Urban Studies, Vol. 41, No. 3, 507–532, March 2004

Cultural Clusters and the Post-industrial City:Towards the Remapping of Urban Cultural Policy

H.MommaasDepartment of leisure StudiesTilburg University5000 LE TilburgPO Box 90153The Netherlands � 31 13 466 2003j.t,mommaas@uvt.nl

Hans Mommaas

[Paper first received, October 2001; in final form, September 2003]

Summary. This paper explores and discusses the fairly recent phenomenon of cultural cluster-ing strategies in the Netherlands. Amongst other things based on ideologies of ‘enterpriseculture’, the quest for urban imagery and positioning strategies, the changing spatial fabric ofcities and a search for economic and cultural revitalisation, for the past 5–10 years, the formationof cultural clusters has turned into something of an urban cultural development hype. However,what at first glance appears as a common model, often accompanied by boldly expressed slogansconcerning the new role of culture and creativity in the physical and economic revitalisation ofcities, in more detail unfolds as an ambivalent and conflict-ridden mixture of cultural, economic,social and spatial interests and sentiments. From a short-term perspective, such an eclecticblending of interests and sentiments might be considered as a good opportunity for urbancultural developments within a ‘post-modern’ urban development regime. However, from along-term perspective, there is the danger that the divergent sentiments and interests start toundermine and constrain each other, in the end resulting in adverse effects, mutual distrust anda standstill of developments. Following a detailed investigation of five cultural clustering projectsin the Netherlands, and based on Zukin’s account of the exchange of cultural and economicvalues in the contemporary city, the paper argues that, in order to get out of this potentiallyself-defeating situation, and to enable a more sensitive but also strategic involvement of thecultural sector in the governance of cultural cluster projects, it is necessary to develop a moresophisticated understanding of the complex dynamics involved. Central to this is a locally specificappreciation of the changing interaction between culture (place) and commerce (market) intoday’s mixed economy of leisure, culture and creativity. This implies both a critique andadvancement of existing theories concerning the role of culture in urban development and thedevelopment of a more detailed comparative perspective on urban cultural policy projects, thusmoving beyond overgeneralised perceptions of the developments concerned.

Introduction

During the past 10–15 years, the creation ornourishment of cultural clusters has beenincreasingly taken up as a new, alternativesource for urban cultural development. Mix-tures of cultural functions and activities,from production to presentation and con-sumption and from theatre and the visual arts

to pop music and the new media, are groupedtogether in a great variety of spatial forms.Projects may restrict themselves to stand-alone buildings or larger building complexes,or they may include entire quarters or net-works of locations. Mostly, the projects arehoused in former industrial complexes, but

Hans Mommaas is in the Department of Leisure Studies, Tilburg University, PO Box 90153, 5000 LE Tilburg, The Netherlands.Fax: � 31 13 466 2003. E-mail: j.t.mommaas@uvt.nl. A first version of this paper was presented at the ‘Cultural Change andUrban Contexts’ Conference in Manchester, UK, 8–10 September 2000.

0042-0980 Print/1360-063X On-line/04/030507–26 2004 The Editors of Urban StudiesDOI: 10.1080/0042098042000178663

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quite often they also imply the building ofnew sites. While some clustering strategiesare restricted to genuine artistic/cultural ac-tivities, most of them also incorporate a greatvariety of leisure and/or entertainment ele-ments: from bars, restaurants and culturalretail spaces to health and fitness complexes.Sometimes, the projects have started theircareer as ‘ploaps’, places left over after plan-ning, subsequently taken over by informalgroups of cultural producers who turn theminto alternative cultural sites. Sometimes, thecultural clusters began their existence in theminds of cultural managers, searching forways to strengthen the market position oftheir amenities within a more competitivecultural and leisure market. In other cases,the projects came to life on the drawing-board of urban planners, looking for ways torevitalise urban quarters or to strengthen thelocal ‘creative economy’. European exam-ples could include such projects as the Tem-ple Bar area in Dublin, the Museums Quarterin Vienna, the Custard Factory in Birming-ham, the fashion and textile quarter ofTicinese in Milan, the late-19th-century tex-tile factory chain of Finish Tampere, thenetwork of industrial landmark projects inNordRhein Westfalen, the multimedia clusterof Hoxton in London or the Lowry Centrecomplex in Salford. But these are just afew eye-catching examples of a much widercollection of cultural cluster projects in de-velopment or operation all over Europe. Inshort, the conscious creation or nourishmentof cultural sites, clusters or ‘milieus’ is rap-idly becoming something of an archetypalinstrument in the urban cultural planningtoolbox.

