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I have worked on hundreds of Australian/Asian cultural exchange projects over the last 25 years, mostly in the visual arts, but also across performing arts and writing exchanges, and remain frustrated that there is so little understanding both in the “West” and also in specific Asian countries of the backstory behind decisions made on the other side of the negotiating table. I am on a continuous voyage of learning, and the insights and light-bulb moments of recognition remain some of the greatest rewards of this area of work.
There remains a superficial response by Western visitors to Asia that as locals wear jeans, drink coffee, and frequently speak English, so they must also think and behave like Westerners. More importantly, I am also aware of the advantages of how using a different cultural position might make for more successful outcomes both with each particular project, and also, in this increasingly global world, for practice in what is (in the West at least) a mono-cultural post-Enlightenment situation.
It can be argued that there are broad cultural differences between the West and non-Western cultures based on different ideas of time and space. Let me elaborate, and start with time. In broad terms, the West has prized the precise measurement of progressive time, and the idea of progress itself, since the Enlightenment, which led into the great age of European colonization. The glory of the Enlightenment and justifiable Western pride in the achievements of scientists, engineers, philosophers, economists, political innovators, musicians, writers and artists, caught the crest of the colonization wave, and landed on the various beaches of these colonial outposts with loud and self-important crashes. Today we are at the end of this colonial period, sorting out the detritus of this landing on the shore, and the need to unpick the power of this Enlightenment certainty.
Progressive time is measurable; it maps a future with only rare reference to the past, looking to a certain outcome at a generally accepted point of a process. For arts managers in the West, this is taken for granted. In other cultures, including Indigenous Australia, other values of time take precedence. Buddhism and Hinduism promote circular time, with time repeating. It references back to the past. Arts practice often reflects this. An example is gamelan music in Indonesia which is based on cycles, building intensity, pulsating as the layers are added. Indigenous Australians look back to their ancestors, from where all reference points come. In Imperial East Asia, time is measured in the repeating eras of each dynasty, starting again with the beginning of a new family’s ascent to the throne. Arts managers in Indigenous Australia and Asian countries know of Western progressive time, and understand the (unthinkingly single-minded) expectations of Western colleagues.
Nevertheless, there are countless examples of projects faltering because the rigid application of Western “time” is either not valued sufficiently or other time values have intruded. There are practical and cultural issues here.
In practice, this means that when a project with a Western colleague is underway and another pressure occurs—such as a religious or family festival for example— the other pressure will often subvert the Western one, and subvert it without the local person informing the Westerner of its importance. The Westerner is left dangling.In practical terms, it means time-lines and forward planning are foreign and less-valued concepts. The measurements of a project’s life, such as time to plan, time to research, time to commit, time to raise funds, and so on, can be set aside—not because of laziness or slackness, but because they are not important. Deadlines can come but there is less focus on their importance, and they can slip by.
It might be useful to think of this with more human values in mind: that this is a much saner way of life, with relational values of the type of engagement being more highly prized than ticking off the measurable (that is, numerical) outcomes. In the West, how often is a project done, those various “measurables” achieved, and then everyone moves on, without reflection, without really investigating whether or not it was worthwhile? In my experience, the joint, cross-cultural projects that took more time to set up, that had so many more cross-cultural issues raised in the process, that took more effort and often more money, were always the ones that people remembered, often for years and with great affection. The people in Asia with whom I worked on those projects are those I turn to today, often many years later, for further engagement—and they always say “yes”. I have argued for many years that government-sponsored “national” cultural events in other countries will be so much more effective if these principles are adopted. However, short-term “Western” time-lines and numbers take over, with little care for ongoing relationships. The outcomes are ticked off, the bureaucrats do one of their usual job-changes, relationships are cut off, the report is submitted and the juggernaut moves on.
The seesaw of valuing the arts—between the Western numerical measurable and the human quality of the experience of maker and audience—might learn from this different, non-Western point of view. More particularly, if Westerners who want to engage in Asia understand this and build their project around such understanding—growing projects over time spent on engagement, projects with various facets that might weave in and out, a series that reflects back, projects based on relationships than can flex rather than hard time-line projects without any human nuance—then they will be much more effective and rewarding.
And the point applies to various cultures within Asia working with each other. While they will be aware of the broader different issues of time, there will be local nuances (especially across belief differences) where understanding of what one’s partner is thinking about this issue, will result in a better outcome. A well-known example of the complex nature of how time is interpreted within Asia is the expectation of punctuality in Japan, unlike in many countries of South East Asia. In Japan, this punctuality is part of the importance of “respect” between people—a part of social, human interchange—rather than punctuality for its own sake.
This article is an edited extract from Arts and Cultural Leadership in Asia edited by Josephine Caust and published by Routledge.