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Fortnight Publications Ltd.
Too Little, Too LateAuthor(s): Robert O'ByrneSource: Fortnight, No. 298 (Sep., 1991), pp. 36-37Published by: Fortnight Publications Ltd.Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25553062 .
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Core
question THE APPOINTMENT of two new faces, Chris
Bailey and Una McCarthy, to the helm of
Belfast's main arts centres, the Crescent and
the Old Museum building, is a timely coinci
dence and, hopefully, will encourage a basic
question to be asked at City Hall.
Is it time for Belfast City Council to estab
lish a coherent, long-term, arts policy, and to
recognise the importance of a strong, secure,
infrastructure for community arts?
Belfast is the only city in the UK where the
municipal arts centres are not given 'core
funding' (covering wages, heating and so on)
by the local council. It is also out of line with
other councils in Northern Ireland where, de
spite political divisions, centres for cultural
celebration and expression are clearly valued.
Newry and Mourne Arts Centre, for exam
ple, receives core funding from the town hall;
in Derry the Orchard Gallery has sustained its
impressive record in both community arts and
as an exhibition space on the basis of generous and continuous support from the city council.
And the story is echoed at Flowerfield Arts Centre (Coleraine), Ardhowen Theatre
(Enniskillen), Downpatrick Arts Centre and
Harmony Hill Arts Centre (Lisburn).
From Seattle to Glasgow, the benefits of a
proactive policy towards the arts are widely
recognised. And it is accepted that support must be given, not only to sexy, one-off events,
but to maintenance of a healthy infrastructure.
In Belfast, both the Crescent and the Old
Museum have been a focus for creative en
ergy. And they have made a significant contri
bution towards raising the profile and enhanc
ing the identity of their respective areas.
Belfast City Council did once provide core
funding for the Crescent. This came to an end
in the mid-80s, in the wake of a proposed road
widening scheme?eventually cancelled?
which threatened the centre's future.
Today, the council follows a policy of
'sponsoring' events it believes will reflect
well on City Hall?the Ulster Orchestra and
the Belfast Festival, for instance. Like a lot of
sponsorship, it is short-term. A token gesture towards some sense of moral responsibility, this is a cop-out from establishing a coherent,
long-term policy. The Crescent and the Old Museum are
sponsored in this way. The problem is that the
council has no statutory responsibility to fund
the arts?as it does to maintain standards of
environmental health, for instance.
To be fair, Belfast City Council is stuck with the highest rates in Northern Ireland, and
some massive bills to pay. Its hands, if not
tied, are constrained.
The institutionalised celebration of sweat
ing and grunting in leisure centres costs ?8
million annually to run, while the Parks De
partment consumes some ?11 million?leav
ing only a few hundred thousand for the arts.
H^Hi rf- ^ ;'i;i^H^^^HI^^^^^H f;fl
The leisure centres, once gleaming solutions
to civic tension, are now an uncomfortable
millstone hampering other developments?
they get 20 times more support than the arts.
So who carries the can for core funding? The Arts Council does. The Department of
Education's Capital Programme for the Arts
has facilitated the development of both Bel
fast centres. But the core funding is supported
by the Arts Council through its community arts budget.
This is unique in the UK. The Arts Council is effectively carrying the can for Belfast City
Council. Yet Arts Council money, particu
larly in community arts, is most appropriately and productively spent in programming.
The Crescent and the Old Museum, con
trary to some perceptions, do not overlap with
each other, pointlessly competing over events.
The Crescent, with a lot of small, intimate,
spaces, has pursued a policy of responding to
community needs and nurturing participation. It is now in the middle of an ambitious expan sion programme and there are plans for a cafe,
bookshop, performance space and cinema.
The Old Museum, in contrast, with more
generous spaces, has become a vibrant centre
for alternative and experimental performance
work, and is now the home of a handful of
energetic young companies, including the thea
tre company Tinderbox. In the absence of a
studio space at the Lyric, the Old Museum is
filling an important gap and has hosted a string of impressive productions.