Cultural clustering strategies represent aninteresting turn in urban cultural policy-mak-ing and the organisation of the urban culturalfield. Whereas in former days local culturalpolicy-making mostly restricted itself to itsredistributive role within a vertically or-ganised public arts sector, today urban cul-tural policy-making has to operate on a muchmore comprehensive level, including hori-zontally articulated linkages of thinking andacting. A more inclusive, process-oriented

and transverse perspective, consciously tak-ing into account ‘external’ economic andspatial effects and conditions, has replaced orcomplemented a confined, vertical perspec-tive, predominantly based on notions of artis-tic progress and the refined citizen. In linewith this, other actors such as economic de-velopment agencies, urban planners and pri-vate investors have started to involvethemselves with what until recently was pri-marily regarded as an autonomous artisticfield. Basic to this more collaborative anddevelopmental approach is the interaction be-tween cultural activities, embedded in their‘own’ urban cultural infrastructure, and abroader field of urban dynamics and linked-in value chains.

Additionally, cultural clustering strategiesrepresent a next stage in the on-going use ofculture and the arts as urban regenerationresources. In earlier periods, this predomi-nantly involved the creation of big state-ments and flagship projects, from the GrandProjects in Paris to the emblematic Guggen-heim Museum in Bilbao. Today, with allmajor cities having developed their ownspectacular festival agendas and (re-)openedtheir flashy museums and theatre complexes,the regeneration-through-culture agenda hasmoved to a higher level. Here, we see a shiftfrom a policy aimed at organising occasionsfor spectacular consumption, to a more fine-tuned policy, also aimed at creating spaces,quarters and milieus for cultural productionand creativity.

For some time now, this broadening of thedevelopmental perspective has raised a lot ofuncertainties, conflicts and ambiguities. Cen-tral to this is a debate about the precisecharacter of the developments and the mo-tives and legitimations involved. Are wedealing here with a genuine interest in cul-tural advancement, with a proper cultural orarts strategy, aimed at the stimulation anddevelopment of ‘autonomous’ artistic val-ues? Or is Zukin right (1982, 1991) when sheconcludes that, whatever the original inten-tions of the cultural producers and develop-ers involved, this is merely another‘functionalisation’ of culture, exploiting

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culture for the sake of a recentralised ‘land-scape of consumption’, catering for new mid-dle-class consumers? And if the latter isindeed the case, when is this becoming aproblem and for whom? Will this inevitablylead to a destruction or inflation of originalartistic values, and to a (re)commodificationof the related spaces, thus driving out theoriginal cultural values? Or is it also possiblethat we are seeing the development of a new,more complex interaction between cultureand the economy, a situation implying that theclassical notion of l’exception culturelle, ac-cording to which the arts and the marketrepresent mutually antagonistic dynamics, isin for a change (see Looseley, 1999)?

In addition, and especially in relation to theEuropean realm, there is the issue of theinvolvement of the national/local state inthese projects. To what extent is the stress oncultural entrepreneurship, underlying most ofthese projects, just a cover-up for a diminish-ing public support for the arts, in the endhanding over artistic talent to the global cre-ative industries, tourism and the culture ofentertainment and the spectacle? Or are wewitnessing the development of a new relationbetween public policy and civil society, inwhich hybrid public–private organisationshave become as important as the state indefining what cultural policy means (Loose-ley, 1999)?

These are serious questions, but at the sametime they are more easily formulated thananswered. The new cultural policies underly-ing the cultural cluster strategies, and thechanging political, economic and cultural re-lations in which these operate, do not lendthemselves to easy armchair evaluations,based on oppositions stemming from formerperiods and contexts. Post-war changes incommunication and education, the more com-plex and local specific blending of culture andcommerce, the mixed composition of artisticand entertainment elements, the labyrinthinemingling of global, large-scale and local,small-scale cultural enterprises, the shiftingcomposition of the cultural field and the re-lated changing notions of artistic excellence,expressive autonomy, creative innovation or

cultural progress: these and other changeshave produced a diffuse situation, complicat-ing easy-going conclusions. There is a need totake into account the finer tactics and localspecific contexts involved, together with theentire portfolio of activities developed, withpossible forms of cross-subsidisation andcross-ownership, the intermingling of differ-ent taste paradigms, audiences and organisa-tional formats, the blending of short-term,singular and long-term, collective effects, thereciprocal relations between cultural internal-ities and economic externalities, and the cir-cumstantial alternation of moments ofcommodification and decommodification.

This paper is intended as a contribution tosuch a more fine-tuned analysis. The focuswill be on what is currently happening in theNetherlands in the field of cultural clusteringstrategies. First, we begin with a brief intro-duction of the type of projects involved. Thispart of the text will concentrate on a compar-ative presentation and classification of fiveprojects which stand out as examples of thenew urban cultural development model con-cerned. The projects are respectively situatedin the cities of Amsterdam, Rotterdam,Utrecht and Tilburg. They are chosen becauseas a group they represent the diversity of newclustering models currently under develop-ment in the Netherlands. Also, they are usedas sources of inspiration and support forcultural development projects elsewhere. Sec-ondly, we will disentangle the argumentslocally used in support of this type of urbancultural development strategy, especially pay-ing attention to the interesting mixture ofcultural, social, spatial and economicjustifications involved. Five fields of argu-ment will be differentiated. Relations will beexplored between the new cultural clusterstrategies and changes in national culturalpolicy principles, structural transformationsin the global/local cultural/leisure industries,the changing economic position of cities andnew patterns of cultural consumption. Thetext will conclude with a critical confron-tation between the cases studied and Zukin’saccount of the changing role of the arts andculture in contemporary urban development.

