Huizinga Lecture 2022

Huizinga lecture 2022 by state secretary Gunay Uslu Translated by Cora Westerink (1965)

Speech | 09-12-2022 Reading Time 25 minutes

This year’s Huizinga Lecture was delivered by State Secretary for Culture and Media Gunay Uslu (OCW). The text she spoke during her performance is an abridged version of the printed lecture, which was published in book form after the performance. The text below corresponds to the text in the booklet.

Culture gives life to our lives
How the Netherlands values culture. From cultural nationalism to corona and beyond (1872-2022 and beyond)

All the speakers in the series of Huizinga lectures from 1972 to the present, I have studied. Only once before has a politician been a guest. And besides being a politician, he was also a writer. When Jorge Semprún delivered his Huizinga Lecture in 1999, he had been former Minister of Culture, of Spain, for several years.

Tonight, the honour is mine. An exceptionally nice request, it felt when I received the invitation. But I am also conflicted. The cultural historian in me would prefer to make a lecture series of the subject I want to discuss with you today: the way we deal with culture in the Netherlands. And then tonight start quietly with the years 1872 to 1900. Next week 3 new decades, and so in a month and a half, working towards 2022: thorough, layered, comparative, from different perspectives, national, international, reflective.

Meanwhile, as a politician, I am also being urged to remember, after all, which one sentence you all remembered from this lecture tomorrow…

That balance is not always easy to find.

It is with this struggle in my mind that I stand here, at this lecture of lectures. A guest in a rich tradition. Of artists. Philosophers. A conductor. Writers. Historians. From Renate Rubinstein to Abram de Swaan and Marlène Dumas. Since 1972, many different luminaries and standouts have entered the stage offered by the Huizinga Lecture. From home and abroad.

This thought has also inspired the way I have structured this lecture.

We are going to look back and forward together. At how the Netherlands has dealt with the arts, with culture, over the past 150 years. We will discover that we have a warped relationship with culture. Our lives are steeped in it, but we nevertheless seem to have trouble acknowledging that. We don’t know our classics enough.

We are reluctant to express pride in our writers, painters, architects, musicians. Too reticent, if you ask me. Too reticent – because it is the arts, in the broad sense of the word, that make our society.

However, we far from always give culture the love it so deserves. In word and deed, in speech and money.

I am going to explore with you how the cultural policies of the past 150 years came about. We will walk through the lives of some of the defining figures in those 150 years. Pioneers who made sure we are where we are today.

I will then take you through what I have learned from that century and a half of cultural policy and tell you what I want to add and why. We will jump in time together. From long ago to now, then back again and also into the future.

So much for route guidance. Let’s begin.

I remember walking into a museum for the first time when I was 8 or 9 years old. The Teylers Museum in Haarlem. When I walked in there as a little girl, the rooms with fossils, instruments, minerals, showcases, drawings and charts made a big impression. I felt a kind of historical thrill for the first time in my life. Thinking back on this with the knowledge I now have, it resembled the sensation Huizinga once so aptly described. As if on the spot you melt for a moment with the past.

I had the same feeling when I visited the excavations of Ephesus. And later also Pergamon and Troy. At the time, I could not put into words the admiration I felt for culture, heritage and history.

Looking back, I think it was in those early years that the seed was planted in me to study cultural history.

Eventually, that first historical sensation with me led to a PhD, on the reception history of the first story of European culture: Homer’s Iliad.

If you ask me what culture is at its core, I say: stories. We can store all kinds of things in our memories AND we can talk. That makes us humans unique. We manage like the best to give stories a place in that memory and we are only too happy to pass them on. Because that connects. Especially as soon as we recognise them. Recognition occurs as soon as we hear or see a few elements again. It is an urgent human need to seek logic, coherence and explanations for how and why things go the way they do.

In this light, it will come as no surprise that Heinrich Schliemann is the 1st pioneer I want to bring up here. Schliemann, 1 of the most famous archaeologists in history. He searched for Troy with the 1st and actually most important story of European culture in hand – the Iliad.

Troy is hugely interesting because everyone has their own way of relating to it. Homer first wrote down the story, and made it immortal. A classic work, in the sense Huizinga gives it: ‘Classic means, what is still read’. [1] And Homer we still read. [2]

The discovery of Troy and the artefacts that were later given such a prominent place in European museums in particular have had a major impact on the way we have dealt with heritage and museums since then. And also on our thinking about history, national identity and archaeology.

Through Schliemann, a classic work has become tangible. What he brought about is hugely exciting and relevant to this day. Schliemann was a wealthy, successful businessman who spoke many languages. But he was not yet in prestigious circles. He did long for prestige and status. The discovery of Troy gave him this.

He started his excavations to Troy in 1869. They were illegal excavations. On the private property of Ottoman farmers. When the Ottoman education minister heard that Schliemann was searching for Troy on Ottoman territory, the state bought the farmers’ private land. From then on, Schliemann had to deal with the Ottoman government.

The conflicts, sentiments, Orientalist ideas, the deployment of scientific and political networks and diplomatic dealings surrounding his excavations are fascinating and I could talk about them for hours. But that is for another time.

For now, what matters most is what happened in 1873 and afterwards. Schliemann found the treasure of Priamus and claimed the discovery of Troy. [3] The world was deeply impressed. Publications and reflections followed. Schliemann gained international fame. And the objects were given a place of honour in Berlin. Something great and defining had undeniably happened. Through the discovery of Troy, Schliemann had been able to prove that Homer’s story really existed. That was a dream of many scientists and explorers at the time.

