Department of Youth

# 593

Freely adapted from The Graham Children (1742) by William Hogarth

A doctor might tell me I shouldn’t keep looking at the Sydney Morning Herald, as it makes me feel slightly bilious. Nevertheless, it also provides a constant source of inspiration when thinking about the big arts topics of our time – albeit negative inspiration. This week my glance got snagged on a piece entitled ‘The radical plan to finally give Gen Z a voice in Sydney’s museums and galleries’, by the one & only Linda Morris.

“As a university student,” it begins, “NSW Arts Minister John Graham would often attend theatre performances and realise he was the youngest person there.” In one stroke we discover that John Graham has been to university and was such a culture vulture he even attended the odd “theatre performance”. So far, so good, we think. The arts are in safe hands in the state of NSW.

Read on and we learn that “even now… Graham finds himself ‘at the younger end of audience demographics’”, although he coyly doesn’t choose to reveal his age.

There’s no doubt this young man has done well for himself, currently being Special Minister of State and Minister for Roads, the Arts, Music, the Night-time Economy, Jobs and Tourism. Since February this year, he has also been the Minister for Transport – a role that must have kept him busy this week during Sydney’s latest rail meltdown.

Now we find that Graham’s frustrations at being the youngest person in the room, have given rise to some legislative action.

“Under draft legislation before parliament, emerging arts leaders aged between 18 and 28 will be eligible for a guaranteed seat on the board of the Sydney Opera House, Art Gallery of NSW, Powerhouse Museum, Australian Museum, State Library of NSW and Museums of History NSW.”

It seems that under government directive all these institutions will be obliged to find some young person to occupy a seat at the table, with a view to unearthing “next-generation cultural leaders”.

The inevitable question arises whether this is a good or bad thing, or indeed, is of any value whatsoever, aside from making Mr. Graham looking like King of the Kids. “Youth” is one of those things that oldies find intimidating to discuss. Complain about the youth of today and find yourself labelled a boring old fart. Praise the youth of today and risk looking like a pathetic old coot trying to curry favour with the young’uns.

When exactly does anyone stop being “young”? Graham has set an arbitrary cut-off age of 28, but Guy Warren, at the age of 100 was one of the youngest people you’d ever meet. As Oscar Wilde put it, “the tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young.” Presumably this refers to the frustration of still wanting to do many things in life but being stymied by lack of time or physical infirmity. Another interpretation is that most of us never really feel old until some kind of physical issue makes us consider our age. I’ve always believed that when you start to think of yourself as “old”, you may as well give up on life right away. Some people begin thinking this way in their 30s, others – like Guy - never do.

Age is obviously more than a state of mind, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a state of mind. If there’s no clear age when one stops being “young”, when does one start being “old”? We may resist to the bitter end, but there’s a point at which we are indisputably old in the eyes of others, particularly young people. Can you remember being a child and thinking how inconceivably ancient your parents were at the age of about 30?

Are we old at 50? At 60? 70? There’s nothing more ridiculous than some elderly chap thinking he’s speaking seductively to a young woman, who almost certainly sees him as a dear old thing or a dirty old man. Nothing, that is, except an arts bureaucrat who believes more has to be done to capture “the young demographic”.

The Young Demographic is the most overrated, unachievable, ephemeral fantasy of our contemporary cultural institutions. Any museum professional will candidly admit that the majority of visitors, and the overwhelming majority of an institution’s active supporters, are aged 45 and over. By this stage of life, people are settled in their careers, have the kids at school (or almost out of school), have got the mortgage under control, and are open to a little culture. The thrill of going to see bands or hanging around in noisy dance clubs tends to diminish, and more sedate pleasures arise. There’s also a degree of social status and peer group pressure involved, even if you’d prefer to keep hitting the nightclubs.

This is not a controversial opinion, it’s a simple observation. The controversial idea is that there’s a gigantic pool of young people who can be made into eager patrons of our public museums and galleries if only we offer them the right kind of content. The problem is deciding what that content entails. As the decisions are usually made by oldies second-guessing the younger generations, they often get it wrong. John Graham’s solution is to put young people on the boards of trustees, so they can steer their elders in the right direction.

While this may be a good deal for a handful of lucky young people, chosen by some mysterious (Labor Party driven) process, one doubts that Graham’s solution is any kind of solution at all. If young people are uninterested in museums and galleries, it’s not because we’re not putting on enough shows that address their aesthetic preferences, it’s because they’ve generally got something better to do, whether it’s playing or watching sport, or gazing at their mobile phones all day. It’s futile to imagine the arts will ever exert the same siren attraction as sport, especially in this country. It’s also a fact that across the world young people are beginning to believe they can find all the art they want – and much better art – online. They are less and less attracted to forking out $25 to see an exhibition in a crowded room when they can flip through hundreds of images in an hour on a computer screen. The ineluctable aura of the work of art we oldies find so irresistible doesn’t hold the same appeal for millions of young people. The same goes for books, which are becoming a hobby for the interested few rather than a necessity of life. As a lifelong bibliomaniac I admit this with some sadness.

