Art at work – imagining a future Australia

In our strange new universe, where much of Australia burns while politicians make excuses for inaction, it’s time to take a hard look at what the arts can do. It’s an issue in the minds of many in the arts and culture sector. Part of the potential role of arts is around bushfire recovery – a much bigger part is around bushfire prevention. Artists have a role to play in designing a different future than what’s on offer and writing the story of a different future. Those social movements that are most powerful are the ones where arts and culture embodies and carries forward the essence of what they stand for. Think of the power of ceremony and ritual in the world – that is ultimately the power of art at work.

I’ve previously written about how artists and those in the arts and culture sector can help make a difference and contribute to building a better Australia for the contemporary world. In our strange new universe, where much of Australia burns while politicians make excuses for inaction, it’s time to take a hard look at what the arts can do. It always looked as though the low-lying Pacific islands would be the canary in the coalmine for climate change, but suddenly in one season, Australia has taken over that role. How to make even more of a contribution than they do already is an issue in the minds of many in the arts and culture sector. Part of the potential role of arts is around bushfire recovery – a much bigger part is around bushfire prevention. I’ve recently looked at some of the ways in which artists have contributed to bushfire recovery after previous bushfires. Now I want to revisit some of my earlier comments about the broader role of art and artists.

‘Part of their potential role is around bushfire recovery – a much bigger part is around bushfire prevention.’

I have been thinking about my earlier comments due to the example of a group of artists who have banded together to produce public artworks about climate change. These works have had a limited life due to urgent reaction by self-appointed conservative censors, but they have retained a much longer after life – like the half life of radioactive material, their energy and danger may linger for much longer.

Enough hot air - surrounding Parliament House Canberra, on the day Parliament re-opened, February 2020

Un American Activities Committee

Reading reviews of the new film about the Hollywood screenwriter, Trumbo, I’ve been reminded of the legendary House UnAmerican Activities Committee, set up to hunt reds under the bed  – especially screenwriters – in the US in the late 1940s and 50s.

Only in America could I imagine something with such a bizarre name. What exactly were ‘unAmerican’ activities – apart from sympathy for a foreign power, did it include picking your nose in public, forgetting Mother’s Day, not eating enough pumpkin pie? 

I can’t quite imagine it in Australia – a House of Representatives UnAustralian Activities Committee. Hmm. We might have our national foibles, including a tendency to be taken in by our political leaders, even while we rail at them, but I can’t quite see it.

This article was originally published elsewhere in my blogosphere and has been revised for this blog.

See also

 

An everyday life worth living – indefinite articles for a clean, clever and creative future
‘My blog “indefinite article” is irreverent writing about contemporary Australian society, popular culture, the creative economy and the digital and online world – life in the trenches and on the beaches of the information age. Over the last ten years I have published 166 articles about creativity and culture on the blog. This is a list of all the articles I have published there, broken down into categories, with a brief summary of each article. They range from the national cultural landscape to popular culture, from artists and arts organisations to cultural institutions, cultural policy and arts funding, the cultural economy and creative industries, First Nations culture, cultural diversity, cities and regions, Australia society, government, Canberra and international issues – the whole range of contemporary Australian creativity and culture’, An everyday life worth living – indefinite articles for a clean, clever and creative future.

How to run down an essential service – adventures in the crazy world of Centrelink 

‘Of late I have been developing a close one-on-many relationship with Centrelink as I fulfill my destiny of sorting out stuff for my elderly relatives. It reminds me of dealing with Australia Post over many years. Everyone at Australia Post used to bend over backwards to help you. The problem was that their systems were so bad that even their own staff couldn’t get them to work. This is what Centrelink is like. In the crazy world of failing public service systems that are being overtaken by reality, the only solution is a work around. The tick the box approach that is being fostered in the new deskilled public service can’t handle complexity. The test of any system – or policy, strategic plan, program – is how well it handles the unexpected, the unforeseen, reality. This looks like failure to me’, How to run down an essential service – adventures in the crazy world of Centrelink.

