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Consumption at multicultural festivals
There are different types of multicultural festivals, or festivals which in their themes cohere with multiculturalism or the multicultural society. First of all, there are the multiculti festivals already mentioned. Then there are those with a very different origin, and in some cases these adopt form elements of the multiculti festival or of the ideology of multiculturalism. This occurs in some ethnic and neighbourhood festivals. All these types are currently common in Holland, though historically specific. The present article does not offer a history of these festivals, but clearly this type of festival, perhaps the ‘festival’ as form itself, coheres with prevailing ideas of identity and ethnicity, but also with the available facilities in the form of e.g. subsidies. Below I shall first discuss the multiculti festivals. Next, I shall take a look at ethnic and neighbourhood festivals, and at the possible processes of multiculturalization these undergo.
Multiculti festivals
next sectionLarge festivals such as Dunya in Rotterdam, Roots in Amsterdam and Mundial in Tilburg can be considered part of a relatively new and growing category in the European festival landscape: the multiculti festivals. Each of the three has its own character, but there are significant similarities. They offer a varied spectrum of activities, but the emphasis is on music groups from all over the world performing on several podiums.[3] Sometimes these venues are continental, i.e. one per continent, so that the spectator can visit all continents in one day as it were.
But certainly nowadays there often are other arrangements. In addition to the official programme, multiculti festivals offer markets selling jewellery and trinkets, clothing and accessories. The food smells are also similar, and enhance the visitor’s physical experience.
The Dunya festival has three main podiums: African, Latin-American and European / Asian. In addition to these ‘continental’ podiums there is a ‘Young and Urban’ podium, a ‘Poetry Park’ and a children’s playground. Strikingly, many groups performing on the continental podiums consisted of members with a Dutch background as well as members from other cultural backgrounds. Thus, while offering music from all over the world, this also confirmed Dutch society’s multicultural character.
In addition to the performances the Dunya festival also features a market, with so many products that it defies description in full. I selected one stall to focus on, not because it was so special but precisely because the array of products it offers is so similar to the collections found in many other stalls. In the stall I chose there were African masks, but also wooden drums with a top of stretched skin pulled taut with a rope. Some drums were decorated, for instance in red, yellow and green, the colours of the Ethiopian flag also used by Rastafarians.
From the stall’s tarpaulin roof hung a Chinese lantern. With tiny mirrors attached to its green and yellow fabric, a feature that was also found on an oblong cloth decorated with black and red fabrics, and hanging at the front of the stall. The tiny mirrors as well as the miniature golden yellow elephants embroidered on the cloth reminded one of India or its neighbouring countries. Flat little rectangular textile bags in brilliant colours also hung there. Equally bright were the colours of the roughly woven textiles used for the rucksacks on the floor. At the back there were batik print T-shirts, and in front of the stall stood a rack of coats at 25 euros each, 45 for two.
Other stalls offered different collections but nevertheless they breathed the same exotic ‘far-off countries’ feeling, for instance a Latin-American stall where under its top Canadian dream catchers whirled about , and thick woolen jumpers with loud prints were on display as well as leather and textile wrist straps. Though varied, to the frequent visitor of multiculti festivals like myself, the collection is very familiar.
Together with other visitors, I slowly moved along the whole display, and like the others I rarely buy anything. First the entire market is looked over, and the small bags, the wrist straps and cloths are fingered. It is the seduction, the foreplay that I and many other visitors enjoy most of all. We are more active spectators who actively and physically experience and form the festival’s performance. Like the woman in the introductory incident, we let ourselves be seduced by the exotic character, in this case not primarily of people, but of merchandise. In fingering, judging and selecting the products and in our surrender to the seductions, we are active consumers. Thus, consuming the products becomes a performance, in addition to all the other performances at the festival, in which presenters and stage performers meet with consumers and spectators.
The intertwining with a specific group of visitors makes it possible to see the Dunya festival as a kind of lifestyle fair where world music lovers can watch their favourite music being performed, where household accessories from countries we would someday like to visit on vacation can be purchased, as well as outfits befitting the multiculti lifestyle. Here the latter concept refers to a group sharing a certain taste and consumption pattern. Clearly this is coherent with all kinds of other factors, such as a specific combination of economic and cultural capital, as Bourdieu puts it (1984, 114-125). However, not everyone adopts the multiculti lifestyle to the same extent and in the same way. I see people who in appearance totally fit the multiculti lifestyle, and others who do not. And though I myself loyally visit the various festivals in my neighbourhood, I am also somewhat sceptical about both the multiculti lifestyle and multiculturalism.
