Capital culture

By Christopher Whalen

Capital culture

Oxford: a city brimming with current and future world leaders in the arts and sciences. A place with a richly diverse population. A centre of culture for centuries - both in Britain and abroad. Why then, is the town's bid to become the European Capital of Culture in 2008 lagging behind its rivals? The comparatively unglamorous competitors from Belfast, Liverpool and Newcastle-Gateshead are already attracting the smart bets as the bookmakers' favourites. And when Tony Blair makes his selection on behalf of the UK next year, it seems that one of these cities will be sucking up even more bureaucratic bounty. Up to £100m, to be exact. It is also projected that winning the title could create around 10,000 new jobs.

The European Union scheme to name and fame a city as the European Capital of Culture has already proved its economic worth in Glasgow, which won the accolade in 1990. Twelve years after the event, Scotland's second city is still reckoning the rewards. Glasgow is now the third most visited city in the UK. Only London and Edinburgh can attract more tourists. Glasgow has also modernized its infrastructure. It can now boast state-of-the-art conference facilities at the eye-catching 'Armadillo' - akin to the Sydney Opera House. The city centre and the derelict Clydeside shipyard sites have also been rejuvenated.

It appears, however, that the EU-funded culture chase has changed course since its inauguration in 1985. A look at the list of past winners tells the tale: Athens, Paris, Berlin, Weimar, Bruges, Graz. The contest has now dropped down a few divisions from heavyweight to flyweight. It no longer seeks to celebrate the traditional cultural breeding-grounds. It aims instead to establish new ones. The emphasis is now more on capital, rather than culture. Frankly, there are cities more in need of a cultural and economic boost than Oxford. The city of dreaming spires and squires could already - and quite rightfully - claim the unofficial title as a capital of culture. Perhaps the influx of money and tourists, and the jobs that go with them, would be more appreciated in beleaguered Belfast or the needy north-east conurbation, Newcastle-Gateshead. 

The latest statistics show that over 5.3 million visitors came to Oxford in 1996. This created £185m in revenue and supported almost 7,300 tourism-related jobs. From this evidence, Oxford already benefits from the sort of cash flow that the EU initiative could induce. And in any case, do the residents of Oxford really want even more photo opportunists posing in front of the Radcliffe Camera? The medieval University buildings and intellectual aura of the place already attract a non-flinching foreign legion of tourists, throughout the seasons. According to Oxford City Council's promotional literature, however, it appears that a different type of tourist will be targeted. Gone will be the T-shirt sporting, pavement-crowding, open-topped bussing, shopping bagged photographers. In its place will stand the archetypal cultural sponges. 

The city is therefore placing its trust in the University's innovators. It claims to be at the cutting edge of science and can cite a list of 366 Oxonian 'greats': one for each day of the 2008 leap year. The Oxford bid does not need the support of minor celebrities such as Bradford's Gareth Gates, of Pop Idol fame. Instead it can drop such diverse names as JRR Tolkien, Sir Christopher Wren, Radiohead and even Inspector Morse.  

However, the most striking feature of the Oxford bid is a plucky attempt to end the age-old academic civil war between the Arts and Science tribes. The daring proposal promises to put snotty-nosed art eccentrics alongside goggled science geeks and expects them to work together - writing plays about the recent advances in biomedicine! Nevertheless, the plans look certain to reverse the charge of the city's tourist magnet. The promotion of children's literature and an ambitious 'Park and Glide' water transport scheme are hardly likely to attract the same sort of trans-oceanic backpacker, eager to sneak a peek at Chelsea Clinton. 'Hooray!' cries Miss Clinton - and the rest of the student body. But Oxford is not going to win the title, so she needn't get her hopes up. The world-touring day-tripper from London will not transform overnight into the theatre buff who arrives at the Oxford Playhouse by boat. The Oxford tourist is no Cinderella having a make-over on a daytime TV talk show. As Oxford knows only too well, old stereotypes die hard and slow.

25th Apr 2002