Cultural
Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment,
Culture, and Nation Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation Pertti Alasuutari
University of Tampere This article questions the popular and social science
notion of (national) culture and the functions of culturespeak. An empirical
analysis of the public discussion in Finland during the 1980s and 1990s on
national arts and culture shows that culture is used as a word that refers to a
national way of life and as a synonym for art or other cultural products. Due
to changes related to globalization, both dimensions of culturespeak are
becoming problematic. The expansion and deepening of market relations has not
only made nation-state cultural protectionism ineffective or impossible but
also problematized the high-low distinction and affected the underlying notions
of the general public. The nationalist rhetoric creates another kind of
problem— it is problematic to promote an ethnocultural conception of nationhood
and citizenship in today’s multicultural Europe and world. How are national
arts and popular culture affected by globalization? Has the transformation of
the world into one single marketplace opened the floodgates for (American) mass
entertainment? Will nation-states be able to preserve their national cultural
heritage in this kind of environment? Are world cultures converging, or is
there instead a process of polarization or hybridization going on? These are
some of the questions that have recently drawn the attention of social
scientists concerned with the impact of globalization on culture (Appadurai,
1990; Barber, 1995; Bhabha, 1994; Holton, 1998; Huntington, 1996; Ritzer, 1993,
1998). The same questions are also at the center of public debate around the
world. For instance, in recent years, the Organization for Economic Cooperation
and Development (OECD) countries conducted negotiations on a Multilateral
Agreement on Investment (MAI), with parties expected to commit themselves to
treating foreign investors and their investments no less favorably than they
treat their own investors. In short, the MAI was about enhancing globalization.
However, several countries, particularly within the European Union, called for
the exclusion from the MAI of national subsidy systems for art and culture. In
Finland, for instance, Minister of Cultural Affairs Claes Andersson has said
that national culture would find itself in a quagmire if “we were not allowed
to exercise positive discrimination in favor of our own culture” (“MAI-Sopimus,”
1998, p. B1). As a consequence of such opposition, the whole agreement
eventually fell apart. Instead of addressing the same questions about the
cultural effects of globalization, in this article I intend to question the
popular and social science notion 157 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical
Methodologies, Volume 1 Number 2, 2001 157-184 © 2001 Sage Publications, Inc.
of (national) culture itself. Although several globalization theories suggest
that the nation-state and national identity are in decline, the general concern
about the homogenization of national cultures shows that at least at that level
nationhood is alive and well: It is treated as a self-evident fact and starting
point. Yet, if people are asked to define a national culture or cultural
identity, they cannot do much more than resort to national stereotypes, and it
is even more difficult to assess how strong or weak its condition is. As Held,
McGrew, Goldblatt, and Perraton (1999) put it, What is Swedish or German
culture, how can we chart its changes? . . . Can we meaningfully gauge how
Swedish the Swedes feel or how French the French? Even if we were able to do
any of these things, could we track changes in the intensity of identification
and relate it to shifts in cultural enmeshment? All of this line of argument
rests on the assumption that there is in any case a definable, lived national
culture. Yet we know that such an idea is, at least in part, an active
ideological creation that masks profound cultural divisions of gender, race,
class and region within a nation-state. (p. 369) If we accept that (national)
culture is indeed a social and ideological construct, we need to ask what it is
used for. An obvious question would be that discourses of culture contribute to
nation construction and mundane, everyday nationalism, but what are the ways in
which it is done? And what other functions or unintended consequences does
“culturespeak” (Hannerz, 1999) have? Already at the outset it is clear that
culture has many meanings (e.g., see Williams, 1988, pp. 87-93) and that its
different uses are related to various social and discursive practices. The
question is, Do these different discourses or repertoires (Potter &
Wetherell, 1987) form any totality, or is it just by coincidence that in public
discussion one refers to separate things by using the same concept? To address
these questions, a sensible way to analyze how and for what purposes the
concept of culture is used is to conduct an empirical analysis of its use in
actual practice. Therefore, as an example of the uses of the concept of culture
in public discussion, in this article I will use empirical material to analyze
the discursive structures of the public discussion in Finland during the 1980s
and 1990s on national arts and culture. The material consists for the main part
of editorials published during the month of December in two major Finnish
newspapers, Aamulehti and Helsingin Sanomat, from 1985 to 1995. The choice of
December as the target month for this analysis meant that the material came to
include quite a large number of articles with distinct national undertones:
Finland celebrates Independence Day on December 6. This, however, is not just
an unfortunate coincidence that distorts the material. On the contrary, my
argument is that public talk about culture and arts often has an elevated and
programmatic tone. This may apply to Finland in particular, but I argue that it
also shows more generally how closely related public culturespeak is to the
construction of national identity. High culture and arts complying with
European 158 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 international
standards have held a very special place in the nation-state ideology and in
the building of nation-states. The choice of the time span analyzed—from the 1980s
until the end of the 1990s—links the local case study to the broader issues
related to globalization. For instance, how is Finnish national culture
articulated in the discussion, and what implications does that have for the
fact that Finland is one of the European countries that has, especially from
the 1990s onward, experienced a rapid growth in immigrant population? Second,
during that time span the expansion and deepening of market relations (e.g., in
the form of privatization) has in many ways changed the institutional context
of public “culture spending.” That, in turn, can be expected to affect the
related justifying or critical discourses that construct art and entertainment
and the general public as the audience. Thus, through analyzing the uses of
culture in public discussion, we are also dealing with techniques of what
Foucault (1980) called “biopolitics,” that is, the means by which nation-states
mold the people to fit the ideals of the elite and the needs of the national
and global economy. A question related to that is, Are prevalent discourses of
culture and art and the public changing because of the changing institutional
contexts? Finally, the recent changes in the world system that now often go by
the name of globalization also include the end of the cold war and the
geopolitical effects it has had. As the case analysis will show, even this
change has had a bearing on the Finnish public discourses on culture. As to the
methodological and theoretical framework used in this article, I employ a
constructionist and discourse-analytic approach. Although the empirical
material analyzed is texts, I emphasize that we are not dealing only with
language, with how things are perceived and defined as opposed to how they are
in reality. Such an opposition between language and reality is ill conceived.
Language does not just describe material reality or practices; language use
always is action, with various consequences. When things are defined or
redefined in a certain way, it affects people’s action, and in that sense each
turn in a conversation is indeed a turn, like a move in a game. This “speech
act” (Austin, 1962) aspect of language also concerns actors themselves:
Definitions of situation and definitions of self and others position human
subjects and affect their action. In a way, one cannot even talk about human
subjects apart from interaction and communication; a single institutional
setting of interaction does not produce or determine the subjects, but in the
long run humans are what they do in interaction with each other. In this
approach to analyzing texts, I am especially indebted to Michel Foucault, who
was also interested in what he termed discourses or discursive formations. By
that concept he referred to the complex role of language in human reality
discussed above. He analyzed texts but insisted that in the contexts in which
they were originally uttered they must be understood to represent much more
than just language in the conventional sense. He does not treat discourses
merely as groups of signs, Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation
159 but as practices that systematically form the objects of which they speak.