The Dunya festival attracts visitors from all over Holland, in 2004 there were 150,000 to 160,000.[4] The varied supply of food, music, clothing and accessories has a certain target audience, and in attracting that audience the components mentioned reinforce each other. Just like other lifestyle fairs, whether erotic or for millionaires, each offers the opportunity to experience one particular lifestyle – rather than a location where different lifestyles or cultural backgrounds meet, as intended by the organizers and as is obvious from their presentation of the festivals. For instance, the Dunya festival newspaper’s front page cries out: ‘Step into the city’s mirror!’ This implies that all groups in the city are equally represented at the festival. One glance at the crowd suffices to realize that this is not the case.
That the multiculti lifestyle is intertwined with the festival, is obvious at the Dunya festival where for instance the type of objects sold, reappears elsewhere at the festival. Quite a few visitors wear clothes and jewellery very similar to those on offer at the festival market. And the Press Centre features loudly decorated purple, yellow and red cushions with tiny mirrors that could have been bought at the festival as well.
In addition to the official programme and the products offered at the stalls, of course there is something which to many is foremost in their minds: food and drink. Here as well, the selection is familiar, due in particular to a specific kind of diversity. We can get food from various continents: Surinamese baras, Turkish döner, but also Dutch ‘poffertjes’ (miniature pancakes) and chips. These are offered in a way that emphasizes the ethnic or national singularity, for instance by means of cocktail sticks decorated with little national flags. And tacos sold against a background poster showing swarthy men wearing sombreros, with brightly coloured Mexican cloths and a real sombrero hanging from the roof.
The presentation and combination of refreshments are not always directly linked to an ethnic or national origin. For instance, a stall near the European / Asian platform of the Turkish Association for the Unity of the Peoples sells mint tea, a Moroccan version I never encountered in Turkey or when visiting Turkish-Dutch families. But this Moroccan tea that some trendy Amsterdam cafés feature on their menus, is more popular than the strong version used in Turkey, and provides more profit and interest for the organization.[5]
Despite the abundantly clear interest of the market and the consumption of food and drink and objects, the map of the Dunya festival location does not show where the latter are sold, and in the festival newspaper most attention focuses on the stage performances. Finally, on the 17th of its 19 pages the publication mentions food and drink. There is a good reason for this. At the 2004 Dunya festival the event organizer Loc 7000 took care of the stalls selling food and drink. As a result the number of stalls was reduced by 50%. So as to reassure the visitors, the paper reported: ‘Of course there still are the exotic snacks. And still catering to every taste: from baklava to falafel.’ However, the paper’s interpretation of this representation of the festival – in which music gets far more attention than food – could also be turned around. The music then forms the background against which people eat and drink, and buy all sorts of products.
Ethnic festivals
Much writing and thought has been devoted to ethnic groups’ celebrations. A classic explanation of Durkheim’s work considers the celebration functional within the ethnic group itself. By this medium the group communicates with itself and forms its own identity. Baumann (1992, 98-99) criticizes this explanation. He argues that it neither does justice to Durkheim’s work nor is it helpful in understanding celebrations that take place in the context of multicultural or multi-ethnic societies, because there the ‘other’ is always implied. Within the Durkheimian framework festivals of ethnic groups are even harder to understand. Ethnic festivals are celebrations that, in addition to the communication with one’s own group, precisely aim at communicating with the ‘other’. Thus they also become the platform of an ethnic identity. During the celebration this identity is redefined in relation to the ‘other’.