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As a result, it is argued that a more detailedunderstanding of the complex exchange ofcultural and economic values opens up op-portunities for better informed models of ur-ban cultural governance, able to develop newintersections of cultural and economic poli-cies, facilitating the attraction and(re)production of local cultural capital inthe midst of an expanding global culturaleconomy.

Cultural Clustering Strategies: FiveIllustrations

As pointed out, in the Netherlands, too, cul-tural clustering strategies come with a greatvariety of backgrounds and formats. A briefintroduction to five of them might illustratethis.

Rotterdam: The Museum Quarter

One of the first examples of a consciouslydeveloped cultural cluster can be found in theharbour city of Rotterdam. The project devel-oped during the 1990s, as part of a deliberateattempt by local government to strengthenthe urban profile of the city. At its heart is amuseum quarter, created in the eastern fringeof the inner city, in an existing park area. Theoriginal idea goes back to the 1970s, but wastaken up again as part of a new urban devel-opment plan, formulated in the second halfof the 1980s on the basis of a broader debateconcerning the future of the city (Mommaasand van der Poel, 1989; Hajer, 1993; vanAalst, 1997). In those days, Rotterdam wasconfronted with a steady rise in unemploy-ment figures, an uneven suburbanisation pro-cess and a deteriorating investment climate.Those involved saw the creation of the mu-seum quarter as a crucial element in abroader inner-city renewal and re-imagingstrategy, aimed at the markets of tourism,shopping and cultural consumption. The re-newal programme was inspired by develop-ments in Baltimore, a city well-known in theNetherlands for the use of culture and con-sumption in the revitalisation of its inner-cityharbour front.

Today, the museum quarter (master-planned by Rem Koolhaas) contains amuseum for classical and modern art (theBoijmans van Beuningen museum, whichpre-dates the museum quarter), a new archi-tectural institute (the ‘Nederlands Architec-tuur Instituut’, designed by Jo Coenen, aclear expression of the position of Rotterdamas a pioneering city in contemporary Dutcharchitecture), a Hall of Arts (the ‘Kunsthal’,the first world-famous example of RemKoolhaas’ innovative programming of spatialforms) and the recently renovated and ex-tended Nature Museum (the renovation/extension of which was designed by anothermember of the ‘new wave’ in Dutch architec-ture: Erick van Egeraat). In the summer, thepark in which the museums are situated isused for a variety of open-air theatre pro-grammes.

To connect the museum quarter to anothertourist destination, the historical harbourarea, situated on the opposite side of theinner city, the connecting street had to betransformed into something of a ‘culturalaxis’ or ‘cultural boulevard’, accommodatinga variety of cultural consumption-cum-production functions, including art galleriesand art cafes. This was one of the few late19th-century inner-city sites which survivedthe bombing of the city centre of Rotterdamat the beginning of the Second World War.Partly because of its marginal position, butalso because of its historical atmosphere, thearea developed into something of an alterna-tive space in the 1970s and 1980s, attractingboth an informal economy of drug-users anddrug-traders, and a mixed cultural infrastruc-ture of bistros, bars, galleries and arts edu-cation centres. Today, it is fair to say that theupgrading of the area has not yet succeededcompletely. Some of the galleries originallyattracted to the area have left again. Com-plaints were raised about a lack of supportfrom Rotterdam public arts organisations anda lack of public vigour in ‘sanitising’ theplace. At the same time, there was the feelingthat investments in the physical ‘hardware’of the new cultural infrastructure were notmet by equivalent investments in the cultural

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‘software’. In addition, the synergy effect,intended to result from the spatial clusteringof museum and other facilities, did notmaterialise as much as expected. Besides,and this is an important point, there is anoverall acknowledgement of the fact that,due to its defensive attitude, the cultural sec-tor has not taken the initiative enough in thedevelopment process (van Aalst, 1997). Wewill come back to this later.

Amsterdam: The Westergasfabriek

A completely different example of recentcultural clustering strategies can be found inthe city of Amsterdam. Located in the north-western fringe of the inner city of Amster-dam, pressed between a former harbour area,railway tracks and exit roads, the ‘Wester-gasfabriek’ concerns a late 19th-century in-dustrial complex, built in a typical eclecticneo-classical style. Originally, the site wasused for the coal-based production and distri-bution of gas. In the early 1990s, the com-plex was more or less given over into thehands of the local ‘Westerpark’ borough(Amsterdam has a decentralised public pol-icy system, with a major role for the bor-oughs). The complex was no longer neededfor the city centre’s energy supply. However,the borough lacked the resources to rede-velop the place. The soil was heavily pol-luted and, because of that, the site could notbe used for conventional market-driven pur-poses such as apartment buildings or busi-ness premises, without the necessary fundsneeded to clean it. Subsequently, the site wasmore or less handed over to a project team,formed by members of the administrationwhose task it became to manage the site aswell as possible, renting out the buildings fortemporary use, thus awaiting future options.