Meanwhile, the Ottomans were left indignant and empty-handed. But they did not leave it at that. In response to Schliemann’s wiles, strict Ottoman laws on the protection and preservation of classical heritage and archaeological finds emerged in the last quarter of the 19th century. In this sense, Schliemann unwittingly played a role in Turkey’s current heritage policy.

Schliemann’s excavations were part of the broader search for the roots of European culture in the 19th century. The classics, the material and intellectual heritage of antiquity, were seen as the cradle of European civilisation. The classical heritage was at the root of modern Western culture, considered superior, as well as the nations that were part of it. In other words, the study of antiquity meant studying the origins of European civilisation, and hence national identity.

Archaeology and history played an important role in legitimising national identities. Objects from the past would help elevate the nation and express national power and influence. This movement created competition between different countries and their collections of artefacts and artworks. The Netherlands also participated in this competition.

And so the 19th century entered our history books as the century of nationalism, where cultural nationalism went hand in hand with political nationalism and imperialism. [4]

In this cultural nationalism, as mentioned, heritage played an important role. Andre Malraux defined cultural heritage in 1935 as ‘the totality of cultural treasures with the help of which a civilisation renews itself by creating something new’. [5] Heritage is thus not something to be passively received or endured. It requires active creative acts.

Heritage has to be made its own again and again, otherwise it loses its value.

In the Netherlands, the 2nd half of the 19th century saw a growing interest in what was seen as the glorious patriotic past. This led to increased attention to national heritage and its condition. The central government gradually took on a directing role in this process.

Victor de Stuers (1843-1916) played an important role in this. He was indispensable for Dutch cultural policy and our handling of culture. He was 1 of the driving forces behind the establishment of the Rijksmuseum, a truly ‘patriotic museum’, which opened in 1885 and bears his fingerprints. Indeed, his countenance appears in 2 places on the exterior of the Rijksmuseum. De Stuers is the 2nd pioneer to inspire me.

The year Schliemann discovered Troy is the year 1873, which also happens to be the year De Stuers published his pioneering article ‘Holland op zijn smalst’ in De Gids. In it, he argued for a more dominant role of the government in the field of culture. He felt that cultural policy in the Netherlands was flawed.

He drew attention to the neglect of national cultural heritage. He did not like the fact that heirlooms had been sold and were now abroad. According to De Stuers, the Netherlands was the only country in Europe to follow the ‘doctrine of indifference’ and we were unique in our belief that ‘art was not a matter of government’.

As a result, he said, ‘the love and respect for art had all but extinguished itself in most of our governments’. The government had failed to see art as a ‘national interest’ and this had done much harm. De Stuers concluded: art cannot be left to private individuals alone. The government had to use all means to foster a sense of art among the people. And had to take on ‘the artistic education of the nation’. [6]

De Stuers’ plea was clear: art is a state affair. Chefsache (we might now say).

Schliemann & De Stuers. And the era they lived in. Nationalism, pride, heritage, archaeology, the classics… The 2nd half of the 19th century was a defining time for how we deal with the past today.

Before going any further, I need to make an important nuance. When people in the 19th and first half of the 20th century spoke of ‘national culture’, they were referring not only to what was often referred to as ‘the higher expressions of the human spirit’, but also to traditional, supposedly ‘unspoilt’ folk culture (including fairy tales, folk games, proverbs and songs). Together, they would be the expression of national identity. [7]

Alongside, or in opposition to this, from the end of the 19th century, there was a strongly emerging modern popular culture – music, film, cabaret and other forms of ‘mass entertainment’ or ‘amusement’. And with it, the fear of flattening and numbing also knocked on the door. ‘Loss of culture’, in Huizinga’s words. [8]

These kinds of ideas about ‘high’ and ‘low’ culture have never disappeared from the debate since then, and play out regularly even today. This – dynamic – opposition between canonised and popular culture would be worth a lecture in itself. Here, however, I want to focus on issues of cultural policy, or more specifically: the accessibility of the arts, in a broad sense. Broad and general accessibility of arts and culture became increasingly important during the 20th century. And it still is.

In this light, it is time for pioneers numbers 3 and 4 of this evening.

Willem Sandberg and Emanuel Boekman. The museum director and the alderman. I also want to talk about them briefly because of the impact they have had on how we deal with culture. And how we think about cultural policy.

I’ll start with the alderman. Emanuel Boekman (1889-1940), a social democrat at heart, was appointed alderman in Amsterdam in 1931. Alderman for Education and Arts. He was reappointed in 1935. Boekman was always in search of knowledge and obtained his doctorate at the age of 49 with the thesis Overheid en kunst in Nederland. [9]

He defended his thesis on 6 June 1939. A moment when there was more to defend and at stake in Europe. Inspired by Henri Polak, foreman of the Diamond Workers’ Union, who devoted his life to the ‘cultural elevation’ and emancipation of the Jewish proletariat,[10] Boekman argues in his dissertation that art should be accessible to all sections of the population. According to him, government cultural policy should aim to ‘increase interest in art and, where it does not exist, try to generate interest in art’. Boekman believed that cultural policy should have a “pedagogical character”. [11]

In Amsterdam, Boekman advocated a central department for arts affairs. In many ways he tried to make clear how important art is, while at the same time also setting limits.

