Build it, and it will flourish
Every morning, as I jog my 7km up and down Bowen Road, I see abundant examples of organic growth. There are vines and moss, kittens and puppies that grow into cats and dogs, social groups that wax and wane, babies that become toddlers, and early morning sword dancers who become stiffer with age. There are even elements of organic art, or at least organic contributions to the path's ambience. Last week, somebody slipped in two lifesize plaster of Paris tigers at one stream junction. More and more often, a man with parrots is walking up from Wan Chai to show them off to tour groups and children.
The processes that govern Bowen Road are slow and magical. Should the same processes shape other urban landmarks?
The question is currently relevant to the massive and contentious West Kowloon cultural hub, and the answer is yes, and no. Yes, in the sense that it will take a continuous, dedicated effort to turn 12 hectares of museums and performing arts spaces - bigger than New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art and Lincoln Centre put together - into something more than a white elephant. No, because as long as the arts facilities adopt their promised structures of governance, they will have the seeds of organic growth within. Each of the three finalists has proposed independent boards with autonomous management of funding, if not specific endowments, to cover the $30 billion in arts funding that they have committed over the life of the project. This combines elements of both the publicly funded arts traditions of the commonwealth, and the private-sector approach of the United States. It leaves management of the arts in the hands of arts professionals and the community, and if anybody can provide continuous and dedicated effort to bring these venues to life, it should be them.
Of all the arguments hurled at Hong Kong's planned $24 billion, 40-hectare culture and commercial complex, perhaps the most absurd is that it constrains organic growth of the arts through overspecification. In other words, the four museums, the four concert halls, and school for the arts will become sterile housings for nothing much. That is only if the independent boards that will run the arts facilities let them, or if the development companies fail to meet the guaranteed level of funding over 30 years, in which case the Hong Kong government will repossess their 40 hectares.
It is time for anybody who cares about the arts in this city to take a stand in favour of the positive elements captured in the cultural hub. If the government gives in to public pressure to require multi-developer tenders - remembering that the developers themselves will not be reluctant, given lower plot ratios already mandated and the high risks of the project - it is not only the economics that will change. It will also become easily possible for the entire project to downgrade in terms of architectural, environmental and cultural aesthetics. Even if cultural software is more important in the long run, in the short run, the hardware will be at risk.
Organic evolution of the content of these facilities, whenever and however they are built, is not just desirable, but built-in. The lead time on completion of the project is eight to 10 years. For a decade, curators and maestros will have the opportunity to build collections and develop musicians, dancers and repertoire.
After all the uproar over the lack of democracy behind the deal, could we at least acknowledge that the arts is not a matter of majority rule? For this sparkling and ambitious cultural enterprise to take flight, the community should recognise that while the proposals are by no means perfect, they aim to set a standard for the world to follow.
Edith Terry is a writer based in Hong Kong