This turned out to be fortunate. In thecourse of the past 7–8 years, the place hasdeveloped into a distinctive cultural site,housing a broad and vivid mixture of short-and long-term cultural activities. It includes,amongst other things, a stylish cafe-cum-restaurant, a movie theatre especially dedi-

cated to Dutch cinema; rehearsal, productionand performing spaces for theatre companies,visual artists, a small film production com-pany, designers and spatial planners; spacesfor dance parties and festivals, conferences,fashion shows, company parties, etc. Thesuccess of the place in both the residentialand the tourist markets—the site is alreadymentioned in the Amsterdam edition of theRough Guide—is partly based on a clever,centrally controlled management scheme,aimed at producing as much cultural variety,change and openness as possible. Its successis also based on a carefully maintained ambi-ence of historicity and marginality. Thebuildings are only renovated up to the pointwhere they meet minimal standards of safetyand comfort, thus carefully maintaining the‘rough’ and bohemian atmosphere of a dere-lict 19th-century industrial site, also allowingfor a great variety of functions. The centre-piece (and cash-cow) of the complex isformed by the giant base of a former gas-holder, with a huge cast-iron roof, an im-pressive enclosed space, used for danceparties, company meetings, the recording ofcommercials, fashion shows and otherevents. Tenants are stimulated to make use ofthe artistic resources present on the site.Thus, the project team stimulates forms ofcross-subsidisation, linking profit-generatingactivities to activities crucial for the site’satmosphere, but which have no independentmarket yet.

Currently, the place is undergoing a majorrenovation. This primarily involves the infra-structure, the surrounding park and the fabricof the buildings. In order to gather the fundsneeded for this renovation, and to maintain acertain degree of independence from an al-ways-uncertain local policy agenda, thebuildings were sold to a property develop-ment company, known in the Netherlands forgrand inner-city projects. Negotiations aboutthe contract took a long time. This was partlydue to the intention to safeguard the currentambience and cultural programming schemeas much as possible, irrespective of futureowners. Time will tell whether the partnershave succeeded in doing so.

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Tilburg: The Veemarktkwartier

A third, and yet again completely different,example of a cultural clustering strategy con-cerns the so-called Veemarktkwartier, a pro-ject in the city of Tilburg in the southernDutch province of Noord Brabant. At stake isa deliberate attempt to create a cultural quar-ter, almost from scratch. The project is situ-ated in the eastern fringe of the inner city,adjacent to a renowned bar and restaurantarea. Tilburg is a typical late 19th-centurytextile city, now having 170 000 inhabitants.In the course of the 1960s–1970s, the textileindustries collapsed, resulting in high unem-ployment figures and a lot of redundant in-dustrial space. At this time, in the midst ofthe post-World War II modernisation period,these former industrial complexes symbol-ised an outdated era, to be erased from thecollective local memory as quickly and rad-ically as possible. Thus, the complexes weredemolished to give way to the ‘modern’ ser-vice city. As a result, not much of the formerindustrial infrastructure remained, somethingdeeply regretted today. The project of theVeemarktkwartier is situated in a former tex-tile industry area, accommodating a mixtureof 19th-century, post-World War II and con-temporary architecture, with a variety offunctions (mainly residential dwellings andoffice spaces).

The original idea to create a cultural quar-ter was produced by cultural managers al-ready active in the area. The Tilburg ArtsFoundation had bought a second building onthe site and a purpose-built, pop-music venue(the result of a merger between three localpop musical organisations; an expression ofthe cultural/spatial centralisation of pop mu-sic) was soon to be opened. Subsequently,managers from both organisations came upwith the idea to give the area a culturaldesignation. A window of opportunity pre-sented itself in the form of a national policyscheme, created to stimulate urban regener-ation projects. A proposal was made to de-velop a cultural quarter as a means to fighturban decay and to stimulate economic de-velopment and social cohesion. As a result,

the municipality of Tilburg received a sub-stantial amount of money from nationalgovernment to advance its plans.

Today, the quarter is still being developed.It already houses “013”, a purpose-built pop-music venue containing both performing, re-hearsal and recording facilities (with,amongst other things, a central hall able tocontain 2000 visitors); a centre for amateurarts, located in a former textile industrybuilding; a collection of small-scale culturalenterprises together with an arts library, situ-ated in a former bank building (owned by theTilburg Arts Foundation); managed workingspaces for arts and new media producers in aformer garrison complex, a former schooland a former hospital, and a great manysmall cultural enterprises scattered aroundthe area. In addition, there are plans to createadditional incubator spaces for new mediaenterprises, to build a youth centre aimed atinnovative forms of social and cultural en-trepreneurship, and to accommodate a new‘Rock Academy’ (the second of its kind inEurope).