This is evident, for example, from this quote:

‘The government has only to stimulate, to promote, in an active way: it has to awaken the living forces in society, of artists and those sensitive to art and those in need of art, and make them approach each other. There also lie the limits of its task.’ [12]

In other words: stimulate, create conditions, but do not interfere any further. Not for nothing does Boekman call De Stuers’ article ‘Holland op z’n narrowst’ pioneering and considers it a turning point in cultural policy. [13]

There are plenty of puzzle pieces of what we today consider perfectly logical components of arts and culture policy where Boekman’s thoughts have left traces.

Cultural dissemination, for example, was important to Boekman. So that art became accessible to everyone. Actively attracting visitors to the museum, working on that. Really targeting the public. With press releases, catalogues, lectures and tours. [14]

When talking about the accessibility of culture, by the way, we should not forget Boekman’s Hague counterpart: Hendrik van Gelder. Director of the Haags Gemeentemuseum. He too wanted to bring in as diverse an audience as possible, to let as many different people as possible come into contact with art. Because it’s so good for your development. [15]

As I said: thoughts that are now self-evident to museum professionals and visitors. At the time, Boekman and Van Gelder’s ideas were very innovative.

Back to Amsterdam. Boekman’s ideas and plans were also noticed by Willem Sandberg (1897-1984). Sandberg became curator at the Stedelijk Museum in 1938.

For Sandberg, the museum was an experimental workshop where anything was possible. Especially when he became director in 1945, he almost literally gave artists space.

He let them do their thing. People there responded to what was happening in the world. ‘Transparency’ was a core concept. [16]

Boekman and Sandberg lived in an inauspicious time, the late 1930s, which would end disastrously for Boekman personally. When I think of the conditions they worked in, with the worries they had… I automatically think of what is happening in eastern Europe today.

Of Ukrainian museum directors. Of national politicians with a heart for culture. To local administrators in Lviv, Kyiv, and all those other cities full of cultural wealth and pride.

My thoughts are also with them every time I read what Sandberg was working on in the late 1930s. Because how incredibly much can be lost, in times of war, oppression, and occupation.

A few weeks back, there was an impressive photo report in the newspaper, full of packed artworks in Ukraine’s public space.

I was reminded of Sandberg. Shortly before World War II, he made an effort to secure works of art in our country, to protect them from bombing, among other things. He wrote a plan, still by hand at first, on 12 sheets of paper. Incidentally, he was not the only one thinking about the threat. There was also a national committee discussing what to do with works of art in wartime. But according to Sandberg, all this was not moving fast enough. [17]

In the introduction to his thesis, Boekman also refers to the threat of those times.

I quote:

‘The moment when this book appears is filled with other concerns than those for the promotion of art.’ [18]

Boekman sensed what could come. What also came. It was not just fate for the Netherlands.

On 15 May 1940, the day the Netherlands surrendered to the Germans, he and his wife stepped out of life together. Boekman’s grandchildren, Myra and Claire, he never knew. They were born in New York, seeking answers as to why their grandfather chose his own end.

One of them said that Boekman knew they would come after him. Facing imprisonment, humiliation and murder. At this, they decided to die with dignity. [19]

This story is just 1 of many painful proofs of how art and freedom are actually 2 sides of the same coin.

After the horrors of World War II came reconstruction. It was all hands on deck to get the Netherlands back on its feet. With a focus on economic and financial recovery, of course, but just as much physically. Personally, by restoring health. Or collectively, by repairing our damaged infrastructure.

It is easy to lose sight of art and culture at such a time. During the corona pandemic of recent years, I was sometimes reminded of this. As if we can afford to temporarily make culture an afterthought for a while.

Outspoken figures like De Stuers, Sandberg, Boekman and Van Gelder have largely shaped the way we deal with culture and cultural policy in the Netherlands. However, there is a pioneer who has not yet been mentioned but should not be left out of this list, even though his name has often been misused when it comes to the relationship between culture and government.

Thorbecke.

He is the last pioneer I want to dwell on briefly, before looking ahead with you.

III

Thorbecke was primarily a policy pioneer. In 1862, during a debate in the House of Representatives, Thorbecke made his legendary statement on the relationship between government and art: ‘Art is no business of government’. Different interpretations of that statement have coloured the Dutch debate on cultural policy ever since.

In particular, it is worth briefly reviewing the culture debate in the Lower House on 4 December 1872. The year 1872 is also the year of Thorbecke’s death and Huizinga’s birth. The debate on the government’s attitude towards the arts was fierce and tension between government and opposition was high.

Both conservatives and the young generation of liberals turned against Thorbecke’s aloof ‘laissez-faire policy’. A large majority in the Chamber thought that passivity, ‘cold indifference’ and the ‘materialistic tradition’ in valuing culture should be done with. The government had to show ‘warm interest’ and show and feel ‘by word and action and without ceasing’ that it ‘understands and appreciates the high purpose and usefulness of art, that it sees in it an element of popular civilisation, of popular ennoblement, of popular education; that respects it as a national force’.

There had to be statues of famous painters and attention to the great masters. There was to be a national museum in Amsterdam and a museum of ‘patriotic antiquities’ in The Hague, and the Mauritshuis was to be the museum of painting alone. A commission for ‘aesthetics and archaeology’ was also to be set up. The chamber clearly advocated less separation between government and culture. [20]

Back to Thorbecke, what did he mean by his famous statement?

Although there was much disagreement over the interpretation of his words for a long time, later administrators and researchers conclude that Thorbecke would never have meant by his statement that the government should not promote art, but that he believed that the government should not make substantive judgements on science and art.

In a later debate, Thorbecke himself made it clear that the government should not ignore the arts and even named ways in which the government could support and positively influence the arts. For example, by awarding travel grants to young talents, through concern for education, and collection building and presentation of national art assets.

