Weak Passages in a Globalized Art World
Possibilities for an Arts Policy for Peripheral Regions in the World of Contemporary Visual Arts

Pascal Gielen

Summary

The world of contemporary fine arts is taking on an increasingly globalized character. In this paper we seek, by means of empirical research, to identify the effects of this phenomenon on the world of visual arts. A two-dimensional model will be developed for mapping out the activities within the global art world in a systematic way. The cultural distinction between development-oriented and product-oriented activities on the one hand, and the social distinction between a low and a high degree of professional networking on the other, plays a central role in this study. Based on this model, the main lines for an artistic policy will then be set out for regions that are not in and of themselves at the centre of the artistic world, like f.e. Belgium, Italy, Finland, Luxembourg or Scotland. In accordance with Actor-Network theory, we refer to these as 'weak passages'. Finally, the model will be applied to a weak passage that has frequently been the subject of our research, that is, in the Flemish region of Belgium.

 

Introduction

The world of contemporary visual arts is taking on an increasingly globalized character, steadily incorporating new regions. With the fall of the Berlin Wall, curators and other decisions-makers hurried to the former Eastern Bloc to scout for talent. More than eight years later, it was Africa's turn, and now China is becoming a significant market. Artistic centres seem to shift rapidly, or at any rate several centres are rising up side by side. This does not necessarily mean that the art world no longer has a centre, but rather that there are many smaller and larger hierarchies appearing in parallel, and which, moreover, are relatively mobile. Processes of rapid hierarchization, de-hierarchization, and re-hierarchization quickly turn every region on earth into a potential player on the contemporary art scene. Who could have predicted, for instance, that the till recently 'insignificant' Spanish city of Bilbao would find itself on the world map with an icon of modern and contemporary art - the Guggenheim Museum?

Politicians, policy-makers and actors within the contemporary art world itself are becoming ever more aware, thanks to such examples, of the fact that often even peripheral zones can in a relatively short time play a role on the worldwide art scene. That is also the case in Flanders(i), where the main source of support for the visual arts from the Flemish authorities - the Initiatief Beeldende Kunsten (Visual Arts Initiative) - raised the question whether this region, which, although at the centre of Europe, is on the periphery of the art world, could not achieve increased significance within a globalized perspective. Based on this line of questioning, the funding body designed a research programme that was carried out in 2002 and 2003 (Gielen and Laermans, 2004).

In what follows, the most important results of this research are outlined. This is done, on the one hand, by means of secondary source material, including sociological studies (Mouline, 2000 and Quémin, 2002), and on the other hand, by our own empirical research, including in-depth interviews with major international stakeholders in the sphere of the visual arts (in Belgium, Germany, Finland, Italy, Portugal, Spain, the Netherlands, the U.K. and the U.S.A.). We first look at the meaning of globalisation and its effects on the contemporary visual arts scene. Drawing on the same research material, and with the help mainly of Actor-Network theory (hereafter ANt) (Law and Hassard, 1999), we next introduce a two-dimensional model that can be used to 'map' out an ideal type of the activities within the art world. Finally, based on these data we make suggestions regarding a potential position for peripheral regions within the world of contemporary visual arts. Our conclusions thus stretch beyond the initial research territory of Flanders. This extension can be justified on the one hand by the relatively abstract nature of the model developed, and on the other by the ongoing follow-up research on the globalisation of contemporary art (Gielen, 2006 and 2007). This investigation examines artistic institutions active on a global scale, such as biennials and museums, including the aforementioned Bilbao Guggenheim. The central question in this follow-up study is whether artistic organisations give a meaning to globalisation and whether (and how) strategic use is made of this globalizing trend. As with the research focusing on Flanders, the follow-up study is based on qualitative material and takes as its starting point the premise of 'grounded theory' (Glaser and Strauss, 1967). Among the most important research sources are the composition of boards of directors and the accounts, catalogues and programme booklets of arts organisations. The analysis and interpretation of these sources is then reinforced by in-depth interviews both with players in the art world and with policy-makers, politicians and sponsors.

