Before this conversation can continue, however, those little words need to be defined. Behind them lie some big ideas. In a most superficial sense, they refer to those establishments that promote creative ventures. Think art museums, dance troupes, theater and opera companies, music venues, literary institutions. More broadly, the subject at hand is the exchange of ideas and how that communication can be achieved through a variety of methods. Where would we be without the orchestra that introduces audiences to classical music of all periods, providing concerts that inspire historical contemplation and personal introspection? Picasso’s Blue Period paintings encourage us to consider how we relate to questions of isolation and depression. A national bestseller like Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom advance wider dialogue on such universal themes as family and the American Dream. We all interact with the arts differently, but what emerges is a shared conversation and collective consciousness.
While, as the financial crisis and its impact on cultural institutions has put into stark clarity, the arts may not be as valued as other sectors, they contribute to our identity, both public and personal. Through the mediation of the artist—visual, musical, literary, etc.—we learn to negotiate the major themes underlying private, local and global issues. In conversation with the creator (and the conversations with others that he or she inspires), we participate in the previously referred to exchange of ideas that build upon how we position ourselves in a wider society. As we may identify with the main character in a novel, we use the arts to identify our social roles. It is that public persona that is of interest when discussing the function of art and culture in the global city. Just as we learn how to interact to the city via the arts, cultural institutions define the relationship the city engenders with a broader population.
A high-profile contemporary art museum marks a metropolis’s modernity. A well-regarded Shakespearean theater company indicates an urban area’s respect for the past. Cultural indices demonstrate the tastes and demands of its population, while also revealing the defining characteristics meant to be projected locally and beyond.
Let’s return to our Paris example. First, who is the stereotyped average Parisian? There are, of course, the clichés of rude, well-dressed snobs, but we can dig a little deeper than that. Deep-rooted connections to history. Rich appreciation for the nation’s cultural heritage. Intimate relationships with political, economic and social institutions first established centuries ago. Is it any surprise, then, that we think of Paris as a museum, a place where the past is held sacred and yet made alive for present generations? In a museum, we ponder what has come before, to better understand how the lessons of the past can be used today. The image of Paris as a museum means that the capital exists as a reminder of a specific shared history but also as a universal source of constant inspiration. Its cultural institutions support and elaborate on this message. Back to the Louvre, that ultimate symbol of Paris and its cultural wealth. Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory: the greatest hits of the Western canon are all on display here, to be admired, studied, photographed. Preserving a cultural memory is the goal. What is not as present is the contemporary moment; even when the museum hosts exhibitions by living artists, like Tony Cragg, as it did this past year, their success, whether it be critical or financial, is less notable. With no value judgment intended, it is fair to say that history takes precedence within these storied walls. A stunning example of the museum as mirror, reflecting back to the city its image while also magnifying it for others—Paris may not be the hotspot of the avant-garde that it once was, but, as a receptacle of historical riches and preservation, it rarely encounters an equal. We see Paris as a city where history lives; its art and culture confirm that identity.
So the arts scene helps to establish the character of a city. But what about that key modifier “global”? In our era of constant and instant communication, a metropolis that somehow stands out despite all the other stimuli surrounding us is worthy of attention and study. The global city is just that—the urban oasis where, no matter our current location, to which our interest is drawn. The city that emerges on an international level as both a precious and special object, despite the noise coming from all other sectors. To achieve that stratospheric status, a clear-cut identity does wonders to set the global city about from other locales. Without a specific culture, the city flounders as it searches for an anchoring point that more definitely characterizes its spirit and being. Culture, in this sense, encompasses all those sectors that make up any locale. To clarify that culture, art (cultural) institutions play a significant role, as has been previously proposed. Art and culture, therefore, define not only the city’s identity, but its global relevance in that they compel us to consider their international individuality.