The latter to “make art known to the public and serve as an example to those who feel the ability to become artists within them”. [21]

Thorbecke also believed that works of art by living artists should be bought, although this should not disrupt the art world. Purchase by the state should be an appreciation of the artist, possibly replacing medals.

According to Victor de Stuers, Thorbecke overlooked something with his statement: meddling in art inevitably amounted to judging art. The building and founding of museums and collection building would not be possible without also judging art, because one had to choose between different art products. [22]

It took almost a century – a century in which the government almost anxiously refrained from an active cultural policy – for this dilemma to be resolved. That solution was sought in the establishment of independent advisory and judgmental institutions like the Council for Culture. This allowed Thorbecke’s statement as one of the main principles of cultural policy to remain intact.

Still, it remains complicated, this relationship between government and art. What appeals to me in this context is a term I came across in Warna Oosterbaan’s work. He identifies among ministers and officials involved in implementing arts policy “a form of permanent reflection. [23]

I will go into this in more detail later. For now, let me briefly take a final look back at Schliemann, De Stuers, Sandberg, Boekman, Van Gelder and Thorbecke’s 6 great sources of inspiration. Incidentally, I am well aware that I am short-changing many people who have been important for cultural policy by not mentioning them. For instance, Hedy d’Ancona.

But back to the 6 sources of inspiration. What did I learn from them?

From Schliemann and De Stuers, I take away: the importance of classics, the appropriation of history, the importance of heritage and historical awareness. Stories make and colour our lives. They prompt us to look for the past, for tangible evidence. It fuels our desire to make something a ‘truth’. It gives basis. At the same time, it is also dangerous: as soon as you start looking for ‘your’ truth, you run the risk of ignoring how someone else lives with the same history. But from a different perspective.

I will remember from Sandberg, Boekman and Van Gelder that art and culture is ultimately about people coming into contact with it. You can have such a fantastically rich history, such priceless, unique collections… but if people don’t come into contact with it, it loses an important part of its value: namely, what happens in someone, as soon as they come into contact with art and culture.

Finally, studying Thorbecke brought me the mantra: do support and promote, do not judge. For me, that means: speaking enthusiastically and committedly about culture, by word and deed, without ceasing, showing and making the value of culture felt, but leaving the judgement of artistic quality to others.

This brings me to the point where I want to tell you what I myself want to add to the sector in the coming years. But before I do that, I want to return to the state of permanent reflection, as I just announced.

That permanent reflection on the government’s role in arts and culture, a noteworthy and meaningful debate, takes place while there are also regular doubts about the importance of arts and culture. And this is where the government itself participates from time to time.

It remains strange that we in our country have to convince each other of this all the time. Convincing that it is right for us to spend money on art and culture in all their shades…!

Permanent reflection on the government’s role in arts and culture is instructive. But let’s stop permanent reflection on the value of investing in culture!

Surely that importance should by now be beyond dispute – and out of bounds. Heritage, art and culture… they make up who we are. But we don’t always seem to realise that. It is only when people are in danger of losing a piece of their heritage, art, use, or tradition, that its importance is seen and felt.

Whether it is a library that is no longer open on Tuesdays from now on, music lessons no longer being offered, or the Vermeer girl being smeared.

Only when it is threatened do we feel it, and take action. When we are in danger of losing, we remember what is important again.

In European countries around us, people frown at the thought that the importance of art is under discussion. There, art and culture are taken for granted in the thinking and speaking of politicians, although, to be honest, that doesn’t always make you happy either, especially when these politicians want to determine its content and direction. Still.

Germany has a president who unblushingly describes culture as the glue of society. [24]

Emmanuel Macron said in the speech after his victory in 2017 that a new chapter in France’s history had begun. In forging a better future, he saw a leading role for education and… culture! [25]

In Estonia, Prime Minister Kaja Kallas called on her compatriots to respect each other, and she does so quietly by quoting an Estonian poet. [26]

Or take someone like Churchill. He thought culture was so important that the nicest words about it are put in his mouth.

He is said to have said during the Second World War, when money intended for culture was in danger of flowing into the war chest: ‘but then what are we fighting for?’

Nice quote, but hard evidence that he said this has never been found. On the other hand, he did say something in the late 1930s that is in line with my argument today.

Churchill said, and I quote:

‘The arts are essential to any complete national life. The State owes it to itself to sustain and encourage them’. [27]

‘Sustain and encourage’ – support and encourage, in other words.

What links all these statements is the conviction that culture is the foundation and cement of any society. And so is ours. We carry it with us, all of us, in head, heart and soul.

Our lives are steeped in culture in all its manifestations and that has an impact on what we feel, think and what we talk about with each other. Only when we reflect more often on what culture does to us and how it enriches our lives will culture get the appreciation it deserves. If we want to move forward as people, and as a society, culture is indispensable.

And we see it everywhere: when society changes, the need for culture, heritage and history increases. Huizinga defined history as “the spiritual form in which a society accounts for its past”. And that spiritual form includes all forms of historical culture: films, books, paintings, music, theatre and many more. In Huizinga’s definition, we see a triangular relationship between society, past and culture.

To quote Joep Leerssen: ‘Culture is what a society makes of the past; the past is what funds the culture of a society.’ So that also means that ‘a society’ is defined, in its scope and coherence, by the shared cultural experience of a common past. If that is missing, we have a loose aggregate of individuals (…) but no ‘society’. [28]

I mentioned Ukraine earlier this evening. A war is currently raging there that is not only killing people now, but also threatening the survival of the legacy of earlier generations of Ukrainians. In the occupied and attacked territories, heritage is also at risk.