Of course, discourses are composed of signs; but what they do is more than use
these signs to designate things. It is this more that renders them irreducible
to the language (langue) and to speech. (1972, p. 49) I begin by looking at how
national arts and popular culture are related to the nation-state ideology in
general and in Finland in particular. I then move on to analyze the recent
discussion in Finland on culture and arts. This provides the basis for my
concluding remarks about the changing role and meaning of cultural policy in
Finland. I will then extend that discussion to the political implications of
culturespeak, especially in European nation-states. Nationalism and European
Cultural Heritage The building of nation-states and the nationalist sentiments
inspired by this process used to be more or less exclusive territory for
historical research. However, the collapse of the Soviet Union and various
other developments in recent years have offered an excellent opportunity to
observe the growth of newly independent nation-states, a process in which
culture and arts still seem to play a crucial part. For the researcher, the
birth of a new nation-state virtually creates laboratory conditions for
analyzing the processes set in train by the changes—it is much easier to see
exactly what is happening in a new nationstate than in an old, naturalized one.
This is true in spite of the fact that banal everyday nationalism (to use
Michael Billig’s [1995] term) remains firmly in place, even once the
nation-state has been born and once it has established its place as a nation
among nations. What appears to be a natural idea of “us” as a nation is
something that is constantly maintained by the nation-state’s institutions and
its public sphere. Speeches and independence days are just the tip of the
iceberg. Finland and Uzbekistan An interesting example is provided by the
Central Asian state of Uzbekistan, which gained independence from the Soviet
Union in 1991. Laura Adams’s (1999) study of the process of nation building in
Uzbekistan revealed some intriguing similarities with the independence process
in Finland in 1917. Before it was incorporated as a constituent republic of the
Soviet Union, the territory within Uzbekistan’s borders was occupied by three
feudal city-states and various nomadic tribes. Uzbeks and Tajiks were the
dominant groups prior to the Russian conquest. Soviet national policy was to
represent the Soviet Union as a multicultural country composed of several
nationalities; Uzbekistan was to be shaped into one of these states. The policy
was basically derived from European ideas of romantic nationalism: Each nation
was seen as a cul- 160 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001
ture that could be identified and separated from a group of others on the basis
of distinctive customs, songs, dances, and cultural products on display in
museums. The elements available were put together into a package that was in
keeping with Soviet ideology. At galas introducing the cultures of different
nationalities, “ancient” songs were performed, but with new lyrics that told
about Lenin and labor. In other words, it was a very carefully orchestrated
culture that was on show, but it was this Soviet national ideology that created
in people’s minds the conception of an entity called Uzbekistan. When the state
of Uzbekistan gained independence in the early 1990s, its public image was
changed. Old songs got their original lyrics back, and Islam was reinstated.
The country’s socialist past was erased from the picture, partly because it
would have been an embarrassing subject for the political and cultural elite in
the country—this was largely the same elite that was there during Soviet rule.
Cultural life in Uzbekistan is still 95% under state control. The Ministry of
Culture continues to decide on all grants awarded to the performing arts and to
issue guidelines for production. All arts and leisure activities, from sewing
circles at a kolkhoz’s house of culture to the repertoire of the national opera
and ballet theatre, are overseen by the Ministry of Culture. Every city and
province has its own house of culture, and music and dance ensembles and other
performing arts groups obtain their money from the Ministry complete with
instructions as to what kind of products the decision makers want to see.
National arts should be clearly distinguishable from the arts of other
nationalities, but it is important not to convey too backward an image of the
country to the outside world. One of the ways in which feelings of nationalism
have been strengthened in independent Uzbekistan has been through song
contests. One of the winners of these contests was so popular that it was
played at the Independence Day spectacle. “I Love You, Uzbekistan” was
performed by a Russian singer in three languages: Russian, Uzbek, and English.
The English version was included to highlight the country’s status on the international
scene as a nation among nations. The case of Uzbekistan may sound like a rather
remote and exotic example of how a nation-state is built, yet on closer
examination we can find quite a few familiar elements. Consider, for instance,
the role and position of intellectuals. As a legacy of the country’s Soviet
past, most of the people in high-ranking positions in Uzbekistan are Russian
speakers, but the ongoing nationalist project draws heavily on the language and
the cultural heritage of the Uzbeks, the country’s majority population. Having
said that (and this is another legacy of the Soviet past), Uzbekistan is keen
to underline the country’s multicultural identity—speeches on national holidays
still repeat the theme of “friendship of the people” just as they did 20 years
earlier. Laura Adams (1999) described how at an Independence Day gala in the
Tashkent area, Russians dressed in the traditional Uzbek national costume
perform in the Russian language a song about Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment,
Culture, and Nation 161 their (new) homeland—although the only response they
receive from the audience is a roar of laughter. This could be compared with
the position of Swedish speakers in Finnish nationalist ideology and the
project to build the Finnish nation-state. As a legacy of its past under
Swedish rule, the newly autonomous Finland had a civil service that consisted
entirely of Swedish speakers. However, the nation-state ideology that gathered
momentum among intellectuals was built on the foundation of the Finnish
language that was spoken by the majority of people and on cultural elements
from within the Finnish language. Unlike the Russian people in Uzbekistan who,
according to Adams (1999), are reluctant to learn the language of the majority
population of the newly independent region, large numbers of Swedish speakers
in autonomous Finland were quite excited about the new Fennomanian ideology.
Many of them learned the Finnish language, began speaking it in their homes,
and even changed their names. The two cases are not quite as different as one
might be inclined to think at first glance. Attitudes toward the majority
population in Finland and its cultural traits were contradictory. For instance,
intellectuals inspired by the nationalist ideology began to collect runes and
other materials from the cultural heritage of the Finnish-speaking population,
but (just as in Uzbekistan) ethnographers and folklorists were highly selective
in what they chose to include. Vulgar poems, songs, and jokes were all omitted,
and Elias Lönnrot, author of the Finnish national epic, did quite a lot of
editing and rewriting of the material he had collected to get the Kalevala read
like its international examples.1 The identification of intellectuals with the
Finnish-speaking majority population was also contradictory. On one hand, the
Fennomans decided to become Finns, but on the other hand it was thought that
Finnish people and the Finnish culture were in need of development through a
popular education project. The national elite at once identified with the
majority population and set themselves apart from them. The observation by
Matti Peltonen (1988) that even today reference to Finnish people and Finnish
culture is understood as an allusion to Finnish people being backward and uncivilized
has to do precisely with this educational and development project undertaken by
the elite (Alasuutari, 1996, chap. 8). One of the ambitions of the Finnish
nationalist ideology was to create a national Finnish-language literature and
other forms of art: theatre, opera, art music, and visual arts. In spite of the
doubts voiced by some Swedish-speaking circles, the aim was to prove that grand
ideas and grand emotions could in fact be conveyed in the Finnish language
(Niemi, 1980, p. 334). Eventually, with the growth of Fennomanian science and
arts associations and the introduction of state subsidies, “national
representative arts” were successfully created (Tuomikoski-Leskelä, 1977, pp.