Both centres are entering new chapters, under new directors, and are in good health.
Belfast City Council has a great opportunity to
recognise their importance to the cultural life
of the city and secure their future by providing some committed, long-term, core funding.
It would be money well spent on the arts
infrastructure and, in the absence of a full
time arts officer for the council, a step towards
a positive and coherent policy. It would also
be an act of faith in the youth of Belfast who
prefer to create rather than destroy.
Incidentally, the latest estimate of the cost
of the city council's projected concert hall/
conference centre is some ?30 million. Which,
given the current allocations, would fund the
arts in Belfast for the next 60 years.
Idublin
ci99i:
ROBERT O'BYRNE analyses the latest dust-up over
Dublin 1991 ...
Too little,
too late
IF ANYTHING could be predicted about Dub lin's year as European City of Culture (Fort
night 289), it was that the event would inspire a torrent of criticism from the native popula tion. True to form, the latest noisy wave has
washed over Dublin 1991 's organisers. This time, the denunciations have come
from the newly-appointed cultural committee
of Dublin City Council. Its voluble members
must give heart to the many Cassandras, or
begrudgers as they are properly called, who
have been contentedly decrying the whole oc
casion ever since it was first proposed. Of course, the very idea of a cultural year
allocated to different European cities deserves
an award for bureaucratic silliness. EC direc
tives of this kind should be discredited with a well-aimed raspberry. However, if they are
espoused, then they at least merit generous and
wholehearted support. What Dublin 1991
proves once again is that government assist
ance for cultural activity in the republic comes
too little and too late. Hence the consistent
complaint that the event has been underfunded.
This, together with criticisms of poor pub
licity and exclusion of local communities,
formed the substance of the city councillors'
objections at a special meeting called last month.
The director of Dublin 1991, Lewis Clohessy, has been censured many times before on the
same points, and his responses had an under
standably mechanical ring.
Certainly, the publicity has not always been
good enough, with poor press liaison a consist
ent feature. The organisers claim to have spent
approximately ?250,000 on publicity at home and the same amount abroad. Nonetheless,
many events, such as the Festival of Discovery last spring and the Mayday to Bloomsday thea
tre festival, failed to generate the expected excitement. Claims by some councillors that
the whole year had so far gone unnoticed by
36 SEPTEMBER FORTNIGHT
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Dublin's citizens seem to imply mass illit
eracy, however: it has been very easy to find out
what is happening on a daily basis.
What the year has lacked to date is not a
programme or publicity. The trouble is that
both of these have failed to capture the public attention needed to give Dublin 1991 real im
pact. Absurd comparisons have been made in
favour of the 1988 Millenium celebrations, but
anyone whose memory can stretch back three
years will realise that Dublin 1991 is affected
by a similar series of problems. Both then and
now, for example, the organising body lost
senior personnel in mid-term?if Dublin 1991
has recently seen the resignation of three ex
ecutives, the Millennium changed director half
way through its year.
Similarly, both occasions had to suffer the
criticism of excessive dependence upon an
existing programme of events, bolstered by a
few prestige galas accessible to the wealthy alone. It is hard to see how things could be
otherwise. Should Dublin 1991 have insisted
upon the cancellation of this year's theatre
festival or ignored the Mozart bicentenary, so
that it could shine in solitary splendour? With
out the regular cultural circuit to fall back on,
Dublin 1991 would have been a very small and
not very bright light.
Blaming its organisers for the diminutive
scale of the celebrations is misplaced. The
problem from the start was governmental tardi
ness?in agreeing to accept 1991 for Dublin, in
appointing a body to run the occasion, in allo
cating funds. Programming decisions were
constantly delayed because the scale of the
government's financial contribution was only
finally announced late last autumn.
