout the '80s and '90s
the leading museums and art centers in Spain strove to bring
the finest international art into the country, but even today
the lack of collections, archives and material with which
to reconsider modernism proves a hindrance to the re-evaluation
of Spain's modernist movements. And no one has thought
of investigating the country's links with Latin America
as a source of contemporary discourse and a model of modern
development different from that of the Western English-speaking
world. Yet Spain and Portugal enjoy a privileged position
from which to reread both the recent past and the present
of modernist
trends developing between Europe and America; the same can
be said of the Mediterranean basin and of the relations between
Europe and Africa.
The various autonomous governments in Spain
soon realised the importance of regional and local media
for their voter
base.
Priorities were shifted to favor the establishment of local
TV stations, and as a consequence, the international repercussions
of the activity of Spanish museums and art centers diminished.
Did this imply a greater interest in the local in preference
to growing globalisation? Should more attention have been
paid to the citizen than to the visitor? Was vernacular indeed
better
than foreign, or could this merely be a case of resisting
a loss of identity?
One of the most relevant examples of this
trend is the creation of the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. Much
has been written about
this project; I would add that one of the motives adduced
by the Basque authorities for launching the museum was attracting
a million visitors per year to Bilbao, a city characterized
as the economic engine of the Basque country, although somewhat
uninviting as a city. The purchase of an American franchise
proved a most successful move in the establishment of an
artistic
institution on the country's periphery, in a territory
with a yearning to assert its own cultural difference. The
project of Guggenheim Bilbao was never intended to bring
indigenous cultural representation into this geocultural
system; it was
rather to introduce a developed and bourgeois component of
great cultural prestige — even a hegemonic element,
as we would say in the context of this conference. However
paradoxical
it may appear, people in Bilbao and the Basque Country in
general are proud of 'Guggen,' and the museum's
silhouette has now become the logo of the region, appearing
on road signs
informing drivers they have entered the autonomous community
of the Basque region.
Cultural Identity versus Cultural Industry
The idea of cultural hegemony is directly related to
that of cultural identity, which, in turn, competes with
that
of political
identity in today's Spain. Besides the evolution of national
politics, the search for contemporary discourses, signs and
symbols for these separate unique cultural communities (as
we have seen in the case of Bilbao) is indeed a search for
referents capable of coexisting in a globalised international
world. Difference must be expressed in a language comprehensible
beyond the borders within which it has been produced. One
is different — one exists — vis-à-vis others.
As I have attempted to argue, the visual arts, unlike language,
focus on expressing and upholding difference and singularity
in global syntax, and modern architecture and abstract art,
supposedly universal idioms. The highly impressive project
of rereading and reinterpreting the history of twentieth-century
art from a Spanish perspective carried out at the Reina Sofía
over the past few years, has culminated in a clearly provincial
exhibition program and permanent collection. The best contributions
by Spanish artists to twentieth-century art are not to be
found in Spain, with the exception of the monumental presence
of
Picasso's Guernica, one of the most emblematic works
of modern art. On the contrary, one must travel to the great
European and American museums in order to contemplate the
best examples of work by Picasso, Dalí, Miró,
and others.
The outlook is even more alarming with respect
to the contemporary. If the project of rereading, rewriting
and updating history
remains in the hands of institutions as precarious as museums,
the creativity of our own times will be deprived of the specific
and solid support that confers stability and growth potential.
Spain has been unsuccessful in developing a local market
for its own art, yet creating a vigorous art market within
Spain
is now no longer a national, but global, task. Furthermore,
the market itself is the working mechanism of global hegemony,
often concealing highly significant and overlooked cultural
practices that do not entail the same measure of visibility.
I
do not mean to say that art in Spain does not benefit from
social recognition, merely that it lacks the intellectual
and performative base that confers relevance. Indeed, creativity
is still conceived in Europe as dependent upon the protection
of public institutions, given that it is unable to compete
in the market, especially the sphere of art. In this sense,
art (including musical composition, poetry, etc.) is a peripheral
practice, present in society and the media only thanks to
a
few passing instances of glamour, in the interests of cultural
and political representation that tend to produce confusion
rather than serve art's main purpose. Approaching this
case study from the point of view of present cultural policies
and their recent genealogies, I endeavour to draw attention
to the need of investing in local forms of creativity susceptible
of transcending their own indigenous limits and living in
the intermediate spaces of cultures, nations and nationalities.
Spain's investment in hardware and its neglect of,
or disdain for, software leads to neutered realities, scarcely
able to attain and convey the objectives of artistic creation:
reconciling knowledge and pleasure, the individual and the
collectivity, past and present. As French ethnologist Marc
Augé affirms, culture can be explained around three
forms of tension: the tension between past and present, between
interior
and exterior, and between self and others. Unfortunately,
while encouraging the desire to resolve the tension between
past
and present, we have forgotten the need to cultivate the
relationship between the self and others, indispensable to
the life of all
cultures. We have invested in brickwork and disdained the
importance of individuals, of networks of knowledge, and
of the uncontrollable
yet vital increase in creative mass.
As I mentioned at the
start of my presentation, I hope these thoughts and comments
may act as elements of reflection as
regards poles of creativity in an ever-changing world.
Microcosms like
Spain enable us to perceive failed attempts based on the
transposition of certain working models (success, profit,
etc.) that have
proven ineffective. Creativity is not the monopoly of large
metropolitan centers, and its social recognition no longer
depends exclusively upon dominant institutions. The market
is still the market, although the possibilities of rewriting,
reinterpreting and reconsidering the arts involve greater
diversity than ever before. Our task now consists of striving
to update
these possibilities. |