As Ukraine struggles and suffers, much is changing in the world. Besides a war in our backyard, the geopolitical shifts taking place, the climate problem, the energy issue, and growing contradictions demand our attention. In more and more countries.

Angela Merkel once said of the big, complex challenges of our time that we can only find the answers if we look at the world through someone else’s eyes. [29]

Let that be exactly what culture is capable of! Putting yourself in another person’s shoes. That connects! And it is precisely this connecting power that these times are crying out for. Connection through art and culture, without excluding groups and individuals, as we have seen too often in the past. Without claims, us-them thinking, or any form of exclusion. Let those times be history.

Because where appropriation excludes others, culture loses its connecting power. And when the connecting power wanes, it becomes harder to keep moving forward. As people, as a society.

Art and culture underpin a society built on freedom and dignity. This is precisely why I consider appreciation of culture indispensable for the preservation and development of a society.

I am guided by that thought during my consultations, working visits, when writing policy papers and during gigs like this one. Everywhere I go. Always with the question: what can I do to let art and culture flourish even more in our country? Apart from appreciation, what else is needed for this in 2022?

Martha Nussbaum said something in this context that still inspires me, ever since her appearance in The Hague some 15 years ago.

I quote:

‘If we do not insist on the crucial importance of the humanities and the arts, they will drop away, because they don’t make money. They only do what is much more precious than that, make a world that is worth living in, people who are able to see other human beings as equals, and nations that are able to overcome fear and suspicion in favour of sympathetic and reasoned debate.’ [30]

‘If we do not insist’ she says. I find that such a powerful word in this context. After translation into Dutch just as much. To insist, as in: to persevere. We must always continue to invest in culture.

The fact that this cabinet is investing an additional 170 million structural extra on top of the existing 1 billion in funding for art and culture is therefore hopeful and justified. What is important, of course, is what happens to this money.

I aspire to the world Nussbaum describes. A world in which people at all levels actually come closer together, do not become distanced from each other.

In times of war and global tensions, that may sound naive to the Realpolitiker. But the opposite is true. Art and culture are what Minister Dijkgraaf always so aptly describes as ‘soft forces’, which continue to seep through everything. Forces that always remain present in society, no matter how great the setback or opposition.

I want to ensure that those soft forces continue to find their way into our country. With that in mind, I have been working on my plans in recent months. Along five lines.

1. Maker
I start with the maker. Without makers, there is no culture. It is therefore time to reward them fairly. As a government, we can set an excellent example in this respect. We do not determine what is made, but we can ensure that it is made. This can be traced back 1:1 to Thorbecke.

That is why schemes have recently been opened especially for starting makers and young people. This helps makers develop, and gives people at a young and later age the chance to develop artistically.

To which I insist, since we live in a time of performance pressure and burnout… that the process of making does not always equate to success. Providing space for talent development also means space for experimentation. For failure. No one knows in advance how an experiment will turn out. That surrender is a lesson for life – which the true artist often masters best. We can all learn something from that!

2. Accessibility
My 2nd line comes from my admiration for Boekman and Sandberg. Accessibility of culture.

Getting more people in touch with the richness of art and culture is important. Because it fascinates, it moves, it inspires. It increases your cultural capital, in Pierre Bourdieu’s words. You start to understand, see, feel more. And the more you know, the broader your view of the world becomes. With Isaiah Berlin in hand, I would even dare to say that it makes you freer – because art and culture open up a world of opportunities and possibilities for you. And then all kinds of studies also show that art and culture are good for our health. Both experiencing and practising. It is simply good for us!

In terms of accessibility, I see a key role for the library. One of the most democratic places there is. People sometimes call the library heaven or the paragon of freedom. It is a place that broadens your horizons. You don’t just borrow books there. Libraries are prime locations where people can culturally awaken and culturally mature. They are places where people grow, learn, practice or just find some silence. Places where you expand your world, by meeting a fellow villager or townsman you did not yet know. Because you hold a book by Annie M.G. Schmidt, Gerard Reve, or Arnon Grunberg in your hands for the first time. Or stories and voices from other continents, and countries and people you feel close to.

But the issue of accessibility extends beyond the library. I also think, for instance, of museums with ‘low-pressure opening hours’, or guided tours for the blind, where feeling is central. Or feeling welcome at the opera, when you were not brought up with it, don’t know the mores and the visitors are different from you. Or simply the physical aspect of accessibility: festivals that can also be visited by wheelchair.

3. Renewal, digitalisation and innovation
Stronger commitment to accessibility literally opens doors. To the familiar, the art and culture we have cherished for years. And to the new. It would be a mistake to forget the new as we get to know our classics better.

Hence my 3rd priority: innovation. It is precisely by responding to the cultural experience and practice of the younger generations that culture takes root in society. ‘We’ of the last century must also have faith in the future. Then we will see a generation that looks at life, and thus at art and culture, in a much less framed way. That is a force to be embraced. So that includes: going digital more and more. And certainly also: knowing what visitors want, anno 2022.

4. Heritage
The counterpart of ‘renewal’ is ‘heritage’ – at least, that is the common mistake! Heritage may ‘sound’ old, but it is alive and kicking. Working with heritage means constantly switching between long ago and now. It is with that understanding that I look at this, my fourth priority.