 

Globalisation and its effects

The clearest definition of globalisation was formulated by Marshall McLuhan back in 1964, with the well-known metaphor of the 'Global Village'. Under the influence primarily of the rapid spread of electronic mass media throughout the world, the theorist saw the world become increasingly like a village. By this he meant primarily the communication networks that could circulate a single news item around the world as rapidly as a rumour makes the rounds of a local community. If we unravel the significance of this strong metaphor a bit more analytically, one could say that globalisation in essence means the compression of space and time (see, among others, Urry, 2000). Today, for instance, we can travel from Antwerp to London in a little over an hour, and this means we have an entirely different sense of space than our ancestors from, say, the late Middle Ages. Great distances can be bridged ever more rapidly. It is true that already two centuries ago there were world travellers and traders, but the difference is the great speed with which this takes place nowadays. This change gives rise to a sense of 'momentariness' (Urry, 2000). What someone here knows can, in theory, be grasped within a matter of seconds on the other side of the globe. To put it more starkly: an event in a far-off place can allow us and oblige us to change quickly and fundamentally within our familiar surroundings. To give but the most familiar example: the movement of large populations from the Chinese countryside to the cities had and has an immediate effect on the American and European economies. The global network resembles a hyperkinetic nervous system. And that is precisely what differentiates international networks from those of a few centuries ago. Globalisation is largely a matter of speed.

Globalisation also refers, of course, to increasing international contacts, or a global 'networking'. But there is no single monolithic or homogeneous network that links everything with everything else. There is, instead, a meshwork of many networks or sub-networks with at times temporary, at others more durable overlaps. So, for instance, the financial markets of Amsterdam, London, New York, Tokyo, etc., are linked to each other, but that is not true to the same extent of the artistic network. Yet we cannot deny that there is an important interaction between financial and artistic intersections. It is probably no accident that New York is not only a financial but also an artistic centre. But even within specific networks such as that of the art world, we can make distinctions. So it is, for instance, that sub-networks within the art world are primarily of financial importance, while others play more of an intellectual or educational role. Later we will look in greater detail at the art world as such. What is important is that the global meshwork contains several networks within it, and thus also a variety of hierarchies.

 

Mediatization, accumulation and commodification

Rapidly moving global movements give rise to a range of transformations. In the case of the art world, one notices in particular the strongly global mediatization. Thus we see emerging a focus of attention that increasingly seeks novelty (Franck, 1993). Artistic movements that until thirty years ago still lasted some ten to fifteen years are now reduced to trends and exhibition concepts that follow each other in rapid succession. Art production and presentation have, in other words, become 'momentary' (Gielen and Laermans, 2004). It goes without saying, moreover, that the artistic landscape is becoming ever more colourful. In the drive to come up with something new, curators active on an international scale scour all corners of the world in search of new talent. Whether this movement presages a truly symmetrical and polyphonic artistic landscape or else a new western cultural imperialism will not be addressed here (on this issue see, among others, Quémin, 2002). What matters is that through this sort of expansion, we are witnessing a gigantic accumulation of artistic products. Through the constant extension of the global artistic network, there are ever more artists and works of art who are linked up with one of the many sub-networks within this global meshwork. Not only the media, but also this accumulation is responsible for the increase in internal competition within the various artistic fields, and this in turn leads to a flourishing in the profile enjoyed by the arts. Ultimately, what is significant is the word 'product'. Despite the discourse on process-orientation in the 1990s, it is above all the artistic outcome that has taken centre stage. For there has to be something to go see, something to buy. And so, in fact, even the process itself has become an (exhibition) product (Hannula, 1998). Under pressure from the attention system, the art world has indeed been highly commodified.