The Tilburg cultural cluster is particularlyinteresting. It is one of the first Dutch exam-ples of a full-blown recognition of the poss-ible role of the arts and culture in urbanregeneration. Without having a clear ideaabout where it was going, and thus facing asituation in which one had to learn as onemoved along, the intention was to create acreative environment in which the cultural,social and economic functions of the arts andculture would mingle and stimulate oneanother. This involved not only the creationof a new, more integrated, policy organis-ation, overcoming established divisionsbetween cultural, economic and spatial sec-tors and departments, but also transformingthe roles of and relations between the public,non-profit and private sectors in a morehorizontally organised, collaborative andprocess-oriented direction.

Utrecht: The Museum and the TheatreQuarter

Towards the end of the 1990s, cultural clus-

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ter strategies became increasingly popular asan urban cultural development instrument.Two later examples of this can be found inthe city of Utrecht, predominantly an admin-istrative and service city, situated in the cen-tre of the Netherlands. The city is famous forits medieval city centre, with an emblematiccollection of medieval churches, historicalfacades and monumental canals and wharves.The first project involved the creation of aMuseum Quarter in the heart of the medievalcity, a project facilitated by European Re-gional Development funds. The second pro-ject concerns the formation of a TheatreQuarter in the late 19th-century, easternfringe of the city. Both projects were ini-tiated by the local municipality, but at thesame time they link in with existing initia-tives in the cultural field.

The museum quarter project is aimed atimproving the quality of public space and ofresidential living conditions, as well asstrengthening the tourist-recreational andcultural functions of the area. Central to theproject are the Municipal Museum, a recentlyextended and renovated museum for ancientand modern art, the Catharijne Convent, amuseum dedicated to the history of Catholicart, also undergoing a major renovation, andthe University Museum, housing exhibitionson science-related issues. The project islinked to other museums situated elsewherein the city centre. Included amongst those area national museum for mechanical playinginstruments (from musical boxes to carillonsto street organs) and a national railway mu-seum. In addition, the project involved theregeneration of the surrounding physicalarea, the revitalisation of an existing visualarts centre, the transformation of an old con-vent into a five-star hotel and the creation ofwork spaces for artists and other culturalprofessions involved in the preservation ofhistorical buildings. A comprehensive touristpromotion campaign was aimed at introduc-ing the museum quarter as a coherent productin the tourist market.

The theatre quarter developed in a morecontingent way. It is situated in the easternpart of the city, in a late 19th-century com-

plex of buildings, formerly accommodating afaculty of veterinary medicine. In the courseof the 1980s, after a fierce conflict betweenthe adjacent neighbourhood and the munici-pality—the municipality wanted to demolishthe site and replace it with apartment build-ings—the complex was renovated and a ma-jor part of the original buildings turned intoresidential spaces. Early in the 1990s, a newtheatre company established itself in the area,using two of the buildings as office, rehearsaland performing space. It named itself ‘DePaardenkathedraal’ (‘The Horses’ Cathe-dral’), referring both to the former functionof the new theatre building (a place wherethey walked and trained horses) and to itsmajestic neo-classical character.

In the course of time, more theatre compa-nies moved into the area, occupying otherparts of the complex. Presently, the complexalso accommodates a youth-theatre centre,involving itself with the production, training,staging and promotion of youth theatre. Thecentre resulted from a collaboration betweena number of theatre companies in Utrecht,the local arts academy, the municipal theatreand the local municipality. Other culturalinstitutions in the area include the city’s ar-chive, a cultural centre and a centre for con-temporary dance. In recent policy plans, thisspatial collection of cultural functions is con-sciously ‘branded’ together as a ‘creativequarter’. Partly, this strategy is legitimatedby emphasising the large proportion ofhighly educated people living in the area,with a great number of them working increative and/or knowledge-intensive indus-tries. Thus, a link is established between thedevelopment of the theatre quarter, the im-portance of nourishing the local creativeeconomy and the presence of a new middle-class audience.

Towards a Typology of Cultural Clusters

These are just a few examples of what todayis spreading rapidly as an alternative modelfor local cultural development; not justamongst the premier league of European cul-tural cities, but also amongst cities situated

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lower in the urban hierarchy. Other projects,in various stages of development, could havebeen added. However, they would notchange the overall picture. For the moment,two things are clear. First, in the culturalpolicy field we see the rise of a commonplace-based cultural development strategy,linking cultural activities and amenities toeconomic, spatial and social policy goals.Secondly, cultural clusters come in a greatvariety of cultural, spatial and organisationalforms, with a lot of different backgroundsand developmental paths. In a first attempt toorder some of that complexity, seven coredimensions can be differentiated. Togetherthey represent an attempt to create somethingof a cultural cluster classification.