20-22). Just as Uzbekistan today, Finland in the late 19th century wanted to
represent its national cultural heritage in a form that complied with
international 162 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001
standards. For instance, the opera department at the Finnish Theatre wanted to
promote Finnish culture with a very traditionalist program with strong European
overtones. The purpose was not so much to convey nationalist sentiments via the
contents of the program but to prove that it was possible with the Finnish
language to produce arts that lived up to international standards (Niemi, 1980,
p. 338). The same applies to the romantic genre of Karenialism that evolved in
domestic arts. Sibelius, for instance, dealt with national romantic themes, and
it is said that he created a “national tone language”—but there is no doubt
that first and foremost his music represents the tradition of European art
music (Tirranen, 1980, p. 364). In the visual arts, too, the Karelianist period
was characterized by exceptionally lively international contacts: Influences
were sought not only from France, but also from Germany, Italy, Scandinavia,
and England (Reitala, 1980). As in the case of Uzbekistan, the project in
Finland to create national arts was not only about inspiring feelings of
national identity and cohesion but also about ambitions to change and shape the
tastes and the customs of the majority population toward those prevailing among
European intellectuals so that the new nation-state could be represented as a
modern, advanced nation among others. That is why it was also a primary concern
in Finland to make sure that all the art genres codified in Europe were on
show: opera, ballet, the visual arts, and classical music. The nation-state is
an international idea that originated in Europe. Therefore, it is hardly surprising
that the ways in which it is represented are based on international standards
codified in Western countries. Consider, for instance, state symbols: All
countries are expected to have an official national flag that can be hoisted
and that (usually) has the same proportions. And then there is the national
hymn: On all continents and in all cultural spheres, the intonation and
arrangement of most hymns follow the classical European music heritage. The
purpose of national symbols and cultural products is to express the culture
that is thought to be distinctive of that particular country, but at the same
time that distinctiveness should be conveyed in a manner that stands up to
international scrutiny. It could be suggested that national symbols are based
on random convention, that they are historical reminders of the fact that the
nation-state ideology developed in Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries. But
there is, in fact, more to these symbols. By favoring their national culture’s
forms of European art that comply with international standards, nation-states
want to convey to the global community an image of themselves and their people
as a modern, technologically advanced country that is a match for any other
country competing in the international arena. The same message is conveyed to
the people who are to become the new nation among nations: It is important that
they should adopt the international standards of culture and the corresponding
forms of mentality, because it is by following these standards that the nation
will succeed Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation 163 in the
global competition. The public forms of representing national culture are
always, to a lesser or greater extent, a matter of the national elite talking
to the majority population. The Development of Finnish Cultural Policy As I
pointed out earlier, the current nationalist project and cultural policy in the
newly independent state of Uzbekistan can be compared with the situation that
prevailed in Finland when the country gained independence in 1917. Since then,
Finnish cultural policy (along with the policies in many other West European
countries) has been through various stages before reaching the current
situation where globalization has thrown up various challenges to national
cultural policy. The main challenge is that the nature of the expertise and
position of the national elite as intellectual leaders in their respective
countries is in a state of flux. The kind of cultural protectionism that was
typical of a more closed national economy and the popular education project are
no longer viable options. On one hand, the problem for the national elite is
that it is virtually impossible for them to lock out any influences that they
consider alien or harmful or to control the volume and distribution of these
influences as they used to. On the other hand, they can no longer resort to the
same ways of legitimizing state policies aimed at steering the “intellectual
state” of the nation and people’s leisure activities. Dating from around the
turn of the century, the policy of public subsidies for the arts has evolved
during the past few decades into “welfare-state cultural policy,” and has
recently run into a crisis. This has implied an expansion of the former,
narrower concept of art policy into a more integral part of welfare state
mechanisms. The sector that was responsible for supporting and promoting
national representative arts now became part of public administration, with a
broader responsibility for the everyday welfare of ordinary citizens. From one
point of view, this trend in development can be seen as a liberalization of
conceptions of art. One of the indications of the more permissive attitude was
that a much wider range of arts beyond the traditional field was now eligible
for state support. Following the international example, with the Unesco
conference in 1970 and the Eurocult conference in 1972 among the main
influences (Ahponen, 1994, p. 103), this expanded field of cultural products
was now referred to with the concept of culture. At the same time, the concept
of art policy was gradually replaced by cultural policy, which in addition to
arts came to comprise the mass media, popular education, organizations and
associations, library services, research, and independent leisure pursuits. The
emphasis shifted from products to activity, from the promotion of arts to the
promotion of different artistic leisure interests. By the 1980s, the rhetoric
of cultural policy was more comprehensive still. The former boundaries of high
culture were called into question as popular culture, everyday culture, and
sub- 164 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 cultures were
compared with art culture. The key principles identified by the United Nations
for the World Decade for Cultural Development from 1988 to 1997 were the
reinforcement of cultural identity, the recognition of the cultural dimension
in welfare development, and the expansion of cultural democracy (Ahponen, 1994,
pp. 106-107). On the other hand, this same history can also be interpreted as a
development in which state measures have been applied to try and control in
even greater detail what kind of influences people receive and the way they
spend their leisure. From this point of view, conceptual innovations on how to
define this activity are an attempt to make it less controlled and more
democratic—to hide from view the paternalism of cultural policy. In practice,
however, this has proved quite difficult, because state support is necessarily
selective. This, in turn, means that certain cultural products or leisure
activities have to be considered in one way or another as more valuable than
others. From this vantage point, the development of cultural policy can be
studied in terms of changes in the value premises by reference to which state
support and control are justified. In traditional art policy, the criterion up
to the 1960s was the artistry and aestheticism of cultural products, whereas
since the inception of democratic and activating art policy, the key criterion
was how cultural products “activated” people. This implied an expansion of the
realm of cultural policy from products to the support of different kinds of
civic activity and leisure interests; at the same time, the distinction between
good and bad, high quality and low quality, or high and low culture, was
expanded from the classical arts to popular culture—and from products to
activity, to what kind of activity was worthy of public support and what was
not. Attempts to justify cultural policy in a manner that fits in with the
prevailing intellectual climate, yet without sounding overly elitistic or
paternalistic, have led to a paradoxical outcome. It has been easier to defend
decisions to support what the elite regards as art when that has been part of a
broader entity, but at the same time many other areas of social policy that
used to be treated separately have appeared in a new light, that is, as part of
the tradition of popular education. Public support for arts and the related
project of popular art education could be seen through the concept of cultural
policy as part of a much broader system including schools, the mass media, and
health education— indeed, the whole arsenal of state biopolitics (Foucault,
1980) with which nation-states attempted to mold the people to fit the ideals
of the elite. In many ways, the past 80 years of Finnish independence can be
described as a golden era of this kind of popular education and cultural
protectionism (Alasuutari, 1996, pp. 185-215), but its legitimacy has been
undermined as matters belonging to the domain of this kind of biopolitics have
been lumped together under one and the same heading in state documents and
state administrative structures. Clearly, then, the inference cannot be drawn
that state biopolitics has a firmer grip than ever on people, that the state
oversees to a much greater extent Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and
Nation 165 than before what people think and how they spend their time—even
though art policy, having transformed through discursive struggles and
conceptual innovations over the past few decades into cultural policy or
“civilization policy,” has now become a more important part of welfare state
policy. Rather, the reason why the question of how people are influenced and
how they spend their time has been the subject of such intense debate is that
states now have to reckon with much fiercer competition than before. That
competition is represented by a multinational entertainment and leisure
industry. Ever since the invention of radio and electronic sound reproduction,
cultural policy in its present sense has largely been geared to controlling
public access to mass media and other cultural products; this applies not only
to Finland, but to other countries as well. As soon as radio broadcasting
started in the mid-1920s, it was made a state monopoly, harnessed to the
official objective of promoting popular education (Tulppo, 1976, p. 39). This
has meant that both the music that is played on the radio and the films and all
other program genres shown on television have been divided into “high” and
“low” culture, into cultural products that comply with the ideals and those
that run counter to them. Access to the latter has been restricted. However,
various technological advances made it increasingly difficult to exercise this
kind of control, and the startup of commercial television (which in Finland
happened in 1957) complicated the situation even further. The breaking point
came in the late 1980s when VCRs, cable channels, and satellite dishes made
nonsense of state control over electronic mass communication. The Finnish state
monopoly of radio broadcasting was dismantled in 1985, and in 1993 the
country’s only commercial television station, MTV3, received its own operating license.