 

The artist as star

The attention system has, since the end of the 1980s, generated a new type of artist that has appeared alongside other models (Velthuis, 2005). Artists who produce their work with an eye to the demands of the media are focused primarily on mediagenic forms of art that draw attention to themselves and so are easily noticed. This often results in sensational work in which blood, sexuality and religion (or sacrilege) play a central role: recent examples have included sliced-up cows, pornographic photos or mutilated religious images. In this case, being an artist coincides with stardom. The creative person is a public, mediagenic figure who gains recognition not only for his or her work, but also for an eccentric appearance. Although this model of the artist already flourished in the 1980s before the artistic market crash, there are powerful heirs to this system who continue to make their appearance today. One need look only to the British art scene that made its appearance in the mid 1990s as evidence for this observation. But for the record, it should also be pointed out that in addition to the star artist, many other models continue to exist or are emerging. For this mediatization and the star system have always given rise to various counter-reactions within the art world (Gielen, 2004). Moreover, it must be said that a star artist who makes it in the media does not necessarily enjoy due recognition within the art world.

 

De-nationalising artistic trends

Globalisation and worldwide mediatization not only sharpen the eccentric ego - or what the French sociologist of art Nathalie Heinich calls the 'singular' (1991 and 2005) - of the artist, but also leads to a progressive de-nationalisation of the artistic phenomenon. Even if thirty years ago the worldwide artistic rizome-structure was not so widespread, the world of fine arts was always international in nature. Well into the 1970s, there were certain artists and artistic strands that enjoyed a relatively international - or let us say, above all European and American - recognition. The difference with today is, however, that at that time there was still a noticeably national emphasis. Think, for example, of the historical avant-garde movements such as futurism, with its strong basis in Italy (but also later the Arte Povera), surrealism in France or abstract expressionism in the United States. Although these artistic trends did spread out to other countries, at the same time, their national origin was confirmed.

With globalisation, all artistic currents are dissolving, as stated above, and that is increasingly true as regards their national label. Thus in the late 1990s and beginning of the 2000s there was, for instance, a blossoming of the 'New International Style', a sort of conceptual installation art. This had, however, hardly any identifiable national identity. The artists who belonged to it represented a colourful palette of nationalities, and they exhibited in places as diverse as Antwerp, Amsterdam, Basel, Berlin, Biella, New York, Tokyo and Venice. With the disappearance of national artistic currents, the internationally active national artist is perhaps also largely vanishing.

 

Inflation

The de-nationalisation we have described goes hand in hand with another globalizing phenomenon. Globalisation refers, among other things, to increased mobility of people, and therefore also of artists. What is important is that ever more young or even aspiring artists can, even while in school, build an international - or at least a European - network. International artists' residences, training programmes, workshops, etc., such as PS1 in New York, Cittadellarte in Biella, Italy, or the Rijksacademie in Amsterdam, also stimulate an international traffic in artistic talent both large and small. Thus the 'international' loses something of its distinctive aura or - in the words of Pierre Bourdieu - its symbolic credit. A sort of inflation sets in. Research into contemporary dance in the 1980s has shown that at least for Flanders, the foreign repute enjoyed by our artists still played a role in quality assessments and funding decisions by the government (Gielen, 2004). Today's decision-makers proceed much more carefully in this regard. It would, however, be an exaggeration to say that the international dimension is no longer surrounded by an aura of quality; yet it has lost some of its persuasive power. At the very least, the 'international' represents a complex reality for arts decision-makers or talent scouts, with, as we have said, a meshwork of various networks and hierarchies. The task, then, comes down to carefully tracing this development, and in particular to assess artistic quality and take a decision.