First, there is a difference in terms of the‘horizontal’ portfolio of activities and theirlevel of intracluster collaboration and inte-gration. Although most projects contain ele-ments of leisure and consumption (shopping,entertainment, retail, bars and restaurants),the projects differ both in terms of the shareof these elements in the programme writlarge and in terms of the level of intraclustercollaboration between these leisure elementsand the cultural core. The role of leisureelements ranges from an autonomous add-on,to an important economic, cultural and socialelement in a wider support structure. In anarrower cultural sense, the clusters rangefrom an explicit focus on one specific artsand/or design sector, as in the case of themuseum and theatre quarters, to an explicitand/or pragmatic emphasise on multi-sectorality, cultural hybridity and cross-overs, as in case of the Westergasfabriek andthe Veemarktkwartier.

Secondly, there is the ‘vertical’ portfolioof the cultural functions involved—thespecific mixture of design, production, pres-entation/exchange and consumption activi-ties, together with the related level ofintracluster integration. This can reach frommonofunctional clusters predominantly or-ganised around a loose concentration of con-ventional consumption and/or presentationfunctions, as in the case of the two museumquarters, to multifunctional clusters based on

a more inclusive mixture of consumption,presentation/exchange and production, withstronger intrachain links, as in the case of theAmsterdam Westergasfabriek, the TilburgVeemarktkwartier and the Utrecht theatrequarter. The management team of the West-ergasfabriek stimulates the involvement ofsmall-scale cultural producers in the organis-ation of large-scale commercial events. In theTilburg Veemarktkwartier, there is a searchfor possibilities to strengthen intraclustermarkets, as in the case of the pop venuemaking use of communications expertise pre-sent in the quarter for its market communi-cation.

Thirdly, there is the organisational frame-work of the clusters in terms of the involve-ment of the various participants in themanagement of the sites. The clusters accom-modate different varieties of small- and me-dium-sized public and private organisations,with a different relation to the managementof the clusters as such. Some clusters, likethe two museum quarters, have no clear cen-tral management at all, apart from irregularmeetings between (groups of) participantsand local government taking a responsibilityfor the collective maintenance and promotionof the sites. Other clusters, like the Wester-gasfabriek, have a strong central manage-ment team, responsible for negotiating leasecontracts, attracting occupants, organisingcollective promotion and stimulating formsof cross-subsidisation. Somewhere in be-tween is the Tilburg Veemarktkwartier witha strong involvement of local administrationin attracting investment programmes and po-tential occupants, and in defining the spatialdestiny of the site, but with local administra-tion wanting to develop that task more andmore in collaboration with a project team,involving the major players in the cluster. Asa result, the smaller cultural entrepreneursare complaining about their marginal role inthe planning process. Paradoxically, much ofthe creative ambience/image of the place de-pends on them and, at the same time, they arethe collaborators mostly depending on thatcreative ambience/image. As van Bon (1999)has discovered in her study of the Northern

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Quarter in Manchester (UK), for smaller cul-tural entrepreneurs, clusters work both as aninformal, lifestyle environment and as a‘brand’, promoting trust amongst prospectiveclients. Larger organisations can do withoutboth. For them, it is enough to be part of aspatial concentration of functions, enablingthem to stand out more strongly in a morecompetitive leisure/cultural market.

Fourthly, and in relation to the organisa-tional situation, the clusters differ in terms ofthe financial regimes surrounding them andthe sort of related public–private sector in-volvement. Although most projects dependheavily on public support, either at the levelof the cluster as such, or at the level of theindividual projects, for some, such as in thecase of the Veemarktkwartier and the West-ergasfabriek, this is seen as a passing stagetowards a more privatised or ‘independent’existence, involving a variety of coalitionswith private enterprises and investors.Others, such as the museum quarters, willremain public-sector projects. But even here,there is a huge variety in the way in whichthe projects are related to public-sector man-agement, both at the level of the cluster andat the level of the individual participants. Invarious ways, the projects have moved be-yond conventional subsidy-based coalitions,towards hybrid public–private models, basedon a mixture of resources and managementrelations (public funding, entrance fees, leasecontracts, sponsorship money, heritagefunds). Crucial here is the level of internalcross-subsidisation or cross-financing. Spa-tially concentrating cultural functions is onething; transforming them into more self-sustaining milieus is quite another. It is onlyby strategically strengthening the internalproduction and value chains, and thus theinterorganisational flow of expertise andbusiness, that the clusters develop into some-thing of a cultural-economic microcosm.However, none of the clusters mentioned isyet at the stage where agglomeration effectsreally work—neither externally, in terms ofthe cluster working as a ‘brand’ or as ‘atmos-phere’, nor internally, in terms of an interfirmexchange of knowledge and businesses.

