(Horti)cultural development

I’ve been thinking ‘green thoughts in a green shade’. Last weekend I had the pleasure of being guest speaker at the conference of the Powys Arts Forum, held in a wonderful hotel, Caer Beris, just outside the small town of Builth Wells. The hotel is a Victorian version of a 17th century half-timbered manor house, and sits in 25 acres of superb grounds—woods, meadows, fast-flowing river. It would be hard to imagine a more sympathetic environment for a cultural conference, and the event was indeed remarkably positive and open, despite the announcement the day before of £60 million of cuts in arts funding in England.

Having driven all the way to Wales, I had decided to take a couple of days’ leave, and Judith and I headed north-west on the Sunday to visit friends who live a few miles south of Conwy. They have been building their own garden for over 30 years now, and it has become a blessed, peaceful haven stuffed full of birds, bees, butterflies, and even squirrels. Added to the Caer Beris effect, I could feel all my concerns just slipping away…

Although not professionally involved, our friends are both very active in the arts, and so on the Monday we all set off to view the newly reopened, and much enlarged, Mostyn Gallery in Llandudno. I have to say it was a rather disappointing experience. The opening show was a survey of current Welsh art, and it was all a bit of a hodge-podge, and too much work struck me either derivative or old hat, or even both. Indeed, the organisers had shot themselves in the foot by also showing the Superflex Group’s extraordinary video ‘Flooded MacDonalds’, which is so witty, so resonant, and so politically acute, that it blew the main exhibition away. Video art can often be a hard sell in a gallery, where visitors may be reluctant to give it the necessary time. But as the water rose, the French fries circulated like shoals of fish, the electrics started to blow, and the framed ‘Employee of the Month’ became submerged, we were all riveted.

No reservations about our next stopping point, the National Trust gardens at Bodnant. These have also been undergoing major refurbishment, and the result is a triumph—an uplifting clarification and reinvention of the original garden plan. And, of course, on a gloriously sunny day, packed with happy visitors.

Equally packed was our last garden, the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh, where we stopped on the way north as I had a meeting at the Scottish Arts Council. Here art and nature came together in some truly inspirational exhibitions, both of botanic art of the past, and of fascinating reinterpretations of the concept by contemporary artists. Let one artist stand for them all—Michael Landy’s beautiful and touching etchings of weeds found growing near his East London studio.

Nobody doubts, of course, the efficacy of being in a natural setting—even if that ‘natural’ setting is actually as artificial as most gardens. There’s even evidence that simply being able to see a natural view from a hospital window can significantly aid recovery times. And there’s ample evidence of the similarly beneficial effects of engagement with the arts. A few years ago the British Medical Journal even suggested transferring 0.5% of the NHS budget to the arts, and hundreds of medical professionals e-mailed their agreement. So why doesn’t that evidence result in better protection for arts funding in these hard times?

A chilling interview on BBC Radio 4’s excellent ‘More or Less’ gave a clue.  David Willetts, Minister for Universities, was being quizzed on whether the new government would make more efforts than its predecessor to base its spending on hard evidence of impact. To paraphrase the Minister, he agreed that evidence was important, but his party had been elected on a manifesto, and if the evidence conflicted with the views or beliefs of the electorate, those views or beliefs would have to take precedence. In other words, it doesn’t matter how much evidence there is of how the arts can save money in health, criminal justice, education, and so on. Provided the [insert tabloid of your choice] thunders about wasting money on the arts, that’s what politicians—of all parties—will bow down to. Ah well, as Voltaire said, il faut cultiver notre jardin.

© Robert Livingston, 2010