 

De-differentiation

Finally, we can point to one more effect of globalisation, namely, the 'dedifferentiation of functional subsystems'. This observation rests on the sociological insight, more precisely that of systems theory, which starts out from the assumption that a society is divided into various systems with a specific social function, such as the economy, politics, law, education, art, etc. (Luhmann, 1995 and 1997). Instead of considering 'functional subsystems', this approach, following in the footsteps of Boltanski and Thévenot, a French sociologist and economist respectively (1991), examines various 'economies of worth'. Why precisely this transformation has taken place is a technical theoretical question and a debate among sociologists that would take us too far afield from the current subject. The core of Boltanski and Thévenot's approach is, within the Weberian tradition, a cultural interpretation that is imbued with a meaning that actors give to their activities. For Luhmann, on the other hand, it is a macrosociological perspective that dominates, whereby he sees various functions within society. For us, however, what matters is that within the economy different values apply than those in politics, law, art, etc. Depending on the economics of worth, anyone who wants to 'make it' also has to take into account other criteria. Just as everyone knows that the economy is mostly about accumulating money. That is something different from accumulating power in the political arena or pronouncing fair judgments within the judicial system. Something that is highly esteemed within the economic or political regime - Boltanski and Thévenot speak of 'grandeur' - may not enjoy the same renown within the artistic sphere. That is why there are artists who live in poverty, something to which the Dutch economist and artist Hans Abbing (2002) has also referred. Quite a number of artists turn away from direct profit-making, and it is precisely for that reason that they enjoy a certain regard in the art world. That is an idea that Bourdieu in fact gave us in the 1970s. What is important is that there are various systems of worth and therefore also diverse hierarchies of values.

Under pressure from globalisation, the boundaries between these systems are now - at least on a meso-level - beginning to 'de-differentiate'. That is not to say that they are disappearing, but rather that it is within and between organisations that the borders are being drawn, renegotiated and redefined. The most well-known example is the fact that the rise of transnational companies or multinationals within the economic sphere has a direct effect on labour policies. Labour relations and the equalisation of profit margins are thus detached from national politics (Hardt and Hegri, 2000). That calls for a new set of translations between the economic and the political systems of worth. Hierarchies of values are thus rearranged, or they can also blend into a new, hybrid regime. Thus, for instance, we are faced nowadays with the rise of the creative industry as a crucible of artistic and economic values. But it is possible for more than two value systems to cut across each other. To return to our first example: think, for instance, of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. Paradoxically, that museum, of American origin, was brought there by a nationalistic political party in order to showcase the Basque identity as distinct from Spain. What is more, today it serves as a draw for many domestic and foreign tourists, but also for high tech firms in a new up and coming Silicon Valley. The art museum was thus built not only in order to exhibit art works in optimal circumstances, but at the same time political and economic considerations were also involved. The striking architecture was intended, moreover, to put Bilbao on the map. Once again, what is paradoxical is that this should have been done by means of an American flagship built by an American-Canadian architect. Identity can thus be imported, and other cultures can also serve to give prominence to one's 'own' culture, provided the appropriate translations are made. That, too, is a paradoxical consequence of the 'blur' of systems of worth fostered by a powerful globalisation.

 

The Art World: a Meshwork

In the previous part, we discussed globalisation and its effects on contemporary fine arts. We briefly noted there that the worldwide art system is in fact a meshwork of countless international sub-networks. A few cities such as New York or London function in that system as universal intersections. Many places are, however, simply mandatory passages for specific events, such as a biennial (Venice, Lyons, Istanbul, etc.) or an art fair (Basel, Madrid, etc.). But there is also a level just below the 'top'. This consists of regions and cities that play in the second, third or fourth league. In short, these are geographical areas or political entities that are situated somewhat on the periphery of the global art system. That is not to say that they have no international connections whatsoever. They may not be the obligatory passages of this artistic meshwork. That is why we have chosen to use the ANt-expression 'weak passages' to designate them. These are regions or cities that for the most part are connected to worldwide artistic happenings, but the connections are not such as to constitute a truly significant point of intersection. Our study leads us to conclude that Flanders is one such region, but there are others. The follow-up study indicates that even the Netherlands is of limited international importance in the art world, and so are Italy, Luxembourg, Austria and Switzerland. We need to nuance this image somewhat, however. Thus, the Basel art fair certainly belongs to the top international level. Along with New York, this show is a key centre for the art trade, but as we have said, it is only a temporary one. The same is true for the Venice Biennale, although not so much in economic terms (although the Biennale certainly is solidly aimed at mass tourism) as at the artistic and intellectual level. Amsterdam and Biella (Italy) at first sight appear rather insignificant within the worldwide art system, but they do have internationally sought-after artists' residences.