Monuments, collections, museums, archives, and our intangible heritage show our history and tell who we are and where we come from. I think it is important that everyone can recognise themselves in the cultural heritage that the Netherlands has. And that we have an eye for the many, different stories about our history. For the experience, appreciation or disgust of the moment.

This raises all sorts of complex questions. What does the remodelling of the Netherlands currently under way actually mean for our heritage? Is it in the way? Or is it an anchor for people who see everything around them changing?

Is heritage actually for eternity? Beautiful new objects are added every day… can everything be preserved? On top of that, there are quite a few Dutch people with an ambivalent attitude towards our heritage. On the one hand, there is pride in the ring of canals. You can find key rings or fridge magnets with beautiful images of it in many households. But ‘the ring of canals’, meanwhile, is also a swear word. And the mere thought of contributing to the maintenance of those expensive houses is unpalatable to many.

All the more important to keep talking to each other about how we deal with heritage, and to stay connected.

5. Using creative brainpower to solve social problems
The 5th and final line of thought ties in with my first line of thought on makers. If there is 1 resource in our country that is still insufficiently ‘used’, it is the creative brainpower of our makers. The idea that art and creativity is autonomous and therefore by definition individual or detached from current issues is one of the biggest mistakes you can make when you see talent at work. Every creative person finds inspiration in the world around them.

We must give that creative power, that wealth of ideas, space. We are entering a period in which many Dutch people will discover what that creative power can do for us. It is applicable in so many areas.

I was just talking about rebuilding the Netherlands. Take the construction of residential areas. Particularly topical, the country is crying out for extra housing. You can think of this as a concrete job. Then you pound houses out of the ground in the most practical and cheapest way possible. You can also involve creative makers in the design. Designers will ask: what do you want, what do you think is important, how do we make this yours? With that, it becomes its own. There is recognition. Does a building become a home. Gives a neighbourhood a feeling and identity. Along the cobbles of neighbourhood streets, culture also gets a chance to take root.

This is also how I work on connecting. And so I am standing on the building site with a Cabinet colleague, talking about how to intertwine heritage and the design of neighbourhoods.

But it’s broader than that. I visited Dutch Design Week earlier this year, and saw confirmed once again that artists are also inventors. With ideas about almost everything. We can listen to that even more carefully!

Dear attendees,

One word that has been very important for the cultural sector has only come up once tonight: corona. What a lot has happened and what a drastic time it has been. To speak now only of ‘aftermaths’ would not be correct.

The pandemic made our world smaller for the first time in decades. Less contact, less encounter, less inspiration. We saw how meagre and dull life is without culture.

Culture was only missed when it was no longer there. We must never let that happen again.

I like to quote Prince. Prince would perhaps say… dear culture sector: ‘you need a love that’s gonna last’.

The sector needs outspoken love. By all of us. Because we can treat culture with so much more care and attention.

It’s not even so much that culture needs to become ‘ours again’. No, it is time to make culture more of all of us.

In doing so, let us not allow any subgroup to cordon off ‘culture’ for any reason. Culture cannot be made the exclusive property of those who think they can put their own fence around it. Please: do not exclude, but welcome. After all, culture belongs to everyone.

In the end, we are all in turn moved and touched by that one scene in that film, that one song, that one church tower, that poem, the piece of dike, that one bridge. It is our own. It belongs to all of us. Let this coexist!

And even more than that: let us embrace culture. I started this lecture by noting that in the Netherlands we do have a twisted relationship with art and culture. Even the Netherlands’ own writers, architects, designers and composers are hardly known to most people.

Viewed properly, it is even worse. Art and culture should play a much bigger role in the public domain, even outside the rather strictly defined settings where people gather to enjoy ‘planned’ culture.

Someone who talks a lot about art, quotes a poet or goes to the theatre on a monthly basis is easily considered a snob, not to mention ‘elitist’ and ‘other-worldly’.

Why can’t this be considered normal? Here lies a task, to ourselves. We need to move away from this difficult relationship and embrace the arts, in the broadest sense of the word. Let us acknowledge wholeheartedly that we need culture, that it is within us, that we breathe it and that we cannot (literally) walk a footstep without touching culture. All our senses are constantly participating!

From the paving stones under your shoes to the dialects around you, our lives are steeped in culture, but we are unaware of our sensations…..

And so we are back to Huizinga, the man whose name this lecture bears.

At the beginning of this lecture, I told you how, as a young girl, I walked into Teylers. Into the rooms with fossils, instruments, minerals, showcases, drawings and charts.

In Ephesus, Pergamon and Troy, it was the ruins of ancient civilisations that made an extraordinary impression on me. In both cases, I did not know what I was experiencing. It overwhelmed me.

Thus, we have all known our first moments of cultural awakening. And there are still a lot of people, young and old, waiting for such a moment. Who are waiting, mostly unconsciously, for culture to come and enrich their lives.

So that is my mission now, in this job. Creating the conditions that make other people overwhelmed by culture.

That is what I think and work on every day.

With love. Because art and culture, I say freely after Martha Nussbaum, gives life to our lives.

Thank you.

Notes

[1] Otterspeer, W. (2006). Order and Allegiance. On Johan Huizinga. Publisher De Bezige Bij: Amsterdam, p. 11.

[2] We know little about Homer. His identity, date of birth and place of birth are unclear. There are linguistic indications that he lived somewhere between the 9th and 7th centuries in Smyrna (now Izmir in Turkey) or Chios. But there are also theories that Homer never existed. The story of Troy has an oral origin. It was recited and passed on orally by singers (rapsods) for 4-5 centuries before being recorded in writing. See: Jong, de, J.F. (2012). ‘Homer: poet, poetry and the promise of eternal renown’, in Kelder, J., Uslu, G., Şerifoğlu, Ö.F., (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey. WBooks: Zwolle, pp. 13-16, 13.