Diversity underpins the innovation we desperately need
‘I keep writing that cultural diversity is crucial to innovation because where cultures intersect, innovation happens. In a world where change is fast and widespread can anyone afford not to mobilise all they have going for them – to survive, let alone to succeed? Cultural diversity is a big part of that picture’, Diversity underpins the innovation we desperately need.

The power of good policy – historical tax distortions waiting for a fix
‘The heated response to the tax debate around negative gearing debate and capital gains tax shows that if political parties adopt a clear policy, in line with their core values and aligned with popular concerns, then get behind it and explain it, people will respond. For decades negative gearing has been distorting the shape of our cities, our suburbs and our communities. It is an inefficient way to achieve the desired result. These are historical tax distortions waiting for a fix’, The power of good policy – historical tax distortions waiting for a fix.

Venue lockdown – a blunt instrument for a dire problem
‘The issue of venue lockdown to deal with alcohol-fuelled assaults is becoming a major debate. Of course venue owners are concerned and their argument that the policy will affect the hospitality industry may well be valid – but that, by itself, is not enough. It comes down to how effective the approach is at addressing the problem and how badly the hospitality industry is affected. The question is how finely different kinds of venues are distinguished from each other in a strategy to reduce alcohol-related violence. Dealing with it was never going to be simple or easy. However, like all government policy, it’s all too easy to go for the one size fits all approach which might look good but not work’, Venue lockdown – a blunt instrument for a dire problem.

Land of hope

There were times in our past when Australia was seen as the great hope of the world – when it offered a vision of a new democratic life free from the failures of the past and the old world. It seems we have turned from our history, from the bright vision of the nineteenth century and the great nation-building vision of the period after World War 2, with its sense of optimism and fairness, towards something much more pinched and narrow – mean and weak-willed. For such an optimistic nation we seem to have developed a ‘half empty’ rather than ‘half full’ view of the glass – and the world. If we want to live in a land to be proud of, a fair country that truly inherits the best of Australia’s traditions, while consciously abandoning the less desirable ones, we need to change course – otherwise we will have to rebadge Australia not as the land of hope but instead as the land without hope.

There were times in our past when Australia was seen as the great hope of the world – when it offered a vision of a new democratic life free from the failures of the past and the old world.

There were two such times, when Australia had the chance and rose to the occasion. The first was in the 19th Century when it was seen as the land of opportunity unshackled by the limitations of the ageing, ossified, constricted world of Britain and Europe. The second opportunity was in the late 1940s and the 1950s when thousands of migrants flocked here to build a new life after the carnage and devastation of World War 2.

Pine Tier Dam was one of the earliest dams in the vast network of infrastructure in the Central Highlands of Tasmania, setting the scene for its modern equivalent, the National Broadband Network. The parallel network of social, educational and cultural infrastructure was even more important in giving direction for a modern Australia in troubled times.

It seems we have turned from our history, from the bright vision of the nineteenth century and the great nation-building vision of the period after World War 2, with its sense of optimism and fairness, towards something much more pinched and narrow – mean and weak-willed.

A navigator on a Lancaster bomber

Sometimes I think Australia has lost its way. It’s like a ship that has sailed into the vast Pacific Ocean and then lost its bearings. It seems to have turned from the great nation-building vision of the period after World War 2, with its sense of optimism and fairness, towards something much more pinched and narrow. We might look like a go ahead, interesting kind of country, heading calmly into our future, but are we actually two different countries going in opposite directions?

Sometimes I think Australia has lost its way. It’s like a ship that has sailed into the vast Pacific Ocean in search of gaudy treasure, glimpsed the beckoning coast of Asia and then lost its bearings, all its charts blown overboard in squalls and tempests.

A father and his boy, Bronte Park, Tasmania 1950s. Almost, but not quite, the last man standing.

It seems to have turned from the great nation-building vision of the period after World War 2, with its sense of optimism and fairness, towards something much more pinched and narrow – mean and weak-willed.