Some questions and contemplations after reading Datuk Ramli Ibrahim’s proposals for the creation of a Malaysian Arts Council, Malay Mail, ‘Fixing arts and culture 2020’, 19th May 2020. Accessed 21st May 2020.
The outbreak of the coronavirus in Malaysia reached severe levels right about the time a coup overthrew (perhaps this is generous, more like feebly but nevertheless winningly jostled aside) the Pakatan Harapan government elected in 2018, so as you can expect, much ire has recently been levelled at the government. In a way, the pandemic has helped to “legitimise” the coup government. In the midst of a pandemic, you can’t very well tell the government to fuck off when your job’s suddenly in question and you’ve still got rent and utilities to pay and, oh yeah, there’s an invisible virus ravaging the city. So we’re seeing more criticisms of the government, and some of the loudest and most prolific of these voices have been those coming out of the arts and cultural sectors.
Most people working and practising in the arts can probably be considered among those SMEs and freelancers whose livelihoods are totally thrown into limbo. Many of them have always been living day to day, sale to sale, without any fat company profits or personal savings to fall back on. Add to that is the burn of being totally overlooked and slighted by the government, after Minister of Tourism, Arts, and Culture Nancy Shukri went on air and tossed off the arts sector like a parent rolling their eyes at a teenager’s bad mood — they’re fine, they’ll get over it. It’s as if the government doesn’t notice us at all! …Which is a bad thing now as we’re ass deep in a global pandemic and capitalist crisis, but desirable otherwise.
This is a terrible time for the individual, and societies all over the globe are handing their lives over to their governments for protection (except for the US where many insist on “protesting” for their individual entitlements). But are we really sure that what we want is increased government involvement with the arts?
Recently, Datuk Ramli Ibrahim of Sutra Foundation published a widely-shared piece on the Malay Mail titled, ‘Fixing arts and culture 2020,’ in which he proposes the establishment of a Malaysian Arts Council, like they have in England. It is a very detailed article, not only calling for the establishment of an Arts Council but also stipulating its conditions and diagnosing current flaws in the way our government funds and organises arts and culture.
One of the issues he diagnoses is a failure to distinguish between ‘serious’ arts and ‘commercial’ arts, assuming that ‘serious’ arts are driven by more genuine “artistic” intentions, while ‘commercial arts’ are created to be crowd-pleasers. Datuk Ramli defines ‘serious’ cultural work as presentations, work, and research that ‘do not measure their success in simplistic KPIs in terms of profits.’ Not to be pedantic, but I’m not sure if the two words are really accurately used here, whether seriousness is totally incompatible with commercial success. It seems like a slippery slope into confusing ‘serious’ (and thus worthwhile?) art with poverty and a deliberate failure to garner mass appeal.
Datuk Ramli enumerates some examples of what he means by ‘serious’ arts and culture.
‘Serious Arts may be driven by non-commercial motives – such as research in indigenous music, exploring new avenues of contemporary expressions, sustainable outreach programs, new original works in music or dance choreography, archival & documentation etc. ‘Serious’ arts practitioners within the fields of our tangible and intangible heritages are engaged in less financial profitable activities but nevertheless contribute towards sustaining the ‘good life’ of the nation.’
Ok, so what he means is arts work that does not produce an end product that is consumable by the general public, or cultural work/exhibitions that are more experimental and unconventional and therefore unlikely to gain a large audience, but are done for the sake of experimentation and testing conventions. That’s an understandable definition and can be gathered under a different designation than ‘seriousness’ (implying that any commercially-driven work is unserious; as if Parasite wasn’t widely considered serious and “radical” while also bagging the Oscars) — but, again, pedantic.
Even though the Arts Council should be funded by the government, Datuk Ramli argues that it should remain ‘autonomous’ so that it avoids turning into (or solidifying their identity as) a propaganda racket for the government. ‘The government should keep an arms-length policy with regard to their dealing with Arts & Culture lest they kill its spirit when they interfere with its creative process.’ This is wise, especially given the many mis-dealings that have happened in the past in our National Art Gallery (Balai Seni Negara). Most recently, the artist Ahmad Fuad Osman suffered four of his works being mysteriously taken down from his survey exhibition, At the End of the Day Even Art is Not Important, as ordered by persons unknown and for reasons unknown. Presumably because they offended Malay-Muslim sensibilities regarding pigs and nudity.