A fifth dimension involves the level ofopenness/adaptability or closeness/solidity ofthe spatial and cultural programmes in-volved. None of the clusters is housed instand-alone buildings and thus it is easier forthem to overcome the danger of becomingintroverted places, disconnected from thewider civic/cultural urban field. Neverthe-less, the projects differ in the way they bal-ance the necessity of being an identifiable,standing place on the one hand, based onstrongly shared representations, and being anopen and flexible space on the other, con-stantly adapting to changes in the wider cul-tural and urban field. Too much openness,with organisations not feeling involved orresponsible for the cluster itself, might en-danger the atmosphere and the identity of theclusters. Too much closeness, with stronglyshared conventions and internal commit-ments, might make the participants becomelocked-in within their own cultural andphysical space and thus reduce the clusters’capacity to change. The Veemarktkwartier isthe most open one, with a constantly chang-ing, but at the same time rather diffuse ident-ity, only shared amongst those mostinvolved. Also, the representation of thecluster is most of all based on the individualprojects and not on a clearly identifiablecommon atmosphere and identity. Hence, theability (or necessity) constantly to adapt it-self to changing pressures and opportunities.The Rotterdam museum quarter is the mostclearly defined and demarcated one but, asresearch shows, it is at the same time experi-encing difficulties in relating itself to thewider urban field. Hence the attempts todefine a cultural axis, connecting the mu-seum quarter to other ‘interesting’ urbanplaces. The Westergasfabriek can be posi-tioned somewhere in between, with a clearlyidentifiable physical space, but a rather opencultural programme, partly based on tempo-rary contracts; thus, despite its fixed spatialform, it ensures an open connection to thewider cultural field.

Sixthly, there are the specific developmen-tal paths of the clusters, from projects whichhave developed as part of a conscious ‘top–

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down’ planning strategy, to projects whichhave developed from a contingent coming-together of vernacular tactics. None of theprojects mentioned can be situated on eitherextreme of this differentiation. Neverthelessthe mixture of ‘top–down’ and ‘bottom–up’forces differs, with consumption-orientedclusters tending towards a higher planninginput of local administration and production-oriented clusters tending towards a higherinput from the historically formed urban cul-tural infrastructure itself. Of course, this willcome as no surprise given the more criticaldependency of production-oriented sites onthe willingness of cultural producers to in-volve themselves with the projects and thecritical logic involved in their locationchoice. As research into the cultural indus-tries in Dutch cities indicates, this not onlydepends on the availability of affordable andaccessible space, but also on the culturalatmosphere of the environment (van Vliet,2000; ETIN Adviseurs, 2003). Place, com-munity and cultural economy are often criti-cally interconnected (Scott, 1999) and,because of that, it becomes very difficult toplan these places from scratch, without theearly involvement of the cultural communityitself. We will come back to this later.

A last element involves the position of theclusters in a shifting spatial-cum-cultural ur-ban field. The more conventional pro-grammes, such as the museum quarters, aresituated more towards the centre of theircities. It is there that they are most able tolink in with the flow of cultural tourists.Other programmes, however, like the West-ergasfabriek, self-consciously position them-selves towards the margins of the city, thuscarefully maintaining something of analternative, bohemian atmosphere. Thus,these examples still mirror the conventionalspatial hierarchy of the city, with establishedcultural functions positioning themselves inthe centre and alternative activities findingtheir place towards the open and ‘underused’margins. However, some of the projectsmentioned also indicate interesting shifts inthis conventional urban cultural landscape.Consider theatre companies using their ‘mar-

ginal’ location more strongly as an alterna-tive branding device, as in the case of theWestergasfabriek and the Utrecht theatrequarter, and thus attracting a distinctive‘avant-garde’ theatre audience to these out-of-centre places. And consider the pop musicscene, moving instead from the ‘margins’ tothe ‘centre’, as in the case of the TilburgVeemarktkwartier. Moreover, whereas artis-tic production has always been associatedwith more or less alternative or marginalspaces, some of the clusters, such as theVeemarktkwartier, indicate a conscious at-tempt to bring innovative cultural productionmore closely towards the centre of the city.Hence, the clusters can partly be seen as anindication of shifts in the interrelatedfiguration of spatial and cultural hierarchieswithin the post-industrial city. This is not somuch an issue of the disappearance of cul-tural/spatial hierarchies per se, but of thesehierarchies becoming more unstable, com-plex and difficult to read (Holt, 1997;O’Connor and Wynne, 1996).

The former is not intended as an exhaus-tive list of the different characteristics in-volved in place-based strategies of culturaldevelopment. Others could have been added,depending on the perspective involved.Nevertheless, the characteristics form a clearillustration of the fundamental complexityhiding behind the common umbrella of clus-tering strategies. On one hand, it is clear thatsome common and general features are in-volved. On the other, it is also clear that weshould be cautious about generalising toomuch from the developmental path of singlecases. Neither simple universal model build-ing nor incremental case description willhelp very much in understanding what isgoing on. The prototypical ideal or ‘norm’seems to be the one where cultural clusterscater for dense project-based intraclustertransactions, both horizontally and vertically,and both traded and untraded. These transac-tions develop as part of close face-to-facecontacts between cultural professionalswithin an independent cultural community,accommodated within a self-managed andemotionally charged urban environment (a