Only a few years later, a second commercial television company was set up. The
status and role of state-owned electronic media have changed quite profoundly.
The state is no longer in a position to dictate what people are allowed to see
and hear, but its educational program policy has to compete for viewers and
listeners with commercial operators. At the same time, the public service
broadcaster has to justify its existence to citizens, for they must pay for its
upkeep in the form of annual license fees. In the present situation, the old
justifications for publicly supporting the production of culture are no longer
valid. As we will see below in an analysis of the cultural policy debate in
Finland from the late 1980s to the 1990s, one of the new discursive elements in
the recent debate is to say that cultural policy is an economically viable
business and to regard it as a long-term investment for the state. Another
central theme in the Finnish and the international debate is to represent the
policy of public support and control as a way of defending national
independence and existence against mass entertainment and its stupidifying and
homogenizing effects. This pushes to the sidelines all questions about
hierarchies and their justification, about what is good or bad for people, how
far people shall be protected against bad influences, and how these 166
Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 decisions shall be made.
Their place is taken by questions concerning the national versus the international.
The specific, internally contradictory meaning given in the public debate to
the concept of culture is crystallized precisely in this articulation. The
Repertoires of Cultural Policy Let us move on now to look at how art and
culture are treated in the public debate in present-day Finland. What are
people doing, and what exactly do they mean when they talk about art and
culture? Why is so much of what they say so contradictory? Sometimes culture is
used to refer to the performing arts (e.g., theatre, films, and music) and
sometimes to lifestyle and the way that people perceive the world. What are the
functions of talking about art and culture in this way? Culture and National
Economy A recurring theme in the debate on culture and its role seems to be its
relationship to economic policy. Whether directly or indirectly, commentators
on cultural policy often start out from the premise that culture is supported
from the public purse; a key issue, therefore, is deciding on what grounds
culture should or should not be subsidized. The most straightforward example is
provided by the argumentation that the branch of cultural services is a
profitable business, or at least beneficial to the national economy as a whole.
Culture is seen as an investment by the state or local government in the
future, an investment that in the long run will yield a profit. Director of
Cultural Services in Tampere, Mr Lassi Saressalo asks in Kansan Uutiset whether
anyone can say what kind of long-term benefits children’s art education will
have for society. Or how many patients less come to the health centre on
account of pensioners’ clubs. A pinch of culture a day keeps the doctor away,
Saressalo says. Nor is culture always necessarily an expense item. German
research suggests that every penny invested in culture produces a net profit of
at least one and a half times over. Tampere Hall brings into the city an
impressive FIM 230 million a year. (“Ripaus Kulttuuria,” 1992, p. A2) Culture
as a Source of Intellectual Activity The extract above refers to one of the
arguments that is used to underline the positive effects of culture on the
national economy. The idea here is that investAlasuutari • Art, Entertainment,
Culture, and Nation 167 ments in culture contribute to people’s mental health
and in that way act to prevent other social costs. In addition, this repertoire
stresses that intellectual activity also increases people’s economic activity.
The report [on the national education strategy] displays a firm belief in the
beneficial effects of education. The working group says that a national
education strategy can help to overcome the intellectual recession and get the
economy back on track. This is something we should not forget even at a time
when people are queuing up for free bread. (“Lama-Suomesta,” 1993, p. A2)
Cultural and Education Services In the extracts above, the term culture is used
to refer to the public support of cultural production and arts performances.
However, this sector of state or municipal services is often linked up with
education services. This link provides further legitimacy to calls for
supporting culture—the same arguments that are used to justify the public
science and educational system apply to culture as well. For instance, the 1993
national education strategy compiled by a Ministry of Education working group
links up culture with the educational system: The term itself refers to “the
establishment of guidelines for the development of a cultural and educational
infrastructure that will help us prepare for a future marked by uncertainty and
rapid change.” The components of this intellectual infrastructure are
education, research, culture and civic activities. (“Lama-Suomesta,” 1993, p.
A2) Here, the argument in favor of supporting cultural services is that arts
help to maintain the national educational heritage. Culture, particularly when
it is combined with the rest of the education sector, adds to human resources.
A small, remote country like Finland does not have very many options. Its
success will primarily be based on human resources. When it is admitted that
the only way forward for Finnish people is through self-development, the
authorities can make a clear-cut decision: invest as much as possible into
education, research and culture. (“Käyttövoimaksi,” 1991, p. A4) Highlighting
as it does the civilizing effects of culture, this repertoire also raises the
distinction between what kind of art or activity is civilizing and what is not.
Whereas earlier the argument was that investments in culture will always pay
back, in this case there is no reference to pensioners’ clubs; the talk is now
about high culture. Finnish music is customarily regarded as our most
international and also our “easiest” art genre. Without in any way denying this
it is important to underline the role that Finnish-language literature has
played in identity-building even at 168 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical
Methodologies • May 2001 times when the whole nation is preoccupied with the
entirely futile exercise that is the TV channel reform. (“Päättyykö Laman,”
1992, p. A2) In this extract, Finnish-language literature and concerns over its
future are set against the establishment of a third commercial television
channel, which at the time was quite hotly debated. This kind of futile
exercise should be left alone, with all energies concentrated on supporting the
production of such cultural products that cannot survive on commercial criteria
alone. The situation of literature is getting worse all the time. Publishers
are bringing out less quality literature, with translations, lyric poetry and
experiments by younger writers most particularly in the danger zone. At the
same time there are plans to impose heavier taxes on all printed matter.