[3] It would later turn out that Priamus’ treasure was not from the time of Homeric Troy after all. This would be corrected. The Troy site on the west coast of the Asian part of Turkey, on the Dardanelles, is an archaeological maze. The remains cover a period of more than 4,000 years. Troy consists not of one city, but of more than 10 layers one above the other, each from a different consecutive period from about 2920 BC to the 14th century AD. And so Troy has a long history of habitation. It is difficult to definitively determine which layer is connected to literary Troy, but archaeologists assume that Homeric Troy existed around the 13th/12th century BC. Layer VIIa is believed to be Homer’s Troy. See: Vineyards, van, G.J. (2012). ‘The Archaeology of Troy in Prehistory’, in: Kelder, Uslu, Şerifoğlu (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey, pp. 23-29; Rigter, W. and Wijngaarden, van, G.J. (2012). ‘Troy VI and VIIA in the Late Bronze Age’, in: Kelder, Uslu and Şerifoğlu (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey, pp. 32-35.

[4] For the reception history of Homer, the discovery of Troy and the role and significance of classics and archaeology in 19th century Europe see, among others: Boer, den, P. (2012). ‘Homer and Troy: From European to Disputable Lieux de Mémoire’, in: Kelder, Uslu, Şerifoğlu (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey, pp. 112-118; Boer, den, P. (2005). Homer in Modern Europe, Pharos. Journal of the Netherlands Institute in Athens, XII, (2005), pp. 43-67; Boer, den, P. (2007). Homer in Modern Europe, European Review, 15/2 (2007), pp. 171-185; Uslu, G. (2015). Homer, Troy and the Turks. Heritage and Identity in the late Ottoman Empire 1870-1915. Amsterdam University Press: Amsterdam; Lowenthal, D. (1996). Possessed by the Past. The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History. Free Press: London-New York; Stoneman, R. (1987). Land of Lost Gods. The Search for Classical Greece. Hutchinson: London; Hoijtink, M.H.E. (2012). Exihbiting the Past. Caspar Reuvens and the Museums of Antiquities in Europe, 1800-1840. Brepols Publishers: Turnhout; Laarse, van der, R. (2005). Possessed of the past. Heritage, Identity and Musealisation. The Spinhuis: Amsterdam.

[5] Laarse, van der, R. (2005). ‘Heritage and the construction of the past’, in: Van der Laarse (2005), p. 11.

[6] Pots, R. (2000). Culture, kings and Democrats. Government & Culture in the Netherlands. SUN: Nijmegen, p. 119; Oosterbaan Martinius, W. (1990). Beauty, welfare, quality. Arts policy and accountability 1945. Gary Schwartz/SDU: The Hague, pp. 44-46. Original publication de Stuers: Stuers, de, V.E.L. (1873). ‘Holland at its narrowest’, in: De Gids, 37 (1873) part 3, pp. 320-403.

[7] For further exploration of popular culture in relation to Dutch national identity see: Dekker, T., Roodenburg, H.W., Rooijakkers, G.W.J. (ed.) (2000). Folk culture. An introduction to Dutch ethnology. SUN/Meertens Institute: Nijmegen.

[8] Du Pree, C. (2016). Johan Huizinga and the possessed world. ISVW Publishers: Leusden, pp. 102-103.

[9] Borrie, G.W.B. (1983). ‘Emanuel Boekman (1889-1940)’, in Biographical Dictionary of the Netherlands: resources.huygens.knaw.nl/bwn1880-2000/lemmata/bwn4/boekman; Jansen, T. and Rogier, J. (1983). Art policy in Amsterdam 1920-1940. Dr E. Boekman and socialist municipal politics. Socialist Publishing: Nijmegen.

[10] Bloemgarten, S. (1993). Henri Polak. Social democrat, 1868-1943. SDU Publishers: Amsterdam; Vree, van, F. (2002). ‘Polak, Henri (1868-1943)’ in Biographical Dictionary of the Netherlands: resources.huygens.knaw.nl/bwn1880-2000/lemmata/bwn5/polak_h

[11] Boekman, E. (1939). Government and Art in the Netherlands. Uitgeverij Van Gennep BV: Amsterdam, p. 187; Oosterbaan (1990), p. 47.

[12] Boekman (1939), p. 214.

[13] Boekman (1939), p. 69; Oosterbaan (1990), p. 44.

[14] Rorink, P. (1990) ‘Sandberg, between Stedelijk and city hall’, in Art and policy in the Netherlands 4, Boekman Foundation/Van Gennep: Amsterdam, p. 141.

[15] Elshout, D. (2015). The modern museum world in the Netherlands: social dynamics in policy, heritage, market, science and media. University of Amsterdam: Amsterdam, pp. 87-91.

[16] For further exploration of Sandberg’s policy see: Rorink (1990); Arian, M. (2010). Searching and tearing, the young Sandberg, e-book. Johannes van Kessel Publishing: Huizen.

[17] Arian (2010), chapter 33, pp. 18-22.

[18] Boekman (1939), p. 10, refers to Kalf, J. (1938). Protection of Artworks against War Hazards. Algemeene Landsdrukkerij: The Hague.

[19] See: https://www.boekman.nl/actualiteit/verslagen/het-tragische-einde-van-emanuel-boekman/

[20] Statements quoted include those of delegates W.J. Geertsema, E.H. ‘s Jacobs and S. van Houten: Pots (2000), pp. 89-92.