Currently, our art institutions suffer a lack of transparency and accountability to the very art community it is meant to uplift; hence Datuk Ramli accuses these government-funded venues of being ‘dens for iniquities, cronyism, and corruption’. He’s right that herein lies the pitfalls of government involvement with culture but I also wonder who, then, the autonomous Arts Council spending should be accountable to. Forgive me if I’m being overly literal or if I’m missing something. But if governments are created to represent and serve a nation’s people, and culture is being funded by the government, then shouldn’t those funds also be audited for how well it is serving the people? Is it realistic or even desirable to expect the government to give out public money to the cultural sector and then leave artists alone to do their own thing? (What other “autonomous” entities does it currently spend public money on?)
If we follow this logic, that governments should be answerable to the people, then bureaucracies and their requisite paper trails sort of start to make sense. The issue now is more that we have the bureaucracy without the citizen watchdog. Reams and reams of paperwork is filed and reports are duly submitted to higher-ups, but the rakyat doesn’t seem any closer to being involved with or consulted to in the arts. Many government agencies work on behalf of the people, assuming they understand the nation’s needs and desires through online surveys but not by adding them to their boards and panels. Many cultural practitioners perhaps make work with the people in mind, but, let’s be real, many of them already know their audiences.
In the battle between the cultural sector and the government (mostly fought by the former in the form of journalism and media appearances), where does the general masses of the population factor in? And, returning to the ‘serious’ vs ‘commercial’ dichotomy, why are certain cultural practitioners so averse to commercial success?… Unless the answer is that, deep down, they know and live in denial of the fact that their work can only be understood by certain intellectual and educated classes of people.
In each one of us, myself included, there is a (not-so) little narcissist who refuses to be understood by the masses, because mass understanding and appeal erodes the idea of our secret, unique, and transcendent genius. They just don’t get it. Even some of the people whose whole beat is campaigning for the masses or creating art about the masses probably act, even if just a little bit, on the influence of the little narcissist. This isn’t really a rare problem and we’ve learned to live with it; postmodern techno-capitalism has encouraged each of us to nurture this little narcissist our whole life, through rampant competition and obsessive concerns over individual identity. Who am I? What distinguishes me from everyone else? What is my “identity”? Or if we’re curating an Instagram account, What is my aesthetic?
When it comes to arts and culture, the presence of the ego is felt perhaps more keenly than in many other fields, because so much of art is an attempt by artists to sublimate their own egos or to grapple with their own lived experiences. Woody Allen is one artist who manages to pull this off — shamelessly culling material from his own life and inserting himself in nearly everything, but still creating something that is commercially successful and emotionally resonant. Many are not as successful and it sometimes shows!
In a contemporary global art market where names grow larger than their persons and a unique artist identity is nearly as important as the art itself as a curation and selling point, should artists be allowed to get government funding carte blanche? What does it mean by, ‘for the good of the nation’?
Of course, cultural workers and practitioners are citizens of the nation too, but surely there will be an expectation that the impact should reach beyond their communities (although they are very well interlinked within Malaysia) and also include the input and involvement of the non-cultural swathes of the population. Above all, it should arguably erode the distinction between artist and the masses, with the masses just as easily being able to see themselves becoming artists, writers, directors, dancers, actors, Council board members, etc., as well.
In the not-so-distant past, Mao Zedong addressed these same problems in his “Talks at the Yenan Forum on Literature and Art”, where he theorises on what an art for the people should look like. I won’t go into it, but the entire text is worth reading in full, to understand the sacrifices that will be required from artists as well if they truly want to transform culture into something that can serve the broad masses. Personally, I don’t have issues with any artwork that’s created to pander to the sensibilities of a select few. But why should we use public money to fund that?
And a final question: when one’s national culture seems to have always been defined by protests against the government and political conventions, are we really as capable as we think of working with the government? I suspect that those who have always acted independently and deliberately chosen to fly under the radar will continue finding ways to maintain their independence.
Datuk Ramli Ibrahim’s argument is relentless and clearly informed by years of involvement in the industry, enumerating clear demands for a better world for Malaysian arts. One of the major points where I’m in total agreement with him is that arts and culture should be de-linked from tourism. If the arts community had won more battles, I wonder if they would continue asking for the same things. For all my questionings, of course I hope Datuk Ramli’s proposals do gain traction nevertheless and become a serious topic of national debate.
Designer: Revolutionary Committee of Tianjin Industrial Exhibition Hall (天津市工业展览馆革命委员会)
Turn philosophy into a sharp weapon in the hands of the masses
Rang zhexue bian wei qunzhong shoulide jianrui wuqi (让哲学变为群众手里的尖锐武器)
Publisher: Tianjin renmin meishu chubanshe (天津人民美术出版社)
Part of the IISH / Stefan R. Landsberger / Private Collection, chineseposters.net.