 

What can we learn from this brief summary?

First: there are regions or cities in the world that play only a very temporary role as a mandatory passage in the contemporary world of fine arts. Outside of this short period, they are merely peripheral zones. They are thus, as it were, purely transitory passages. What does Venice represent for today's global art world during the time between biennials? This suggestive question indicates that centre and periphery can change rapidly. It also reveals that some cities, such as Berlin, London, New York as well as Tokyo are taking on a more long-term position as significant centres.

Second: the globalized art world is highly differentiated. Thus there are intersections of which the importance is primarily financial in nature (Basel and New York), while others play a role mainly as artistic and intellectual centres (the biennials of Venice, Istanbul, etc.) or that have a crucial 'educational' role (the Rijksacademie in Amsterdam, the Cittadellarte in Biella or PS1 in New York).

Three: in most cases only cities are involved. We are not talking, therefore, of Italy, but of Venice and Biella; not of the Netherlands, but of Amsterdam; not of the United States, but New York, etc. What is more, it is not even about cities as such, but specific museums, galleries, collectors that have rich collections. What is important here is that at this level as well, the national label is disappearing.

 

Mapping the Art World

The next task was to provide a more abstract and relatively clear picture of this meshwork of differentiated networks and sub-networks. For this reason, we set out via empirical research, and primarily through in-depth interviews, to find the coordinates of this contemporary globalized art world. What are the key notions that form the core of current debates and give meaning to artistic activity? A first pair of concepts that we discovered concerned a cultural distinction between two value systems - that are thus based on interpretation and valuation - namely, the opposition between 'development' and 'product', or rather the distinction between a more development-oriented and a more product-oriented set of practices. Development-oriented activity, according to our respondents, follows an investigative approach and is reflexive. Production, by contrast, seeks its finality in showing, and perhaps also in trading, the completed artistic works. Or else, performativity prevails in the latter approach over reflexivity. And yet we cannot regard these binary opposites as exclusive. For (self-)reflexivity or investigation and a visible product can go hand in hand, witness the modernist and above all the conceptual or avant-garde traditions within 20th-century art. Moreover, orientation towards production and towards development can both be present in turns within an artistic career. Yet we did discover a substantial number of practices that are nearly exclusively development-oriented. These do not lead to a tangible, visual, exchangeable... product. But they do deliver, despite their apparent unproductivity, what is doubtless an important contribution to the artistic climate of a region. When we observe the aforementioned global art centres through the binary opposition we have observed, we can already point to the usefulness of the cultural observation grid. For artists' residences such as Cittadellarte and the Rijskacademie are, along with PS1, more development-oriented, while the majority of art fairs such as the one in Basel and the galleries such as those in New York aim primarily at exhibiting and selling completed products. Although biennials such as those of Istanbul and Venice, and museums such as the Bilbao Guggenheim are, as far as we know, not concerned with the sale of art, yet they also put the main emphasis on exhibiting an artistic product.

When we look gradually at the cultural difference between development-orientation and product-orientation, we get a more refined sense of possible activities in the art world. Even a biennial that is in principle 'product-oriented' can nonetheless set up development-oriented activities in order at least to stimulate these. And a gallery owner can also surround his or her product-oriented activities with platforms for development such as debates, publications, etc. The core activity of both the biennial and the gallery remains, of course, primarily product-oriented.