(“Päättyykö Laman,” 1992, p. A2) Art and the Audience As far as high culture is
concerned, commentators seem to feel a special obligation to explain and
justify its value and high quality. The purpose is to find ways to justify the
need to support such performing arts or such forms of writing that cannot be
sustained on the basis of sales or box office revenues. The argumentation for
the need to value and maintain high culture (i.e., art that artists can only
produce if they have public support) tends to be somewhat circular. Art has to
be supported and valued because it is of a high quality and standard. If the
audience does not understand that art is of a high quality, then the problem
has to lie in the audience itself; experts certainly are capable of making the
distinction between good art and bad art. The solution that can be suggested is
art education. One of the proposed forms of art education is to make good art
accessible to the general public, even though there is no money to be made in
this. This may be justified by reference to the principle of equality: Art
performances should not be so expensive that only the rich and wealthy can
afford to go and see them. From this it follows that the state has to subsidize
art. In the practice of art policy, this problem of high-quality art having a
limited audience is often reversed: If it is too straightforward to suggest
that a performance or cultural product that does not make a profit has to be a
form of high culture, then at least it will cease to be defined by the state as
art as soon as it does begin to generate a profit. Or the other way around: “In
the practice of cultural policy, a form of art is redefined as non-commercial
and non-entertainment as soon as it becomes eligible for public support”
(Liikkanen, 1994, p. 13). This is how the state acts in the world of art to
uphold the distinction between high and low, between cultural products for a
narrow and a broad audience. Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and
Nation 169 For the people who are involved in making cultural products that
represent high culture, the need to adhere to a form of artistic expression
that is different and therefore appeals only to a certain narrow audience
segment is grounded in forces that lie within art itself. Even if the artist
wanted to have a larger audience, he or she cannot compromise because to do so
would mean that the end product, according to the criteria of the art itself,
would no longer qualify as art. To simplify, this inherent constraint comes
from the idea that to qualify as art, cultural products have to find new forms
of expression, something that has not been done before. From this point of
view, a small audience is a drawback—an unfortunate fact, but there is nothing
really that the artist can do about it. This is what Seppo Heikinheimo writes
about the dilemma: Among novelists I would imagine that living authors probably
control something like 50-80 per cent of the field, whereas the situation in
classical music is probably more than the opposite: I would be surprised if
contemporary composers accounted for five per cent of all programmes.
(“Säveltäminen,” 1995, p. B3) The main reason for this is that concert
audiences do not feel comfortable with atonal music, which wants to break down
old conventions. According to Heikinheimo, there is no going back, however: “On
the other hand we have to realize that naive composition quite simply is
something that is not on any more” (“Säveltäminen,” 1995, p. B3). This argument
for supporting art is also circular in the sense that it does not explain why
“naive” composition (which complies with traditional forms and structures) is
no longer possible. It does set out certain formal criteria for evaluating
whether art is good or bad in saying that good music, for instance, has more
depth and more layers to it than bad music; but this does not yet explain why
the audience should resort to art education to learn to appreciate all those
layers in the light of the history of art music. The innovative nature of art
should be accepted as a value in itself. It is assumed that the audience
considers art as such a high value that studying it is required so that the
audience can understand what it is all about. The relationship between the
taste of the general public and the form language of high culture has, however,
become increasingly problematic during the 1980s and 1990s. The world of art
has had to pay more attention to its relationship with the tastes and
preferences of the general public. The argumentation that art deserves public
support because “art is art” is no longer taken for granted to the same extent
as it was in earlier decades. This is not to say that there has been any major
revolution or about-face, but the objective of trying to please the audience,
to offer people aesthetic experiences, has been added alongside the old art
discourse. This additional perspective is clearly in evidence in an editorial
in which Helsingin Sanomat analyzes a report published in 1994 by an
international group of experts of Finnish cultural policy: 170 Cultural Studies
↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 The strengths of our cultural policy,
according to the group of international experts, are its high level of public
support, its grants and copyright system, the comprehensive and established
network of cultural institutions, and the large number of visitors to cultural
events. Indeed the interest of the general public is in the end the ultimate
and the best indicator of the quality of cultural services offered. (“Maan
Kulttuuripolitiikka,” 1994, p. A4) Art and Nationalism One way to defend the position
of state-subsidized art is to say that it is patriotic to hold it in high
regard, that this is an indication of strong nationalist feelings. By holding
art in high regard and by showing our appreciation through public support, we
are expressing our appreciation for Finland, Finnish culture, and Finland’s
cultural heritage: The steady steps of welfare also lean on education and
national culture. Material well-being is a slender legacy indeed to leave to
future generations if that is not complemented by the new achievements of
Finnish culture, art and science and a solid appreciation of culture.
(“Jälkimaailma,” 1991, p. A2) Arguments in favor of support for high-culture
products often point out that this is an important way of supporting and
treasuring national identity. The roots of our independence go back more than
75 years. During the first (1899-1905) and the second (1908-1917) period of
oppression Finland built up its identity on the strength of its culture. Today
there is no more oppression, in the proper sense of the word. Yet at least
symbolically we can still speak of oppression by the force of money: with the
ongoing economic recession we do tend to be preoccupied with economic values.
This may give rise to an illusion. In an interview in today’s Aamulehti,
Chairman of our Independence Jubilee Committee Mr Kalevi Sorsa emphasizes the
importance of intellectual values and specifically of Finnish-language
literature. The age of the Kalevala, Aleksis Kivi and Väinö Linna is by no
means over, but is going strong under new emblems, with new literature. The
development of our cultural heritage cannot be halted by one recession.
(“Päättyykö Laman,” 1992, p. A2) What exactly does “national identity” mean in
this discourse? One of its meanings is national difference; it refers to
something that sets the Finnish people apart from other peoples. On the other
hand, it seems that the reference is also to such national characteristics of
which Finnish people are aware and with which we identify. It is about a national
sense of unity, of national spirit, which according to the editorial above
requires the “support of print material, living culture.” According to this
repertoire, we can be proud of being Finnish when we have something we can be
proud about. That something is art. Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture,
and Nation 171 National and International The nationalist perspective that
appears in the repertoire discussed above is contrasted with excessive
nationalism. Here it is stressed that nationalism must not be allowed to spill
over into parochialism or intolerance toward other nationalities. This is how
Aamulehti summed up the national education strategy that was published in 1993:
The working group’s ideal is a cultured Finland that should “understand and
appreciate national traditions and create new traditions, but at the same time
respect difference; a cultural society where there is flourishing material and
intellectual activity and lively international interaction.” (“Lama-Suomesta,”
1993, p. A2) The accent on internationalism as a counterbalance to nationalism
is also connected with the knowledge that modern businesspeople need different
cultures. In this repertoire, this kind of multicultural awareness is presented
as an important competitive asset in the world markets and as part of the
nation’s educational policy. Contacts will not transform into good cooperation
without an in-depth knowledge of different cultures. Indeed experts are now
asking, with good reason, whether Finnish universities are providing people
with the training they need to understand the movements of peoples and cultures
in the rapidly changing environment that is Europe. They may be doing so, but
the numbers are still far too small. (“Käyttövoimaksi,” 1991, p. A4) To an extent,
then, the accent on the national cultural heritage is contrasted with respect
for difference and multiculturalism: Because nationalism is considered to
signify respect for and pride in national culture, it is realized that there is
also the possibility of the nation feeling superior to other cultures. This, in
turn, may easily lead to racist attitudes, and it is for this reason that
mentions of nationalism are closely followed by mentions of the value of
multiculturalism. National cultures are thus contrasted with one another as if
they were competing with one another; they are compared with one another as
rivals. Part of this competition is the ability of the Finnish system of higher
education to provide people with the training they need to understand different
cultures. In this case, the results of the competition are distributed through
the results achieved in international business. This competition perspective is
based on an understanding of culture as composed of everything significant that
the nation has achieved. On one hand, it is a collection of works of art and
other achievements by the nation’s great men and women; on the other hand, it
refers to the level of education and civilization in the nation. This helps to
explain the paradox that the cultural products which are thought to be
distinctive of national culture are in fact part of a 172 Cultural Studies ↔
Critical Methodologies • May 2001 universal or, more correctly, a pan-European
tradition of art. If the cultural products that serve as the symbols of
domestic culture and that are the source of national pride did not represent
universally recognized art genres, it would be much harder to compare them with
the achievements of other nations. That is why culture is also considered an
export product: If it fares well in the competition with the works of art
produced by other nations, that is a good advertisement for the nation and an
indication of the high standards of its culture. This international display of
national cultures and works of art does not take the form of rivalry on
commercial export markets or competition among the culture industries of
different countries. Instead, each nation-state is competing in its own league.
