Almost alone among my Sun Media colleagues, I have argued that federal spending on the arts should not be cut but should, in fact, be increased. Why? For the glory of Canada, of course!
In May, I wrote:
The first — but not best — reason is this kind of spending is good for the country’s bottom line. That’s right: Every dollar spent on the arts is worth many more dollars in economic activity and increased tax revenue for multiple levels of government.
But the second and best reason for a federal government to invest is because this is what great nations do and, if I’ve heard Stephen Harper say it once, I’ve heard him say it a hundred times, he believes Canada is a great nation that can be greater. And funding the arts is one important step on the path to greatness.
I'm not sure Harper's government is convinced of the merits of this argument, but Russian President Dimitri Medvedev seems to be. The Russian government just spent $680 million (U.S.) to renovate a theatre. By comparison, one of the Harper government's signature recession-fighting projects in its Economic Action Plan was its Recreational Infrastructure Canada program (RiNC), set up to renovate and repair hockey rinks, soccer pitches, and basketball courts across the country. Canada spent $500 million over two years on hundreds of these RiNC projects. Russia spent $680-million on one theatre alone. Mind you, that theatre, the Bolshoi, happens to be older than the United States. Still, it was a helluva big project and, as Simon Morrison reports, Medvedev understood the value and importance of this spending to the idea of Russia:
In the run-up to the reopening, the staff of a newly created federal agency devoted solely to the theater’s restoration dazzled journalists with tales of miracle-working artisans. I was impressed to learn about the demineralization of the limestone columns, which removed a century of city grime to uncover a matte, milky white surface. The theater issued a scandal-free account of the project full of staggering statistics: 2,812 sheets of 960 carat gold leaf were applied across the auditorium; 24,000 pieces of crystal were polished, refashioned, and rehung in the chandelier. The result is meant to overwhelm, and it certainly does. In his opening remarks from the stage at the gala, a slightly nervous-looking Medvedev observed that Russia, vast as it may be, was “very limited” in terms of “the number of unifying symbols, national treasures, of so-called national brands.” The Bolshoi is now clearly the preferred brand, the Kremlin’s designer label. (my emphasis)
Now, you may disagree with Medvedev's and Russia's politics. Many do. But there's no denying that Russia — like China or France or the UK or any of the world's great powers — seeks to use its accomplishments in architecture, theatre, dance, painting, poetry and music as one way to establish claims to “greatness” among all the civilizations the world has ever known. Back to Morrison and opening night of the renovated Bolshoi:
The curtain opened to reveal a noisy, dusty construction scene. Slowly members of the Bolshoi chorus, dressed as workers, gathered at the proscenium to perform the anthem “Be Glorious, Russia!” to onstage brass accompaniment and the pealing of Orthodox bells. No fewer than six works by the imperial Russian composer Tchaikovsky were performed by in-house and guest artists. Next in line came Glinka and Prokofiev, with works two each. The first of these two composers has been mythologized as the father figure of Russian music; the second spent the first half of his career in the West, but then nostalgically decided to return to Russia—though he arrived at a very bad time, the beginning of the Stalinist Terror. Medvedev applauded politely throughout, but did not respond after the French soprano Natalie Dessay sang Rachmaninoff’s setting of Pushkin’s lyric, “Ne poy, krasavitsa.” The text refers to Georgia—no friend of Russia these days.