Paris, then, may just well be a museum. But what global city isn’t? We can think of museums in another way, a means that has not yet been discussed. Museums are halls of mirrors, funhouse settings where appearance and identity are amplified, showing us heightened visions of reality. As we have seen, the entirety of a city’s cultural institutions allows us to arrive at the same experience, demonstrating how the metropolis achieves its own particular personality. Serving as reflections of the population contained within the city, art and culture shape the global city, turning it into a museum of its own identity. Without these essential sectors, how else would the city—and those beyond it—be able to look at itself?
a global affairs media network
A City’s Culture, A Global Heritage
December 23, 2011
Before this conversation can continue, however, those little words need to be defined. Behind them lie some big ideas. In a most superficial sense, they refer to those establishments that promote creative ventures. Think art museums, dance troupes, theater and opera companies, music venues, literary institutions. More broadly, the subject at hand is the exchange of ideas and how that communication can be achieved through a variety of methods. Where would we be without the orchestra that introduces audiences to classical music of all periods, providing concerts that inspire historical contemplation and personal introspection? Picasso’s Blue Period paintings encourage us to consider how we relate to questions of isolation and depression. A national bestseller like Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom advance wider dialogue on such universal themes as family and the American Dream. We all interact with the arts differently, but what emerges is a shared conversation and collective consciousness.
While, as the financial crisis and its impact on cultural institutions has put into stark clarity, the arts may not be as valued as other sectors, they contribute to our identity, both public and personal. Through the mediation of the artist—visual, musical, literary, etc.—we learn to negotiate the major themes underlying private, local and global issues. In conversation with the creator (and the conversations with others that he or she inspires), we participate in the previously referred to exchange of ideas that build upon how we position ourselves in a wider society. As we may identify with the main character in a novel, we use the arts to identify our social roles. It is that public persona that is of interest when discussing the function of art and culture in the global city. Just as we learn how to interact to the city via the arts, cultural institutions define the relationship the city engenders with a broader population.
A high-profile contemporary art museum marks a metropolis’s modernity. A well-regarded Shakespearean theater company indicates an urban area’s respect for the past. Cultural indices demonstrate the tastes and demands of its population, while also revealing the defining characteristics meant to be projected locally and beyond.
Let’s return to our Paris example. First, who is the stereotyped average Parisian? There are, of course, the clichés of rude, well-dressed snobs, but we can dig a little deeper than that. Deep-rooted connections to history. Rich appreciation for the nation’s cultural heritage. Intimate relationships with political, economic and social institutions first established centuries ago. Is it any surprise, then, that we think of Paris as a museum, a place where the past is held sacred and yet made alive for present generations? In a museum, we ponder what has come before, to better understand how the lessons of the past can be used today. The image of Paris as a museum means that the capital exists as a reminder of a specific shared history but also as a universal source of constant inspiration. Its cultural institutions support and elaborate on this message. Back to the Louvre, that ultimate symbol of Paris and its cultural wealth. Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory: the greatest hits of the Western canon are all on display here, to be admired, studied, photographed. Preserving a cultural memory is the goal. What is not as present is the contemporary moment; even when the museum hosts exhibitions by living artists, like Tony Cragg, as it did this past year, their success, whether it be critical or financial, is less notable. With no value judgment intended, it is fair to say that history takes precedence within these storied walls. A stunning example of the museum as mirror, reflecting back to the city its image while also magnifying it for others—Paris may not be the hotspot of the avant-garde that it once was, but, as a receptacle of historical riches and preservation, it rarely encounters an equal. We see Paris as a city where history lives; its art and culture confirm that identity.
So the arts scene helps to establish the character of a city. But what about that key modifier “global”? In our era of constant and instant communication, a metropolis that somehow stands out despite all the other stimuli surrounding us is worthy of attention and study. The global city is just that—the urban oasis where, no matter our current location, to which our interest is drawn. The city that emerges on an international level as both a precious and special object, despite the noise coming from all other sectors. To achieve that stratospheric status, a clear-cut identity does wonders to set the global city about from other locales. Without a specific culture, the city flounders as it searches for an anchoring point that more definitely characterizes its spirit and being. Culture, in this sense, encompasses all those sectors that make up any locale. To clarify that culture, art (cultural) institutions play a significant role, as has been previously proposed. Art and culture, therefore, define not only the city’s identity, but its global relevance in that they compel us to consider their international individuality.
Paris, then, may just well be a museum. But what global city isn’t? We can think of museums in another way, a means that has not yet been discussed. Museums are halls of mirrors, funhouse settings where appearance and identity are amplified, showing us heightened visions of reality. As we have seen, the entirety of a city’s cultural institutions allows us to arrive at the same experience, demonstrating how the metropolis achieves its own particular personality. Serving as reflections of the population contained within the city, art and culture shape the global city, turning it into a museum of its own identity. Without these essential sectors, how else would the city—and those beyond it—be able to look at itself?