If we look at the composition of boards of trustees in Australian museums and galleries, there are many issues that need to be addressed. Apparently, John Graham is concerned “that arts boards across the country are stacked with too many corporate leaders and patrons without real-time arts experience.” This is perfectly true, and it’s because he and his peers keep appointing these people to trusteeships.

Historically, both Labor and the Coalition have seen trusteeship of major institutions as a reward for business cronies, political mates, party donors, and retired pollies. There has also been room for minor celebrities, the occasional artist or academic, and lately an Indigenous representative. Unlike the United States, where membership on boards is reserved for those who are most willing to provide benefactions, very few Australian trustees feel any obligation to put a hand in their pocket. On the contrary, it’s like getting a free membership of an exclusive club.

The Libs have tended to pack boards with captains of industry, while Labor takes a more community-based approach, but clannishness and nepotism are still major factors. Looking at some boards, it’s as if members have been chosen precisely because of their ignorance and their willingness to agree with all the director’s plans.

It's ever-so-slightly hilarious that John Graham should be concerned about boards being stacked with too many corporate leaders, when he personally reappointed Lang Walker to the board of the Powerhouse even though the property tycoon hadn’t been to a meeting in the previous 18 months, and would die of cancer in the same week his term was extended. One wonders if Mr. Graham considered the “optics” of this appointment.

This is an extreme case, but if I had all week, I could analyse one dubious appointment after another. When a Minister has this kind of form, one can only be sceptical about his plan to appoint 18 to 28-year-olds as trustees. In an ideal world, trustees would be highly qualified individuals with knowledge of the area in which a museum or gallery operates. They would have previous experience of sitting on boards and be able to read financial statements and reports. Most importantly, they would accept responsibility for institutional policies and decisions rather than looking for somewhere to hide when a director messes up, or a hare-brained scheme goes wrong.

It seems unlikely that some 18-year-old prodigy will be able to fulfil these requirements if the grown-ups can’t get it right. Even if the young board member proved more conscientious than anybody else, would he or she be taken seriously? Are the somnolent captains of industry and celebrities going to listen to some juvenile upstart who might want to question their wisdom?

There is such a thing as life experience, and it’s a useful attainment for anybody sitting on an institutional board. One could not expect much from someone who comes straight from school or university. It raises the question of how John Graham will find enough youthful geniuses for all these different boards. I suspect his primary consideration will be to make sure every variety of race, creed and sexual orientation is represented. Merit will be a purely secondary requirement.

We all know a few young people who are super bright, highly talented and motivated. We all like the idea of drawing on the energy of the young, feeling inspired by their positive, can-do outlook on life. But can we ignore the overwhelming majority of young people who don’t fit these templates and will never be lured to the museums and galleries, no matter how many 20-somethings are added to the boards? Do we want bright young people to be ‘mentored’ into becoming the same breed of passive time-servers we find on every board?

Call me a cynic, but when the Minister who appointed a dying Lang Walker to the Powerhouse board starts telling us that boards of cultural institutions need a shake-up, it’s an eyebrow-raising moment. Quite simply, we don’t need the showbiz gesture of adding young people to boards to ensure an institution’s relevance. We need the Minister to appoint conscientious, experienced trustees who will be prepared to question decisions and not simply agree to every dumb thing that comes along. John Graham is not the first public figure who has aspired to be King of the Kids, but he might have figured out by now that the only way to get larger audiences for our cultural institutions is to hold more, and better, exhibitions. This requires money, not simply an injection of youthful energy. It would mean diverting funds from that bottomless pit of meaningless spending known as the Powerhouse, and putting a few dollars where you actually get value for your input – not just the regional and suburban galleries, but institutions such as the MCA and the AGNSW that are open for business and keen to attract visitors.

Restless yoof will find its way to the museums and galleries when and if they feel like it. Rather than tricked-up shows specially designed for young people, institutions should try putting on quality exhibitions that will appeal to interested punters of all ages and demographics. The Minister needs to understand that when you start to obsess about the “young demographic”, you’re already too old to know what you’re talking about.

And so to this week’s art column, which looks at the group exhibition, Within Heaven and Earth, at the Fairfield City Museum & Gallery. While it may not be the height of chic, Fairfield shows it’s capable of hosting a show that ticks a lot of boxes. The ostensible theme is ‘spirituality’, and that’s not the exclusive possession of any group – although some groups, such as politicians, seem to be singularly devoid of this quality.

The film being reviewed is Universal Language, one of the stranger features you’ll see – or most probably won’t see – this year. Nevertheless, if you’ve always craved for a movie set Winnipeg in which everyone speaks Farsi, then hasten to the cinema at once – it may not be a lengthy season. I’m not sure it’s one for the Young Demographic.