Besides the difference between development and product, a second distinction emerged from our study of the world of fine arts - one that is not cultural but social. This was suggested, moreover, by the literature on globalisation and the theoretical perspective of the study, namely that of ANt. Given the importance this approach attaches to networks and networking, a second differentiation, namely that of the degree of networking, comes to the fore. This has to do with the degree of artistic and social embeddedness, which ensures that a member of the sector can function in more or less optimal circumstances. A good professional network can provide an actor with growth, expansion, 'more and better'. That is the classic career perspective of the (ongoing) growth scenario. More associates, more alliances with recognised artists, with foreign galleries, with internationally active curators, with museums or important art collectors: that is indeed the familiar story, which by the way fits in with Pierre Bourdieu's (1977 and 1992) vision of the art scene. The actor aims for a greater symbolic capital, which over time can be transposed into economic credit. In no sense do we mean to criticise this type of behaviour or the accompanying form of networking. But in the contemporary fine arts, far from all artists opt for a fast-paced, international career.

An appropriate networking can also mean, for our respondents, finding a stimulating artistic or intellectual context, with room for artistic mentoring, the opportunity for meaningful, substantive discussions, etc. An actor who seeks this is not career-oriented, but focuses instead on self-transformation and reflexivity. And that is precisely because the person may have the sense that his or her career as an artist, curator or critic is drying up. Both perspectives, the career-oriented one and what we might call the experimental, demand both a high level and a substantial degree of networking. This last point is important. For the mere number of alliances, possibly including international ones, does not say anything about the suitability of those contacts.

When we cross the cultural and social axes, we come to a two-dimensional space for art that can meaningfully be mapped out.

 

The combination of the two axes give us four zones in which we can easily situate artistic actors and practices. We have designated these with the first four letters of the alphabet (A, B, C, D). But this is not very convenient, and so we have also put an abbreviation in parentheses after each letter to serve as a reminder. The letter D stands for development-oriented and P for product-oriented. To describe the degree of networking, we use alternately lower-case n (n = low degree of networking) and capital N (N = high degree of networking). Zone A is a synonym for a development-oriented practice with little networking (thus Dn). The prototypical actor in this zone is the ('romantic') painter, who meditates at great length in his garret on his potential œuvre. But a local arts academy that has no significant contacts, either artistic or professional, with the international contemporary art sciene also falls within this zone.

This is very different from an open workshop, training programme or residence with an international population such as Cittadellarte, the Rijksacademie or PS1. In these last centres, there are opportunities for interaction with other artists, often with professional visitors from various countries and regions. The exchange of ideas stimulates reflexivity, creates a research-oriented climate and, generally speaking, makes for a greater sense of artistic opportunity. At the same time one can speak of a primary networking, and therefore we have placed these actors in zone B (DN). In zone C the degree of professional networking is low, and emphasis lies on the visible product (hence Pn). Examples include the bulk of today's art tourism projects, which include the Bilbao Guggenheim. For our follow-up study shows that it is difficult for the latter to remain connected with the contemporary professional fine arts world. The institution certainly attracts many foreign visitors, but these are all laypeople when it comes to art, or rather tourists who show greater interest in the building than in the art work exhibited therein. Only the collection ensures that the museum remains networked, and the international networks that cut across the building today are in fact largely economic and political in nature. A high degree of international networking does not, in other words, mean a professional artistic or relevant worldwide position (Gielen, 2007). Institutions such as these and similar ones almost always bring in temporary exhibits of existing artefacts, and tend to play it safe. Therefore they do not immediately arouse the interest of the art connaisseur or professional. Usually there is little or no space for interaction or discussion with artists or critics.

Zone D, finally, is also product-oriented, but with a high degree of networking (thus, PN). Typical examples of such institutions are art fairs such as that of Basel, New York and Madrid. Most of the works exhibited are completed, marketable products. But a professional art fair is also an important meeting place for curators, gallery owners, collectors... A museum or a biennial is first and foremost, as we have said, directed towards exhibiting - rather than selling - but can also function as a meeting place. It is precisely in this regard that the Tate Modern in London differs from the Bilbao Guggenheim to which we have referred several times.