The Turkey festival in Deventer, organized in 2004 by two local mosque associations, hence in two locations, is an instance of an ethnic festival where – though with the emphasis on one group – elements from the multiculti repertoire are recognizable. What matters is not that it is aimed at various ethnic groups, but the mould in which the own identity is cast. As became clear above, this form consists of an emphasis on the physical experience and on the colourful aspects of ethnicity. Furthermore, the suggestion of authenticity is aroused by the attention for an ethnically profiled heritage of dance, music and material culture. At the Turkey festival much attention is paid to the various dishes from the Turkish cuisine and to handicraft. At the Milli Görüs mosque for instance, demonstrations were given of preparing lahmacun, manti, sarma and börek, all of which are Turkish dishes. In addition there are ‘folklore dance’ performances, a henna evening and Sufi music. As at the multiculti festival, music and food are very important, and ethnic identity is emphasized using a canon of what is considered ‘typically Turkish’.[6]
Also important in the form of the multiculti festival is the market with its specific genre of multiculti products. At the small-scale Turkey festival the opportunity to buy is far more limited than at the multiculti festivals. Yet here as well, consumption is not unimportant. The supply of various Turkish dishes contributes to the ethnic profiling that the organization aims to achieve. Although there are two market stalls, this does not suffice to render it a market. Besides, the second-hand articles of the Turkish mosque visitors hardly appeal to the mainly middle-class public that the festival attracts from outside. The books are in Turkish and most of the needlework consisted of head scarves. In an interview after the festival an organization member stated that the market was added at the last moment, and that the organization took whatever was available. She added that in a future edition of the festival this might change. On the other hand the market products support the festival’s Turkish character, and thus contribute to communicating a Turkish identity.[7]
Contrary to the different multiculti festivals, at this festival religion did play a part – as was to be expected when two mosque associations are the event’s main organizers. Still, very attractive and accessible aspects from the religion were selected, such as festivities surrounding boys’ circumcision, and the prayer rug as a source of creativity. Here as well, there was a connection to the non-confronting character that ethnicity adopts within multiculturalism and at multiculti events (see also Van der Horst 2003).
Though the festival organization emphatically wished to reach a non-Turkish public, the great majority of visitors had a Turkish background. And they all seemed familiar with both the spaces and the organization. As non-Turkish visitors my friend and I were well aware of our ‘otherness’ in this context. This was accentuated shortly after our arrival; while we were still aimlessly looking around we were approached by a young Turkish woman with a head scarf who offered us a guided tour. Later I learned she was a HBO student (i.e. she studied at a Dutch institute for higher vocational studies). Disappearing anonymously into the crowd, as at multiculti festivals, was not an option here. At that moment there was only one other non-Turkish visitor and she soon joined us, as if she too felt somewhat insecure in this setting. Later we were ‘transferred’ to a sister and her friends who took us to the festival’s ‘Ottoman Corner’ where they ordered tea and baklava (Turkish sweets). We exchanged information on our activities in daily life. The women took the opportunity to ask us about the origin of our interest in the festival. However, I grasped the chance to ask them about the background and occasion for the festival. The dominant impression was that we were on a visit in unknown surroundings in which our hostesses as well as we ourselves assumed an attitude in a performance that suited this mutual unfamiliarity.
At the Summer Carnival in Rotterdam, the second originally ethnic festival that I single out, we see a very different kind of multiculturalization. This is not about adopting form elements from the multiculti festival, but about expanding the focus from one ethnic group to several groups. In an interview an organizer tells us that as a successful festival it attracts groups who want to hitch a ride on its success, and use the festival as a platform on which to exhibit their own identity. The Summer Carnival has accommodated these groups. Comparable developments may be observed at the Kwakoe and Pasar Malam festivals.[8]
The Summer Carnival developed from a Dutch-Caribbean initiative, i.e. from the Netherlands Antilles and Aruba, and takes place in Rotterdam. It began in 1984, and by 2004 it attracted one million visitors. The successful carnival was embraced by other ethnic groups, some of which, such as the Cape Verdians, did have their own carnival culture, whereas some other groups, for example those from Surinam, did not. Meanwhile the Antillean origin is hardly recognizable in promotion material and websites – although the festival organization is still almost completely Antillean.
In the interview the organizer mentioned that he wants to avoid the Summer Carnival becoming a ‘parade of cultures’, thereby consciously distancing himself from the multiculti genre – which he considers vulgar. Nonetheless there are groups that by means of national flags or texts on their cars make it very clear where they are from. Besides, their attire is often traditional, hence not ‘progressive, original and artistic’ i.e. in line with the organization’s wishes. The groups take advantage of the platform offered to present their ethnic identity to the outside world – just as is customary at the ethnic festivals. Someone interviewed in the NPS documentary broadcast the day after the 2004 Carnival appreciated all groups showing their uniqueness, thus implying that he views the Carnival as a parade of cultures, rather than the intercultural event the organizers had in mind. But obviously the latter are unable to determine the image, as both participants and spectators shape and give meaning to the festival in their own way.
While due to the focus on several ethnic groups, the Summer Carnival has become multiculturalized, this does not apply to its form. As stated in the introduction, the festival has various forms and the carnival is one of these. However, these different forms do have consequences for the festival’s charisma and the way a spectator experiences the festival. The Summer Carnival parade route runs through the entire inner city, and everywhere along the route crowds gather to watch. In a carnival parade a market would seem out of place, hence there is none. At the multiculti festivals the visitors constantly move around the fixed podiums, whereas at the Summer Carnival parade the people stay where they are and line the streets to watch the podiums pass them.
