Is Popular Patronage of the Arts a Luxury of a Rich Populace?

Roppongi, one of metropolitan Tokyo's most cosmopolitan neighborhoods, host an all-night arts event every year.  Museums open through the night, performance artists strut their stuff, and temporary exhibitions pop up all over the plazas and the streets.  Thousands upon thousands crowd into the buildings and alleys, gathering for concerts, little musicals, and displays in otherwise inaccessible hours.  They bring their down jackets to the unusual chilliness of 4am, huddling to witness relatively unknown artists trying to get their five minutes of fame one after the other, battling their sleepiness and fatigue. 

The enthusiasm, to the inexperienced, is rather perplexing.  The majority of the Japanese populace, the author dares to say, does not undertake all-night activities as a matter of routine.  The last trains home at a little past midnight is usually jam-packed, and local watering holes, no matter how vibrant and welcome, empties out before the last trains are due to leave.  A long walk in the wee hours of the day through the city's most dynamic neighborhoods can show a person just how much the city is actually a ghost town in certain hours of the day even if the neon lights remain turned on through the night.

Yet, for art, the general populace chose to make an exception.  And these really are the general populace.  In a 5am concert, there were plenty of people in their 40s and 50s who are clearly squeezing out their last bits of energy before heading back home on the first train in the morning.  These are not people used to all-nighters, and their conservative dress code contrasts beautifully with the young stylish ones stumbling out of the nightclubs after all-night partying.  Yes, those who have not partied or stayed up all night for perhaps decades of their lives have chosen to do so for this one day of the year for the art night.

The fact that so many people are willing to sacrifice so much to see some unknown artists showcase their work says much about the entire Japanese society's attitude toward art.  It is grounded in the firm belief that artists, however trivial they may be, deserves popular support, and it is their continued work that gives modern Japanese culture certain meaning that can be replaced by organized cultural industries producing "cultural products" for mass consumption.  The cultural aspect of the art night is clearly reflected in Roppongi, where art was embedded in its very physical lattice, in his visual and often unpredictable ways.

Contrast the respectable crowds patronizing the unknown in Roppongi with the dire economic situations of artists elsewhere, and it is clear how important popular patronage is for the very survival of art.  The Economist recently ran a story on the economic hardships of Congolese painters, despite the fact Congolese art has become trendy in Western markets of late.  Congolese artists depend on deep-pocketed foreign tourists, not just for purchasing their painting but also even for basic supplies like paint and canvass to create art in the first place.

It is an unfortunate phenomenon that repeats itself too frequently among artist communities in the impoverished parts of the world.  Art is used too exclusively as a source of earning money from foreign tourists, who, as in the Congolese case, hold fixed and stereotypes about what the output should look like.  In their pursuit for foreign money, local artists distance themselves from local subject matters most relevant to the local populace, creating art that is neither interesting nor relevant to local people.  It is no surprise then, that the local populace do not patronize local artists that much even when they do have money.

Perhaps, sadly, flourishing of local art depends on there being a wealthy local populace in the first place.  While most events in Roppongi were free, organizing such an event required enormous amount of resources and coordination.  A dedicated, unpaid staff would have to be recruited and trained, and the local government would have to be talked into providing logistical, security, and cleanup support, more likely than not, at its own expense.  Without massive local attendance and a desire to provide a venue for small-time artists backed by financial resources, the event would not take off at all.

This is not to say that artists in poor countries are destined for a career pandering to foreign audience while struggling to make ends meet.  Art is culture and culture is nationalism.  Nationalists, many of whom have real political interests in holding their respective countries together, have a fundamental stake in promoting art forms that display uniqueness of the local cultures.  Artists, for all their free-spiritedness, need to harness potential financial support of these political nationalists to create art that can be displayed to the local populace.  That would be the first step to get an all-night art event happening in Kinshasa as it does in Roppongi.