Dolan Cummings
posted 8 November 2005

The culture strand at the Battle of Ideas festival, organised by the Institute of Ideas in London on 29-30 October, ended with a panel discussion on 'a 21st century renaissance', considering the prospects for the arts in the coming century. Concerns about problems with funding and political pressure were tempered by excitement about new currents emerging, especially in the visual arts and theatre. Culture Wars is similarly concerned with identifying the best new work in the arts, so the question of a new renaissance is very much of interest. In fact, the modest aim of the site is to foster a culture of critical engagement and appreciation that will enable the best new work to thrive whatever the economic or political constraints on it.

The relationship between art and its social context is complicated, not least because art does not merely reflect the world around it, but also shapes it. To some extent, it has a life of its own, and it would be a mistake to see culture as no more than a commentary on social mores. To say that art should be pursued for art's sake is not necessarily to deny that it is bound up in particular social circumstances, nor even that commercial considerations are never far away, but simply to insist that it must be judged by its own standards. Art's utility, such as it is, depends first of all on it being art. This is no less true when it comes to art's role as a gauge of social mores.

In her review of Joe Wright's recent film version of Pride and Prejudice, Tara McCormack notes that the deliberate attempt to make the story relevant to contemporary audiences is likely to mean the film dates very fast, even as the novel retains its more enduring appeal. In fact, some modern critics have condemned Jane Austen for all but ignoring the Napoleonic Wars and taking for granted the class nature of nineteenth century British society, that is, for failing to make the novel 'relevant' to its own time. (This oversight does not seem to have troubled readers at the time or more recently.) While Pride and Prejudice is not a novel about its time, however, it is undoubtedly of its time, the product of a particular time and place, and a fine example of a form that flourished in a social context quite different from our own, and which helped shape that society's understanding of itself.

The critic James Wood has suggested that the success of such contemporary writers as Zadie Smith and Monica Ali has to do with their ability by writing about immigrant communities to 'reimport' the sorts of tensions between traditional family and individual autonomy, particularly for women, that animated much nineteenth century British fiction - thus reviving a troubled literary form. Conversely, our understanding of 'multiculturalism' has arguably been shaped as much by artistic representations like the novels of Smith and Ali as by sociological observation. Just as debates about culture reveal conflicting ideas about society, political debate invariably draws on ideas developed in the cultural sphere.

In a review of the Royal Academy's Edvard Munch by Himself exhibition, Aidan Campbell takes exception to the idea that the artist's famous painting 'The Scream' should be seen as an 'icon of our times', symbolising an age of anxiety. First, Campbell asks, 'If art reflects society, how can a product of the Victorian age be significant for our post-industrial times?' Further, he points out that there are other, far more optimistic images being produced today, such as Norman Foster's Swiss Re 'Gherkin' tower, so why characterise our time as an age of anxiety anyway? This idea is clearly not a straightforward response to contemporary artistic output, but rather refers to a particular set of ideas about the society we live in, and draws on all sorts of images from the past as well as the present. While there may be grounds for a more optimistic account of contemporary culture, however, the fact that this is not part of popular consciousness is telling in itself: an 'unacknowledged renaissance' is no renaissance at all.

The political situation is important to the arts not just in terms of funding, but in providing a context within which the arts are valued and understood. Indeed, for any culture to thrive, there has to be public engagement in society more generally, and this seems to be lacking from contemporary society. As was discussed at an Institute of Ideas pre-election debate (audio link) at Greenwich Theatre in April, however, some see a role for the arts themselves, and theatre in particular, in generating public debate, in the absence of serious contestation in formal politics

At the Battle of Ideas, National Theatre associate director Tom Morris noted that there is a tension between what might be called theatre as 'polis' - plays like the National's own Stuff Happens by David Hare or Playing with Fire by David Edgar - and more formally innovative theatre. The former fulfills a popular appetite for reflection on the big issues of the day, such as war and ethnic tension. But theatrically it tends to be quite conservative (the jury is still out on whether the trend for verbatim theatre is truly innovative or a creative cul-de-sac). The latter - Morris champions Shunt in particular, whose burlesque Tropicana was produced with the National Theatre, but actually took place under London Bridge - is more playful and idiosyncratic, and crucially establishes a very different relationship with the audience. Indeed, it may be that the more differentiated audience experience engendered by such work militates against the public engagement audiences value in more political theatre. But there is something inescapably old-fashioned about plays like Stuff Happens and Playing With Fire; they feel somehow out of tune with the way we live our lives.

In a sense, politics itself seems like a thing of the past, and more self-conscious attempts to revive through culture it are bound to ring false. Paradoxically, much older work can seem contemporary if it addresses a sense of political drift. In a review of the Tricycle Theatre's current production of Arnold Wesker's 1959 play Chicken Soup with Barley, Rhona Foulis notes that '[the play's] themes of political apathy, disenfranchisement and familial disintegration still resonate for a modern audience'. According to Matt Warman, another play about a Jewish family in postwar Britain, Mike Leigh's Two Thousand Years, fails to transcend its immediate subject matter, perhaps because it captures too well the loss of believe in contemporary society, our failure to imagine ourselves.

The challenge for artists who want to engage with this reality is to do so in such a way that does not simply reproduce social fragmentation, but allows audiences to reflect on it and discuss it with one another. A 21st century renaissance, like any other, must simultaneously be of its time and transcend its time. But ultimately it is not the responsibility of artists to revive the public sphere. Rather, it is up to all of us in our capacity as citizens. Undoubtedly, though, engaging critically with the arts and culture is a vital part of any such project, and this will be a central focus for Culture Wars in the coming year and beyond.