May 11, 2003
Todo el mundo es un escenario
The stage is set. In fact, they all are. Now that the sun has come to stay, all of the creative types who were previously hibernating or undergoing a highly successful tour of the Greek Islands have woken up, shaken the dust off their gobos and returned to Barca with a vengeance.
Throughout the city, small wooden platforms with expensive lighting rigs are popping up like tulips before vanishing the next day like OAP mayflys. And the magic word that fuels this creative swarm is 'festival'.
Just this week we've had festivals of poetry and jazz, three (count em) digital video fests, an international comic fest and numerous special dj appearances, concerts, dance spectaculars... and that's just the stuff I've heard about without even looking. It's enough to make you hide under the covers until it all goes away (which should be some time in late September, I'll knock twice on the door and whisper the word 'platypus').
Mixed in between the shows, often disguised as public entertainment in the hope that you might vote without realising it, are the local elections. Like all local elections, they're a hiding to nothing for the incumbent government, and in these post-war days Ansar's PP, if it had any sense, would be looking to have plastic surgery, change its name and move post-haste to Argentina. In Barca in particular, they're on a hiding to nothing. As if recognising the fact, they've chosen a candidate, Alberto Fernandez Diaz, whose campaign photo looks like he's being punched by a midget.
Unless the main national left wing party (the PSOE) gets a sudden sympathetic swing its way, things will be left to current incumbent Joan Clos of the main Catalunya party to move back into his comfy chair. He may have the look of a Specsavers ad on Bond Street but he seems to have been as good (and bad) as any of the alternatives so no-one really seems that bothered.
Certainly it would be quite nice for him (and possibly the only thing that could make the event work) if he's allowed to continue to run his rather woolly brainchild Forum 2004. It's going to be a "Universal forum of cultures" and if you can work out exactly what means, answers on a postcard to Clos's office asap please. In the main it seems to have emerged from two absolute Barcelona truths:
1) the demand for local conference centres is far exceeding the supply (the Forum will be hosted in a very shiny new triangle from the Tate's Turbine Hall Twins Herzog and De Mueron)
2) if you want anything done here on time and without taxpayers moaning, you have to name a year after it.
The second principle stretches back to the late 1800s. As Barca was spreading its wings and a paranoid Madrid finally gave permission for it to expand beyond the old town walls, the self-important local mayor decided that Barca would host a Universal Exhibition in 1888, in a Crystal Palace stylee. Universal meant, of course, only including products and things from Catalunya, but the rest of the universe would be allowed to come and say how great they were.
It also meant that the former Spanish fortress near the centre could be demolished and a big chunk of public money could go towards turning the space into a rather nice park as the main venue for the event. At the top end would be an Arc de Triomf (the triumph, as displayed in its murals, being that it would welcome the world to Barcelona; somewhat inevitably it wasn't finished in time). Meanwhile, the park was filled with silly sculptures, a Modernist-kitsch fountain and a zoo.
Twenty years later, another part of the city needed renovating. The local government was having problems getting support to raise taxes to do anything about it... so came up with an International Exhibition. Why the hell not? After all, it meant that they could squeeze the whole of Catalunya for cash in the name of international standing, and maybe even get some off Madrid as well. Although originally designed for 1917, the showcase eventually took place in 1929 and allowed a grandiose palace housing nothing much in particular (apart from giving the king a place to grab a sandwich when he's in town) to be built on what used to be the Montjuic slums. They also built Poble Espanyol, a Spanish version of the EPCOT centre - an entirely fake village built so that visitors from abroad can 'do' the country with one low entrance fee, opening themselves up to the privilege of rubbing shoulders with other tourists and trying to shoo away the constant buzz of souvenir salesmen. (At night however it turns into a self-contained clubbers playground - very trippy)
As the global sport of kickbacks kicked in, Barcelona applied several times to host the daddy of all city projects, the Olympics. Unfortunately for them, an Olympic committee wary of awarding dictators more legitimacy after the mild embarrassment of 1936 avoided Spain like a shitty stick until he'd popped it. Soon after, they awarded the city the show for 1992 - which meant a much-needed clean-up of the beaches, two new TV antennae, a new stadium for the local football team that's not Barca, a stunning swimming pool that only opens one month a year, and some hideous concrete flats down near the park.
By this point, Barca had long since caught on to the trick. Why wait for the whims of an international committee when you can call each year something special and start applying for grants right away? So now each city calendar comes sponsored by its own self-appointed theme. Last year: the year of Gaudi (translation: the buildings need cleaning and we're not going to pay for it), this year The Year of Design (we need to get art school graduates off social security), next year The Forum (time to expand the city further east and build a new metro stop), and 2005 we already know will be the Year of Gastronomy (exports are down).
People still aren't sure what Forum 2004 will include - or even what it means - and its various committees have been beset by the usual local infighting and political squabbles. At the moment it looks like a talking shop for right-on students and a place for performers to rehearse for Edinburgh. But it's a little early to pass judgement so we shall see if anyone outside Catalunya actually notices it happening. Its biggest achievement so far is to persuade Barcelona FC to carry its logo on their shirt sleeves. The question everyone here's asking is how do they top that?
As finishing dates for everything in town usually creep forward like a slug doing slalom, annual events are also the best way of making sure that things are done when they should be and are actually something like the plans.
It's a win-win situation: the city improves its reputation, the mayor becomes even more popular and everyone - including the midgets - feels good about themselves.
Now if you'll excuse me, there's a sheet I have to hide under. See you next week.
Posted by Andrew Losowsky at May 11, 2003 05:02 PM | TrackBack