Artistic zones and legitimation

Perhaps - we are being deliberately careful in this regard - the above diagram constitutes the four-leaf clover, the species that the art world keeps alive. Ultimately, it is a question of maintaining a fine balance among the four zones. For zone A (Dn) offers space for private reflection, but also the right to 'retreat' from the sometimes hectic social whirlwind of the art world. This is true, moreover, not only for the artist but also for the curator, the gallery owner, the collector, and even for the public. The latter have the opportunity to delve, in the intimacy of a private space, into a catalogue or an art work. Zone A is for private satisfaction, but also for the necessary reflection that is likewise perfectly justifiable from an artistic point of view. For it would be a sign of a certain degree of 'sociologism' to consider reflexivity to be possible only within a strong socially networked space. Either we must systematically apply the rationale of ANt, adopting the stance that artefacts, such as paintings, books, videos, etc., are also social actors. In this sense zone A is indeed sociable, but the actors are not simply people, as in classical sociology. Zone B (DN), by contrast, starts out from a reflexivity and sense of possibilities that arises from interaction with other subjects. These are, as we have stated, preferably immediately international, a question of being aware of global artistic standards. And yet this second space is important first and foremost for the artistic peer group. The aim is artistic development at a high level, which may not yet be comprehensible, accessible or even desirable for the general public. Most people are not interested in how chocolate is made, but simply enjoy the taste, to borrow a metaphor from the food industry. What counts, however, is that this zone is highly valued mainly within professional artistic circles or the art system, where it enjoys the necessary legitimacy and - as Boltanski and Thévenot put it - can lead to 'grandeur'. In this respect, zone B contrasts primarily with C (Pn). For here the artistic product enjoys top economic, political and media interest. In other words, very different systems of worth are addressed here. Tourism, political representation and mediagenic images or newsworthiness are higher up on the agenda than artistic considerations. But - and we remain very cautious here - perhaps the art world needs this broad, heterogeneous recognition to a certain degree in order to legitimate or at least gain acceptance for its autonomous artistic, experimental and sometimes quite idiosyncratic place within a wider social context. The tourist or layperson who visits an event with great pleasure, the politician who is happy to use the opportunity for electioneering, and the media which talk about the readership and viewing figures are perhaps more likely to tolerate zone A and above all zone B than those that show no artistic interest. But this is only speculation: although it was noted now and then during the in-depth interviews with artistic stakeholders, it has not been verified scientifically through for instance public opinion surveys at major art events or tourist sites. What matters is that in zone C there are different types of artistic legitimation, and thus it is chiefly alternative systems of worth that are addressed. It is precisely in this regard that zone D (PN) differs from the other three. For this zone also enjoys a high artistic value, precisely because public exhibition forms an important part of the appreciation of artistic work, but also because of the construction of the art work itself. For an artistic product that is not viewed cannot truly go through life - at least social life - as an art work. And yet this space does not have a purely artistic legitimacy. It is, instead, a truly heterogeneous zone that addresses economic, political and media systems of worth. Its economic interest lies not so much in mass tourism, but rather in the possible sale of, speculation on and investment in art works. Yet a high-quality museum or arts event that enjoys a high level of artistic appreciation can also awaken appropriate political or media interest.

The important thing is that in our diagram, each zone has certain dominant systems of worth as well as significant legitimations that differ from those of the other zones. Extending the reasoning of ANt further, we may state that the present-day art world needs this heterogeneous recognition, given that according to the 'theory', it is precisely heterogeneous networks that have the greatest chance of survival - providing of course, for the necessary transformations or even transmutations. One thing is certain: where a single zone dominates, there is the danger that artistic dynamism will run aground. Imagine, for instance, that only zone A (Dn) were to survive: in that case, the artistic scene will be reduced to a private event, and perhaps even a purely therapeutic activity. An excess of zone B (DN) will make for much more debate and laboratory work, but without the results (if any) being implemented. A dominance of zone C (Pn) or D (PN) can in turn mean, for instance, that space for experimentation dries up and artistic renewal is absent. Such a situation tends, i