[21] Pots (2000), p. 89.

[22] Oosterbaan (1990), p. 87.

[23] Oosterbaan (1990), p. 34.

[24] https://www.dw.com/en/german-president-frank-walter-steinmeier-and-the-culture-scene/a-60743696

[25] https://www.nieuwsblad.be/cnt/dmf20170507_02870190

[26] https://www.trouw.nl/nieuws/vrouwelijke-leiders-spreken-niet-over-ik-maar-over-ons~bb0d5732/

[27] https://winstonchurchill.hillsdale.edu/the-arts-what-are-we-fighting-for/

[28] Leerssen, J. (2015). Mirror Palace Europe. European culture as myth and image. Van Tilt: Nijmegen, pp. 173-175.

[29] https://www.trouw.nl/nieuws/vrouwelijke-leiders-spreken-niet-over-ik-maar-over-ons~bb0d5732/

[30] Nussbaum, M. (2006), Education for Democratic Citizenship, delivered on 9 March 2006, p. 15.

Literature

Books and articles

Arian, M. (2010). Search and tear, the young Sandberg, e-book. Johannes van Kessel Publishing: Huizen.

Bloemgarten, S. (1993). Henri Polak. Social democrat, 1868-1943. SDU Publishers: Amsterdam.

Boekman, E. (1939). Government and Art in the Netherlands. Uitgeverij Van Gennep BV: Amsterdam.

Boer, den, P. (2012). ‘Homer and Troy: From European to Disputable Lieux de Mémoire’, in: Kelder, J., Uslu, G., Şerifoğlu, O.F. (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey. WBooks: Zwolle.

Boer, den, P. (2005). Homer in Modern Europe, Pharos. Journal of the Netherlands Institute in Athens, XII, (2005) 43-67.

Boer, den, P. (2007). Homer in Modern Europe, European Review, 15/2 (2007) 171-185.

Borrie, G.W.B. (1983). ‘Emanuel Boekman (1889-1940)’, in Biographical Dictionary of the Netherlands: resources.huygens.knaw.nl/bwn1880-2000/lemmata/bwn4/boekman

Dekker, T., Roodenburg, H.W., Rooijakkers, G.W.J. (ed.) (2000). Folk culture. An introduction to Dutch ethnology. SUN/Meertens Institute: Nijmegen.

Du Pree, C. (2016). Johan Huizinga and the possessed world. ISVW Publishers: Leusden.

Elshout, D. (2015). The modern museum world in the Netherlands: social dynamics in policy, heritage, market, science and media. University of Amsterdam: Amsterdam.

Hoijtink, M.H.E. (2012). Exihbiting the Past. Caspar Reuvens and the Museums of Antiquities in Europe, 1800-1840. Brepols Publishers: Turnhout.

Jansen, T. and Rogier, J. (1983). Art policy in Amsterdam 1920-1940. Dr E. Boekman and socialist municipal politics. Socialist Publishing: Nijmegen.

Jong, de, J.F. (2012). ‘Homer: poet, poetry and the promise of eternal renown’, in: Kelder, J., Uslu, G., Şerifoğlu, O.F. (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey. WBooks: Zwolle.

Laarse, van der, R. (2005). ‘Heritage and the construction of the past’, in: Rob van der Laarse (ed.) Possessed of the past. Heritage, Identity and Musealisation. The Spinhuis: Amsterdam.

Leerssen, J. (2015). Mirror Palace Europe. European culture as myth and imagery. Van Tilt: Nijmegen.

Lowenthal, D. (1996). Possessed by the Past. The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History. Free Press: London-New York.

Nussbaum, M. (2006), Education for Democratic Citizenship, delivered on 9 March 2006.

Oosterbaan Martinius, W. (1990). Beauty, well-being, quality. Arts policy and accountability 1945. Gary Schwartz/SDU: The Hague.

Otterspeer, W. (2006). Order and Fidelity. On Johan Huizinga. Publisher De Bezige Bij: Amsterdam.

Pots, R. (2000). Culture, kings and Democrats. Government & Culture in the Netherlands. SUN: Nijmegen.

Rigter, W. and Wijngaarden, van, G.J. (2012). Troy VI and VIIA in the Late Bronze Age, in: Kelder, J., Uslu, G., Şerifoğlu, O.F. (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey. WBooks: Zwolle.

Rorink, P. (1990) ‘Sandberg, between Stedelijk and city hall’, in Art and policy in the Netherlands 4, Boekman Foundation/Van Gennep: Amsterdam.

Stuers, de, V.E.L. (1873). ‘Holland at its narrowest’, in: De Gids, 37 (1873) part 3.

Stoneman, R. (1987). Land of Lost Gods. The Search for Classical Greece. Hutchinson: London.

Uslu, G. (2015). Homer, Troy and the Turks. Heritage and Identity in the late Ottoman Empire 1870-1915. Amsterdam University Press: Amsterdam.

Vree, van, F. (2002). ‘Polak, Henri (1868-1943)’ in Biographical Dictionary of the Netherlands: resources.huygens.knaw.nl/bwn1880-2000/lemmata/bwn5/polak_h

Wijngaarden, van, G.J. (2012). ‘The Archaeology of Troy in Prehistory’, in: Kelder, J., Uslu, G., Şerifoğlu, O.F. (eds.), Troy. City, Homer and Turkey. WBooks: Zwolle, the Netherlands.

Websites