Okay, some Vile Commentary on The Glasgow Effect.

An appropriate critical response to The Glasgow Effect might involve waiting until the artist has made or done something concrete, assessing its intentions and commenting on its strategies and success. 

Public discussion has, however, raced ahead. The Glasgow Effect conjured a storm of protest. While I dislike any abuse aimed at the personality of the artist, I remain a pretentious old bore who regards all interpretation as valid. I respect it as opinion that has a right to expression. I'd prefer to read commentary without heavy use of the word 'cunt', though. 

Never let it be said that I refuse to jump onto bandwagons, though. Here comes a selection of my usual obsessions, tangentially connected to The Glasgow Effect.

All art is bourgeois

Throughout history, art has been used by the dominant sections of society to establish its values and culture. In fifth century Athens, tragedies were performed during a state supported festival: the absolute monarchy of France before the revolution staged ballets, and the Soviet Union invested in the development of The Bolshoi and The Kirov. In Artificial Hells, Claire Bishop argues that the conflation of political and artistic language has encouraged a participatory art that supports the state's agenda. Even the gentrification of hip-hop, for all its gangster lean, echoes a very capitalist morality.

I've banged on about this before, but the structure of art funding, because it comes from the state (or philanthropic individuals), supports certain bourgeois values. I'd do further: modern ideas about the function of art, the nature of the artist or genius, having been defined by Diderot, represent bourgeois conceptions and were designed to be used as weapons against feudal understanding of society.

The idea of the bourgeoisie - which Marx regarded as the class who held the means of production - has been confused with a wider 'middle-class', denoting a certain set of financial and cultural interests. It's usually those people who stand to gain from various forms of capitalism. Both doctors and playwrights, who don't actually own the means of production, could be within this group.

The Glasgow Effect offers a flash-point for the resentment of those who feel excluded by the arts. It's not unique.

Community orientated art is bourgeois

The argument that the money would be better spent on social amenities or food-banks has been wheeled out in the recent past against any art that transgresses popular ideas about what art's supposed to do or be. I'm suspicious of it: The Rite of Spring caused a riot (allegedly) because it transgressed, yet has become an icon of contemporary composition and choreography. But I'm equally suspicious of socially useful art. To take an example - free music lessons for children.

I support free music lessons but, beneath any subsidy lies the assumption that 'music soothes the savage beast': performing art reveals a quality in the human that has more value than, say, frying chips. Community art is sometimes about introducing culture to a group, as if they are bereft without it.

To take an example: remember The Choir? When Gareth Malone rolled up in South Oxhey, the programme presented an area that was culturally deprived. Funnily enough, my mother has run a ballet school on the estate since the 1960s. They interviewed her for the show, but her vision of a South Oxhey that had plenty of culture - her school sent a student to The Bolshoi School, something rare and wonderful - did not follow the narrative of how the working classes didn't get art. So they cut it from broadcast.

Nothing exists in isolation

The Glasgow Effect, whether or not it turns out to be amazing or rubbish, is part of a wider issue. If Creative Scotland handed over fifteen grand to a project that everyone loved, the problem would still be: what are the assumptions upon which they decide? With a bit of research, it's probably easy to find half a dozen grants that seem pointless or trivial. Certain art forms - such as comic books - are mostly excluded from consideration.

Every system has faults. As Loki points out, one of the problems with the current art culture is the exclusion of certain voices. The debate around this one piece is unfair if it refuses to challenge the underlying values of funding, or engages with Creative Scotland as if it has no integrity or honour. 

Pointing out Flaws is a Form of Respect

I have been rude about my fellow critics and, most recently, The Scotsman. I don't do it because I hate them, but because my fantasy is a dialogue with them. I probably go too far. 

It's the same thing, I think, with this debate. All the opinions are valid, intriguing and deserve to be heard. The Glasgow Effect is a starting point, perhaps. 

Note: not all art is bourgeois, but I like to say this as a corrective to the idea that art is, in some way, leftist and radical.

Out of Touch

There are two shows currently cutting about in Scotland - Tipping the Velvet (Lyceum) and The Choir (The Citizens) - that make me wonder whether I am really out of touch. Both are them are well performed - in fact, the casts are uniformly excellent - and have moments of theatrical brilliance (in Tipping, it's inevitably the spinning aerial sex scene spectacular, during The Choir, the script suddenly dumps the musical numbers for a series of harsh arguments that won't shame a social realist drama). And both have received critical acclaim (five stars in one case). 

I just can't get on board with either production. It's not just that they don't conform to my ideal of experimental drama - they are, in places, challenging boundaries of form. In my worst temper, I'd say that they represent the worst of theatre: lacking dramatic tension, pandering to the audience with easy stereotypes and a lack of character development that renders the hard work of the actors redundant.

Yet they are popular. I'm out of touch. I don't know what counts as 'good' in Scottish theatre. I am doggy-paddling against the tide. I left both productions wanting more. Is this just a problem of managing expectations?

It's a question of ontologies...

So... what I think is happening here... I'm interested in the idea that every art form has a particular ontology. Roughly, for a post-modernist like me, an ontology is the closest thing to an essence I can imagine.

It's something like 'the way something exists', the qualities it has. It's tough to describe the ontology of an object, so here's a chart that is no help at all.

Bear with me... I'll elaborate on why The Choir and Tipping the Velvet didn't work for me. Hopefully, that will make sense of my opinions, and allow readers to decide why I am wrong.

After that, I'll prove there is no wrong and right, anyway.

Anyway, back to Tipping.

My Problem with Gareth Malone

Ah, to be honest, I have no problem with Gareth Malone: I have never met him. My only experiences of Malone are via his televisual representation, a performance persona that has been constructed through the post-structural relationship of his personality and the media industry. He might be a stand-up guy, witty and intelligent, capable of watching South Park  and Wagner's Ring Cycle and bringing a perspicacious understanding to both events.

My problem, however, goes back to his first appearances.

Malone's first bout of bringing singing to the benighted masses was filmed in South Oxhey. I grew up there (well, technically in the posh part over the railway tracks), and suddenly found myself capable of frightening Glaswegians simply by association.

South Oxhey was imagined by the BBC as a shit-hole that made Stoke look chirpy and the Gorbals seem like The South Bank. Lingering scenes of poverty porn - the precinct where I used to go to have a burger - interviews with locals that made them come off like the extras from Planet of the Apes. I wasn't above mentioning that my family lived there, if I could make one of the staff at Scottish Opera blush and whimper.

Problem is - South Oxhey was tough, but it was far from a cultural wasteland.

During the making of the programme, they interviewed my mother. She's been running a dance school in South Oxhey (where she was brought up) for the best part of fifty years. Alumni include one of the Spice Girls (Mel, I think), Nikki off Big Brother and, more interestingly, the first English student to be admitted to the Bolshoi School in Russia. 

Cultural wastelands don't tend to have ballet schools. So my mother's interview was canned, no doubt for another chat with a choir member gushing over Malone's gift of high art to the chavs.

The problem is not Malone, it's the shit pump. To manufacture the necessary drama, they had to demonise the locality.