Michael Moynihan: What's the definition of culture when it comes to a crumbling city?

A definition is a worrying sign, then. Any time I think about using one to kick things off I feel bad, but then I remember that feeding a column makes monsters of us all. One of the greatest columnists ever, Jimmy Breslin, once wrote about a friend’s relationship, and when the friend complained that the relationship, you know, was off lim—

“I needed it,” said Breslin, and that was that.

Well, definitions. I needed it.

Tomorrow night is Culture Night all over Ireland, which means many cultural venues — and some venues which are anything but — will be open to the public.

This is a great initiative. That’s not at issue. The sheer number of events means that one of the lazier complaints about artistic events — catering for an elite rather than serving the masses — can hardly be levelled here.

The general definition of culture works perfectly in this case — the arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively. These manifestations will be on show everywhere you turn tomorrow evening, and in Cork alone, you will have your choice.

Waterstones to hear Conal Creedon, Grainne Murphy, and Gerry Murphy read, maybe? Or later in the evening you can tip away down the quay to take in the Rogu Firestorm show in the Marina Market. Or try the Culture Buses provided by Bus Éireann, which leaves City Hall approximately every 20 minutes from 7pm. There’s no shortage of events. No shortage of culture.

There’s no shortage of something else when it comes to culture — definitions of what culture exactly is. No wonder the critic Raymond Williams regarded it as “one of the two or three most complicated words in the English language”.

Take another explanation of the word if you don’t believe me: the ideas, customs, and social behaviour of a particular people or society. Again, Williams was there before us: “Culture is ordinary: that is the first fact. Every human society has its own shape, its own purposes, its own meanings ... We use the word culture in these two senses: to mean a whole way of life — the common meanings; to mean the arts and learning — the special processes of discovery and creative effort.”

Taking culture to denote “a whole way of life” takes on a whole other meaning given the event due to take place in Cork the day after Culture Night: Car Free Day.

As reported in these pages by Imasha Costa, “Cork City will be going car free on Saturday as members of the public are being encouraged to travel into the city either on foot, bicycle or use public transport.

“The city's first 'Car Free Day' will see the closure of Patrick Street, North Main Street, Cornmarket Street, Castle Street, and Adelaide Street this Saturday from noon until 6.30pm. It is a once-off event.”

So far so good. Then comes the fine print: “However, the quays will remain open to traffic as normal and buses and taxis will still be able to access the closed streets as normal.”

Well, One Small Specific Quarter Of The City Car Free For A Few Hours doesn’t have the same ring to it.

To be fair, it’s a beginning. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and all that. Add another street or two every month or so and in time there’ll be another Specific Quarter Of etc., etc.

But it tells you something interesting about another culture that’s prevalent here, one that has little enough to to with poetry or cabaret: car culture. Even a token gesture this coming Saturday has to be diluted by the presence of buses and taxis on the streets which will be blocked off to other traffic. The quays nearby will still be used by cars. Even a few hours without a car is too much to contemplate.

Whether you are in Cork on Friday for culture or Saturday for open streets — or any other day — you can see yet another culture that is alive and well within the city, one which satisfies Williams’s definition of “a whole way of life”. This is the culture of dereliction, which is particularly powerful in Cork.

A couple of weeks ago I took a stroll from the South Main Street to the North Gate Bridge and itemised the various signifiers of urban decline to be found along the old spine of the city: there were plenty of them on hand.

However, as a few people have pointed out to me since, I missed almost as many eyesores as I listed in my piece.

The culture of dereliction manifests itself in the quay wall falling into the river at the South Gate Bridge: a year after the initial fall a schedule of works was eventually agreed with the landowners to repair the damage. That culture is glaringly obvious in the vacant, run-down space next to the old Sir Henry’s club, a fenced-off wilderness right across the road from the new development at Beamish’s.

It’s also visible at the far end of North Main Street, where a beautiful old archway lurks around the corner from Supermac’s — it’s believed to date back to the opening of the old City Corn Market on Anglesea Street in the early nineteenth century, and it certainly looks a fitting portal to an old commercial exchange. Now it does sterling service overlooking a pile of rubbish bins.

Just as many people find it impossible to conceive of a Saturday visit to town without using their car, how many can conceive of a vibrant, clean, viable streetscape in the very centre of the city?

This is the dark side of culture as an idea: we can see on Friday evening the sparkling creativity, the fruits of bright imagination. On Saturday, and on other days, the view can be a little different.

In the latter case, culture suggests a set of preconceptions and beliefs that are so engrained as to seem natural and obvious. This is something that exercised Raymond Williams in his own time, too.

He was fond of saying that a confidence trick of the bourgeoisie is to convince everyone that their idea of culture is the natural, inevitable idea of culture, and is thus widely accepted. He might have had classical music or experimental theatre in mind, but the primacy of the private car and the acceptance of a crumbling city fit his thesis just as well: just a couple of beliefs which are able to live unchallenged by an alternative framing.

Anyway, enjoy Culture Night tomorrow, wherever you go and whatever you consume. Just don’t forget those other cultures, which hold such sway in Cork, and everywhere else. Unfortunately, they apply year-round, and not just one night every twelve months.