This had the effect of making Dublin 1991
dependent upon commercial sponsors?who
plan their budgets far in advance and who, for
the right package, are willing to provide gener ous assistance. But small community groups do not attract the attention of large commercial
bodies; the latter are interested in self-promo tion. If Dublin City Council and the govern
ment did not want Dublin 1991 to be a blend of the same hardy annuals and a handful of gala events, they should have provided much more
generous funding at a much earlier date.
In a well argued piece recently, the Irish
Times columnist Fintan O'Toole described
Dublin 1991 as a "nightmarish combination of
half-baked privatisation and bureaucratic iner
tia". Unhappily, the same remark could be
made about almost every aspect of Irish cul
tural life. In this respect, Dublin 1991 is en
tirely typical and, like the criticisms it has
engendered, utterly predictable.
ATH CLIATH
s1991 '
The tall ships proved bigger than any indigenous attraction
... while JAN ASH DOWN says hype stole the Belfast show
Too tall a story
IT'S A LITTLE ironic that in the year of Dublin's cultural excess some eyes should be turning
enviously northwards to the 1991 Best of Belfast celebrations.
No one in the north quite knew what was the logic that lay behind this designation of a year as one for 'a party'. Some thought that it was a slightly naughty attempt to ensure that Dublin did
not get all the attention; others, more cynically, read it as politically motivated and self
congratulatory?if you tell the people of Belfast they are wonderful, and living in a wonderful
place, they might actually start to believe it.
The fact that 1991 was only for Belfast created a problem from the start. It's often levied at
the city?doubtless at Dublin as well?that it gets the major slice of any money going and is thus
able to dominate culturally. Yet so much of the north, and indeed the south, isn't urban at all?
almost immediately there were rumblings from Derry, Newry and Enniskillen.
If these were paralleled in Galway, Waterford and Sligo, at least Dublin could claim precedent. The concept ofthe European city of culture isn't bounded by the city itself: it's intended to embody the wider culture, whether that be a region?as last year with Glasgow?or a nation state. The idea
is that the whole cultural context should be enhanced by having its core city thus designated. In Belfast, however, things were to be more parochial. While large sums were set aside to
provide an expensive commercial 'tone' for the year, the thinking was very much within city limits. Organised by a board composed of civil servants and businessmen, amiably headed by Ivor
Oswald, the planning for Belfast 1991 started well in advance, but with little clear idea as to how
to make this a truly communal event. If the cynics' doubts were to be confounded, some very clear
concepts would have been needed to demonstrate purity of intent.
But alas the same old Belfast patterns emerged and the approach seemed entirely top-down, rather than any true attempt to generate the event from within the community itself. Three sub
committees were formed in a fairly ad hoc manner to look after the financial allocations to
sporting, community, and arts and entertainment projects. The neat divisions themselves are
perhaps revealing of the unthought-out nature ofthe approach. Did anyone consider funding by communal area, say, rather than by category of event?
With public relations and advertising commanding a large and yet larger part of the overall
budget as the year proceeded, cuts in support for arts and community events added fuel to the
critical fire that the Best of Belfast was more hype than reality. The commercial did little to help. While it was clearly good to use the media to raise public awareness, the concept was
disastrously shallow, creating an ad man's happy-happy world of high kicks and jolly songs. In
the light of the last two weeks of August in the north, this image seems more than usually
inappropriate. Had the idea ofthe year been more firmly rooted within the community in the first
place, such large sums spent on publicity would have been obviated.
It's too soon to make final judgments on the year, but it's another unavoidable irony that the
one event which has so far attracted massive community attention was the one that came in on the
wind?in the shape of the tall ships. Anyone who saw them parading sail on the final day will
remember 1991 all right?but its connections with the Best of Belfast are more than tenuous.
It's a pity there couldn't have been more events which excited the community with a sense that
something was happening. After all, it's the involvement ofthe guests that makes a party?or not, as the case may be.
FORTNIGHT SEPTEMBER 37
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