The audience is diferent as well. Those on the political left with above-average education who visit the multiculti festivals, are here not as clearly present. The women wear short skirts and brightly coloured tank tops. Most men prefer sports clothes. And here too, an African male has set up a display of merchandise: belts made of cheap-looking or imitation leather with shiny buckles and iron studs don’t appeal to notions of authenticity or African identity as the products in the Dunya festival stalls do. But then it isn’t the multiculti public that can be found here; the Summer Carnival spectators are eager customers.
My experience of this festival is very different from that of the Turkey festival described above. This is primarily due to the difference in size. At the latter small-scale festival I was spotted very soon, but at the Dunya festival I was part of an anonymous mass. Moreover, my physical experience of the festival is far more passive. Having wrestled my way from the station through the crowds to a spot with a reasonable view of the parade, I am reluctant to abandon it in search of a better one, for fear of ending up behind the crowd with no view at all. I eat and drink very little all day, so as not to lose my spot. This is made easier by the supply that is far less attractive than at the multiculti and Turkey festivals. Tent stalls sell beer and soft drinks and there is the odd chip van. Oh, and one stall sells ham rolls. So, unlike the supply at the festivals described before, the food available in my vicinity does not support a multicultural or ethnic theme.
Neighbourhood festivals
In mixed neighbourhoods organizers often use neighbourhood festivals to try and forge unity from diversity. They have become an instrument to stimulate a ‘neighbourhood feeling’ or social cohesion in neighbourhoods where in daily life the various groups of inhabitants live parallel lives, hardly ever reaching out and getting in touch. What seems to contradict this aim, is that these urban neighbourhood parties often emphasize the different origins of the participants. Thus however, they do connect with the multiculturalist credo of unity in diversity.
The annual Oosterparkfestival[9] named after its Amsterdam location, fits this framework. It is financed by MDSO, a foundation for community work that in various ways tries to promote this social cohesion in the neighbourhood. It’s a Liberation Day event (5 May), and emphasizes the combat against racism. At this festival, elements of the multiculti form reappear most strongly in the commercial activities within the festival area. The food stalls organize themselves along ethnic lines, and in various ways they make it clear from which countries their dishes originate. There are Surinam stands, a Turkish kebab stand where the proprietor sports a ‘Turkey’ bandana, and an Ethiopian stand demonstrating a coffee ceremony. But Dutch ‘oliebollen’ (deep-fried lardy cakes) and ‘poffertjes’ (miniature pancakes) also fit the image. These too, are presented in a national / ethnic way. The ‘poffertjes’ stand is decorated with red-white-and-blue streamers. On top of the cart a banner proclaims ‘Hollandsche poffertjes’ and in the middle a large golden amulet bears the Dutch coat of arms.
As at the Dunya festival discussed above, the non-food stalls are organized differently. Somehow, they clearly seem to be about ‘ethnic’ products, in some cases a continent or region seemed to be linked to a stall, but nowhere is a national identity or product origin clearly emphasized. The stalls display the same colourful collection of African jewellery, decorative objects, Surinam cloths, drums and dream catchers as described above for the Dunya festival. Here as well, the binding element seems to be the multculti lifestyle.
The Oosterpark festival is part of a network of nationwide liberation festivals. Yet they particularly emphasize the character of a neighbourhood festival, for example in the way in which the programme is published in the neighbourhood paper. Thus it announces the possibility of a dialogue between the neighbourhood’s youth and elderly people, and an exhibition of drawings and poems by neighbourhood children. It is a small-scale festival and various groups of inhabitants are represented both on stage and in the audience, even though the attending contingent from Surinam is far more numerous than the neighbourhood Turks and Moroccans, while nevertheless the largest group are native white Dutch.
By day a local youth centre is in charge of the programming. There boys and girls imitate their American pop idols and dance to their music, with some candid Dutch ‘gangsta rap’ and music of an ethnic hue thrown in for taste. The evenings offer artists who are more professional. And here too, diversity is the trend; a Caribbean carnival dance band, but also a North-African band whose latin influences announced in the programme brochure escaped my laywoman’s ears.
At the festival it is difficult not to get infected with a positive feeling about the multicultural society, or at least by the festival’s multicultural neighbourhood. There is only one stage for everyone, hence no division across continental tents. We all listen to music, eat tasty food, without getting wrapped up any further in an all too clear multiculti concept. The physical experience of the festival nurtures a feeling of solidarity.