In each case, the principal audience consists of a relatively narrow national
cultural elite. Exports and imports of arts very rarely work on a purely
commercial basis without government subsidies. This is why the collapse of
socialism in Eastern Europe damaged the export prospects of Finnish arts—all
these states simply withdrew from the market. Exports of Finnish literature are
also not doing very well; now that the countries of former Eastern Europe have
become market economies, one of the losers is Finnish literature. For instance,
while socialist Hungary used to publish Mika Waltari in print runs of up to
150,000 copies, this year’s harvest is one single collection of short
novels—and even that would not have been possible without the support of the
Finnish government. There are plenty of examples. (“Päättyykö Laman,” 1992, p.
A2) The Reverse Side of Cultured: Uncivilized Common People Even when culture
is used in the public debate to refer to people’s lifestyles and way of
thinking, the concept of culture is hierarchic. For instance, discussions about
Finnish traffic or conversation culture are usually concerned with assessing
how good or bad it is, or to what extent we have a culture in this or that
sphere of life. Culture refers to the sophistication of our customs; it is
synonymous with civilization. The following extract from Aamulehti is about
“lager louts” and their behavior abroad. Finland is a cultured nation. Everyone
who is over seven years of age can read. It is quite appalling to see how as
soon as Finnish people cross the border into a foreign country, all signs of
culture and civilization are immediately washed away. It is a national disgrace
that Finnish people behave on their trips to Leningrad and Tallinn the way they
do. Semi-conscious, rowdy lager louts are making nonsense of all the efforts to
build up a positive image of Finland as a modern nation. (“Renttuturismia,”
1988, p. A2) In this account, culture is represented as an outcome of a good,
proper education. It is a thicker or thinner layer that accumulates with
popular education on the creature who without that education would remain in a
natural state. Culture here refers to Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture,
and Nation 173 the norms or rules of behavior that guarantee that the
individual is polite and considerate toward others. On the other hand, real
humanity is only reached through the kind of behavior that complies with
cultural (but what are assumed to be universal) norms: The great majority of
Finnish people know how to behave even when they are abroad. This also has to
do with them, with how they are allowed to enjoy themselves. Who is
responsible? (“Renttuturismia,” 1988, p. A2) In this repertoire, the behavior
of certain Finnish people becomes a national issue that may be used to justify
state alcohol control, for instance. It is not only the patient people of
Leningrad and Tallinn who have to witness the behavior of our lager louts.
Travellers from all over the world share hotels with these people. The accounts
they take home of Finnish people are incredible. Incredible yet unfortunately
true. Is there really nothing we can do to interfere in this behavior which
brings discredit on us as a people and which is an insult to other peoples? Do
we just have to wait until the patience of the militia in our neighbouring
country runs out? (“Renttuturismia,” 1988, p. A2) In this editorial, the
citizens of all other countries are represented as decent, wellbehaved, patient
people who have never seen such barbarism before and who are deeply offended.
Travelers are portrayed as members of different “peoples,” each people with its
own set of distinctive cultural features. Although the editor starts out by
saying that it is Finnish people in general who are guilty of this kind of
uncivilized behavior, washing down all signs of culture and civilization as
soon as they cross the national border, by the end of the editorial the
culprits are no more than a small minority of people. Be this as it may, the
image that is repeated in accounts of Finnish people as uncivilized, rowdy
lager louts serves as a justification for the need for popular education and
state art policy. This is how Aamulehticomments on the final report of the
committee on international communication in 1990: The aim must be to create an
atmosphere which will endorse all open-minded solutions that are necessary for
art policy, which will support marginal cultures and aim to increase the
individual’s everyday life-satisfaction. The sound foundation for these main
proposals is the idea that the image that is projected to the outside world of
Finland cannot be more pristine than the reality that this image reflects, and
it is easy to subscribe to the views put forward by the committee. However, if
you have happened to be listening again to what MPs are suggesting in
Parliament about changing the names of educational institutions and about
lowering the language proficiency requirements in Finland, one may well ask
where the necessary political will can be found to raise the level of
education. (“Suomi Paremmaksi,” 1990, p. A2) 174 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical
Methodologies • May 2001 This extract provides another example of how the
objective of raising the level of education in Finland (which is often
justified by arguments of improving the national economy’s international
competitiveness) is tied up with arguments for keeping up state subsidies for
arts by speaking in more general terms about raising the level of education or
supporting culture. The committee says that investments need to be made most
especially in education, the environment and culture. Finland should be made
into the besteducated nation in Europe and a model country for environmental
policy which also has a thriving culture. (“Suomi-Kuva,” 1990, p. A4) The
“uncivilized” behavior of Finnish tourists provides a very useful justification
for state education and art policy in the sense that a single bad example is
thought to be enough to ruin the positive image of Finland. It is hardly
conceivable that all Finnish people even in the future will in each and every
situation behave in a manner that is conducive to a more favorable image of the
country. Public Image and the Europeanness of Finnish People Why has the
presumed backwardness and lack of civilization of the majority population and
international perceptions of Finland become such an important national question
for Finns? Why is it that the remedy suggested for all this is to invest in
European-influenced art? One of the reasons may be that Finland’s geopolitical
position in the postwar period has not been very clear to the international
audience. Politically, Finland has often been considered to form part of the
Eastern bloc, and in terms of our language, culture, and even biological
heritage, the links have also been assumed to be stronger toward Asia rather
than Western Europe. Supporting art that complies with the classical European
standards has been part of a campaign aimed at demonstrating that at least as
far as culture is concerned, Finland is an integral part of Europe. During the
1980s and 1990s, this campaign to refresh the country’s cultural image was
complemented by a politico-economic strategy—as soon as this became possible
following the decline of the Soviet Union. Together with two other neutral
states, Austria and Sweden, Finland began to establish closer links with and
eventually a full membership in the European Union—a solution that was out of
the question for a neutral country during the heated years of the cold war. As
far as the image problem is concerned, European integration has been considered
an even better solution than image campaigns, as the following editorial
indicates: We would get much better and much cheaper results as far as the
state and tax-payers are concerned via economic relations, which are really
developing all Alasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation 175 by
themselves. For instance, Nokia’s most recent acquisition conveys an image to
all people in Western Europe of a modern industrial country. This image will be
complemented when together with the other EFTA countries Finland begins to sort
out its economic relations with the European Community. (“Rajallista,” 1987, p.
A2) During the 1980s and 1990s, with Soviet influences decreasing and Finland
becoming an integral part of the European economic area, we have seen new
openings in the debate on Finnish people and Finnish culture. For instance, in
1993 Aamulehti took note of the argument made by Licentiate of Theology Jaana
Hallamaa in Helsingin Sanomat that being Finnish is really an okay thing:
Hallamaa also wants to convince us that the emperor has no clothes. That is,
she says that even the “Europeans” we admire so much are no more open-minded or
laid-back than we are. People are steered by tradition and form all over the
world. People in Finland do suffer from anxiety, but so too do other people.
Apparently the French are now going to psychoanalysis like they used to go to
the hairdressers. (“Perussuomalaisuus,” 1993, p. A2) Conclusion It is clear
from the analysis above that the word culture has many different meanings in
public debate.2 However, the different repertoires within which the word is
used are by no means completely detached from one another. I will show that by
reiterating the main results of the analysis and will then extend my discussion
to the broader implications of culturespeak in the European and international
context. One feature of culturespeak is that culture is used as a word that
refers to a national way of life and as a synonym for art or other cultural
products. The former can be seen in the tacit assumption that national culture
is by definition something unique and specific, that one identifies a nation by
its culture. Thus, culturespeak is used to promote a distinct national
identity. Mixed with this meaning of culture is talk where culture actually refers
to certain artifacts, such as works of art. When the word culture is used in
this way, the national particularity emphasis is often played down, because art
and culture are seen as a field of competition. It is assumed that domestic art
and other cultural products should live up to international standards. When
culture is used in this way, there is also the underlying assumption that high
culture and “cultural activities” worthy of state support are instruments that
can improve specific mental or behavioral attributes of the general population
(Bennett, 1992, p. 28). When culture is thought of as a means of popular
education and behavior modification of the general population, we are talking
about a hierarchic conception of culture. Within it, high culture consists of
those products that provide intellectual stimulus to the people, whereas low
culture consists of products that offer no intellectual or educational
inspiration. One distinctive 176 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies •
May 2001 feature of this repertoire of culture is that the worlds of art,
science, and the educational system and its products, such as the people’s
level of education or scientific innovations, are linked together. As a
consequence of this articulation, the argument that says that it is necessary
to support culture is backed up by the economic and industrial arguments that
are used to justify the state’s science and educational system. This
articulation is used because it is rhetorically effective, but to understand
why, we need to discuss the modern category of art as a form of civic, secular
religion. The distinction between arts and mass culture, between low and high
culture, is comparable to the distinction that Durkheim (1965) said is common
to all religions in the world, that is, that between sacred and profane. In
other words, art and high culture products occupy a respected, sacred position
in people’s minds. The main idea behind the modern conception of high culture,
the expectation that cultural products that deserve to be treated as art should
not repeat old forms or conventions but should create something new, does not
need any justification. Instead, the modern category of art lends an
unquestioned and compelling sense of sacredness to the same principle needed also
in other, more practical areas of life. Because of rapid, continuous social
changes brought about by global market economy and technological development
related to it, to survive and find an employment the modern individuals have to
be ready to constantly adjust to changing conditions, to develop themselves,
and to question given truths. Although such an attitude is in the self-interest
of any individual who wants to be successful, it is far from a small
requirement. It is rather typical of humans everywhere that we tend to develop
routinized, “traditional” forms of thought and action and to build a feeling of
continuity and self-identity around them. Therefore, for modern societies to be
successful in instilling a readiness for change to the majority population, it
needs a religious backing (in the Durkheimian sense), and art as a sacred
category provides just that. Therefore, it is also in the interest of
nation-states that try to be competitive in the global market to promote art,
which thus serves as an element of popular education and overall behavior
modification. For politicians, governments, state officials, or the national
elite to effectively justify that more efforts for behavior modification—such
as education, control, and guidance—are needed, one needs to construct and to
keep alive a negative image of (sections of) the general population. As was
illustrated in the editorials analyzed in the previous sections, that can be
done by showing how at least part of the population is uncivilized. The hierarchic
notion of culture that rests on sacredness of art is the key to understanding
how seemingly different repertoires of culturespeak form a totality.
Practically all discussions about culture and cultural policy are colored by
it. However, the Enlightenment project still underlying current public
culturespeak is faced with problems in the present global context, not only in
Finland but in other European countries and throughout the world. The expansion
and deepening of market relations, seen in privatization and dereguAlasuutari •
Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation 177 lation of broadcasting, coupled
with new developments in the area of communication technology, has not only
made nation-state cultural protectionism ineffective or impossible but also has
affected notions of the general public. For instance, state control of
audiovisual production has dwindled very rapidly, and as a consequence there is
now less the state can do to promote high culture or restrict what is regarded
as a harmful content. The markets of cultural products and communication in
general are increasingly based on demand and supply. Countries that used to
strongly subscribe to the idea of high culture as a tool of popular education
are now in a new situation: If producers are to retain even partial control of
the audiovisual production markets, the people involved in cultural production
have to make compromises. The old way of understanding the role of art has to
give way; artists will have to listen to the audience and find out what their
preferences are. Insofar as the Finnish and the European system of state
subsidies for the arts is really going to try and respond to the new consumer-
and citizen-centered situation in cultural production, this might signify a
shift in emphasis in state and European Union subsidies from the traditional
arts of small elites toward audiovisual production aimed at larger audiences.
If this is the case, then the definition of what is good and high quality
production should in one way or another take into account the audience targeted
and reached. So far, as we have seen, support for the arts has been directed
specifically at commercially nonprofitable work (Alasuutari, 1996, pp.
216-244). Already it seems that the more consumer-oriented opinion climate has
been affecting modern art in Finland and elsewhere. For instance, the
long-standing avant-garde canon of modern art music—its serialism—was finally
broken in the early 1990s, and “neotonalists” such as Arvo Pärt and Philip
Glass achieved widespread popular acclaim with their work (something they had
already enjoyed earlier among art music fans). The discussion on the tension
between the serial tradition and neotonality concentrated largely on the
audience’s preferences in relation to the “internal” quality and value criteria
of arts. In the United States, this postmodern turn was compared with the
velvet revolution that knocked the bottom out of state socialism in Eastern
Europe. For instance, The New York Times columnist Michael Beckerman compared
the composers of the serial tradition with Marxists, who described their
supporters as progressive and their opponents as reactionary. In Finland,
contemporary composer Magnus Lindberg said in an interview that he was
“actually quite concerned that Tavener and Pärt are selling so well.” Conductor
Esa-Pekka Salonen had a similar comment on Glass’s music: Glass is absolutely
awful, it has never met any criteria of music. Millions of Glass fans can be
wrong—and they are wrong. He is not a composer we should take seriously,
whereas for instance Steve Reich or Prince are. (“Kolme Näkökulmaa,” 1995, p.
B1) 178 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 Although current
ideological trends have certainly been reflected in the arts scene and brought
some minor changes in style, the system of public support for contemporary art
has in practice remained unchanged throughout the 1990s. Yet, at a more general
plane it could be said that the real weight of cultural policy, that is, of the
system of state control aimed at influencing what people think and how they
spend their time, has lessened compared with the preglobalization period. This
does not mean to say that the debate on cultural policy is dying down or losing
its general interest. Quite the contrary—as direct state control becomes more
and more difficult, the only real option that remains is to try and influence
public opinion. This is what has happened during the 1980s and 1990s with
Finnish alcohol control, for instance. When the alcohol monopoly was first set
up there were an education policy, price policy, control policy, and various
measures to restrict access. Now, all that remains is education (Piispa, 1997).
On the other hand, the new situation also means that issues that were
previously discussed behind closed doors and decided on in central
administration are now out in the open, a matter for public debate. The old
administrative routes for taking action and policy decisions are also blocked;
the main vehicles for influencing people are various civic and consumer
movements that directly lobby private business companies. An example is
provided by the United States, where private operators are a far stronger force
in the electronic media field than public service broadcasters. In the United
States, there are various pressure groups that will try to influence
programming contents by getting program producers to agree on certain rules
with regard to showing sex or violence or the appearance of ethnic minorities.
Understood in the European sense as something rather valuable, if not sacred,
art has served as a symbol of the state-centered and expert-dominated society
and at the same time provided legitimacy for that society. The growing
influence and control of market forces in society means that people will be
able to take an easier attitude toward art and that the whole concept of art as
an antithesis of entertainment or mass culture will be called into question.
However, it is unlikely that the modernist concept of art will die even in the
situation where all public money is withdrawn from cultural events and the
private sector takes over. Instead of nation-states, or at least alongside
nation-states, the arts will be sponsored by companies who will support
products and events to make their name known in audience segments who are
interested in, say, classical music and modern art—and who for many businesses
represent a very interesting prospective customer segment. Due to the
developments related to globalization, the structural position of art and entertainment
has indeed changed. For instance, within the European Union member states have
realized that to maintain or strengthen European cultural production, the
products need to be commercially competitive, that is, Alasuutari • Art,
Entertainment, Culture, and Nation 179 able to attract large audiences. If not,
there is no way to stop an ever bigger inflow of American production. Within
the European Union, it has been clearly realized that the field of cultural
production must be seen as part of European industrial policy rather than a
form of popular education. Yet, the rhetoric by which European cultural
production is politically defended still appeals to the old nationalist and
paternalist framework within which high art has been dealt with. For instance,
when the issue of supporting audiovisual culture in the European Union is
discussed, commentators frequently identify this with supporting the whole
European way of life (Schlesinger, 1997, p. 372). Schlesinger (1997, p. 376)
said that this rather European way of talking about culture as synonymous with
art is closely related to European nationstate thinking. Whereas the notion of
what is distinctively American, for instance, is understood as a
juridico-political image of the community, European nation-states have
traditionally seen citizenship and nationality in terms of cultural similarity
within the nation-state. This is why it is considered necessary to defend the
national production of images; the idea is that if there is no national art,
then the whole nation will cease to exist as well. Apart from the problems
created by mixing Enlightenment ideas of popular education with aims to develop
a field of industry, this nationalist rhetoric creates another kind of problem.
Many European countries, Finland included, have traditionally had a negative
net migration rate: They have been countries from which people have migrated to
the United States. Consequently, the remaining population has remained
relatively homogeneous in terms of the ethnic and religious composition.
However, during the past decades the situation has changed rapidly. For
instance, in Finland the turn of the 1980s and 1990s was a clear turning point
with many more immigrants, especially refugees, entering the country.
Additionally, at the European level the expansion of the European Union means
that the racial, ethnic, and religious heterogeneity of the European Union
citizens is increasing. Yet, the rhetoric used by European Union politicians to
try and create a feeling of solidarity among the citizens of the European Union
repeatedly draws on an ethnocultural dimension that effectively excludes part
of the population. For instance, according to the previous commission president
Jacques Santer, the sources of the European “common cultural heritage—the
heritage of the Western mind and tradition”— are “Greek, Latin and
Judeo-Christian.” Similarly, the European parliament has outlined present-day
European culture as derived from “classical culture and Christianity” (Hansen,
2000, p. 153). This kind of traditional European nationalism is increasingly
impossible in today’s multicultural Europe. It is difficult even at the level
of an individual European nation-state, let alone for the European Union as a
whole. As Schlesinger (1997) pointed out, when the countries of the European
Union say that audiovisual production must be supported for reasons of
preserving the European cultural tradition, they are in fact applying the
nationalist rhetoric in a rather problematic way to refer to a 180 Cultural Studies
↔ Critical Methodologies • May 2001 highly heterogeneous community. This is of
course understandable in view of the European tradition of nationalism, but it
is not very likely that the European Union can succeed in creating a strong
sense of internal cohesion by appealing to a common cultural heritage. As long
as even top politicians and official documents resort to this kind of
ethnocultural rhetoric in their attempts to construct European nationhood, the
racist, right-wing attacks against the immigrants and “cultural others” are
just an extreme continuation of the underlying everyday nationalism. In
Europe—as in many parts of the world—the changing “ethnoscapes” (Appadurai,
1996) call for a rethinking of the seemingly sympathetic and analytically useful
concepts of culture and nation. Notes 1. It is also important to note that
within this framework of romantic nationalism, culture was understood in terms
of cultural products that commanded respect and admiration, whether these were
sleighs, fyke nets, and birch-bark pouches or runes and songs. The products
were detached from their everyday contexts, and traditional rune singers were
made into cultural heroes. 2. Sanna Talja (1998) has identified in the cultural
policy debate several different interpretive repertoires that represent
contradictory and historically different layers. For instance, the use of
contradictory discourses in state documents is explained by the fact that
repertoires are relevant in different ways in different contexts. Traditionally,
the “unified culture” repertoire that defends one national (art) culture is
applied in discourses about services available to citizens or in talk which
falls in the category of “artist policy.” The “anti-commercialist” repertoire
is used to justify support for material which has a low circulation. The
“mosaic culture” repertoire, which stresses the equal diversity of different
cultures in the world, is used to study what sort of cultural interests people
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Cultural Theory of AlcoAlasuutari • Art, Entertainment, Culture, and Nation 183
holism (SUNY Press, 1992), Researching Culture: Qualitative Method and Cultural
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Rethinking the Media Audience (Sage, 1999). 184 Cultural Studies ↔ Critical
Methodologies • May 2001
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