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building complex, a quarter, a street). Ac-cording to Scott (2000) such agglomerationsproduce three primary benefits: they reducetransaction costs, accelerate the circulation ofcapital and information, and reinforce trans-actional modes of social solidarity. However,in reality, projects differ a lot from this pro-totypical ideal, not only in the compositionof their activities, but also in the way theyare developed, managed and financed. Mostof them are rather consumption- instead ofproduction-oriented and, where production iscentral, clusters have not (yet) developed tothe point where intracluster transactions or asharing of information and markets is ofgreat significance. Mostly, what we see isa more or less planned geographical con-centration of functions, with a more orless strongly shared cultural image and/oridentity, but without much collective self-governance and without much intraclusterexchange.

Whether or not this deviation from theideal is a problem depends on the actualmotives behind the cluster developmentstrategies. What is driving these strategies? Isthis indeed primarily about stimulating cre-ativity and innovation, or are there differentmotives and interests, and hence differentmodels involved? How coherent is the clus-tering strategy anyway? What different per-spectives can be identified?

Creating Cultural Clusters: Disentanglingthe Discursive Knot

Taking a closer look at the variety of publicjustifications formulated in favour of theaforementioned clustering strategies, no lessthan five different discursive fields can bedistinguished. Justifications and legitimationsstemming from these different fields aresometimes used in coalition with one an-other; sometimes they turn up as opposingarguments in the evaluation or positioning ofthe projects concerned. Together, they givea good overview of the mixed ‘task-environment’ in which urban cultural poli-cies today operate and in which former mod-els of both cultural and urban development

policies have come under pressure (without anew coherent model replacing them).

Strengthening the Identity, Attraction Powerand Market Position of Places

A first and most common discursive field tiesthe cultural clusters not to motives of creativ-ity and innovation, but to place-positioningstrategies and the related revitalisation ofurban space. This has been a clear driving-force behind both the museum quarter devel-opments in Rotterdam and Utrecht, and thecreation of the Tilburg Veemarktkwartier.All three projects received their publicmoney by pointing at the critical role theywere supposed to play in attracting attention,and thus economic activities, to themselvesand the surrounding areas.

At stake is a next phase in the on-goingrivalry between places and facilities for,amongst other things, a physically, mentallyand socially more mobile audience of cul-tural consumers/tourists. Technological de-velopments in the field of transport andcommunication, the general social and econ-omic mobility of the post-World War IIpopulation, the destabilisation or de-institutionalisation of former taste hier-archies; together with the proliferation ofconsumer products and leisure activities: allthese developments have significantly alteredthe potential field of activities of larger sec-tions of the population, both in a cultural andin a spatial sense. However, this expandingfield of possibilities has to be covered with acomparatively stagnating amount of leisuretime (van den Broek et al., 1999). Hence, amore hectic competition amongst possiblesources of experience and fascination, suchas between various inner-city destinationsand their cultural facilities, and between cul-tural and (other) leisure facilities for the at-tention of a more mobile and volatile,money-rich but time-poor audiences. Fur-thermore, the move towards hybrid culturalspaces, involving mixtures of cultural con-sumption and production, is also supposed tobe in line with further progress in theaffinities or taste preferences of a well-

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educated audience of cultural tourists, be-coming more and more sceptical of the‘slick’ logo-type urban spectacle develop-ment, and thus roaming European cities formore interesting, ‘authentic’ or ‘alternative’experiences. In the field of tourism research,this is already identified as a next stage in theon-going competition for tourists, from thealready-conventional model of ‘culturaltourism’ to that of ‘creative tourism’(Richards, 2001).

Moreover, Dutch society is experiencing aflexibilisation of the spatial ties betweenwork and home: the place where people workis no longer necessarily the place where theylive (Knulst and Mommaas, 2000). Becauseof that, the distinctive quality of places be-comes more critical in the attraction of resi-dents. Here, the local cultural infrastructureis thought to have a critical role to play,especially in relation to the ‘new middleclass’ (Featherstone, 1991; Martin, 1998)—adiffuse category of people, with a ratherheterogeneous and unstable taste pattern,mixing classical-intellectual and populartaste patterns (van Eijck, 1999; Wynne andO’Connor, 1998).

Looked upon from the supply side, thismarket-oriented competition between variousplaces/destinations is further increased by therelative liberalisation or ‘de-statisation’ ofeconomic space, the unstable mobility of theservice industries, constantly searching for aspatial optimisation of production, and theon-going competition between regions, re-sulting from that. This has increased the criti-cal role ascribed to ‘soft’ agglomerationfactors in the location choice of industriesand companies (Lash and Urry, 1994; Aminand Graham, 1997; Castells, 1996). Due tothe diminishing distinctive role of ‘hard’ ag-glomeration factors such as the availabilityof raw materials and cheap space and theaccess to the physical and electronic infra-structure, a former deterritorialisation ofeconomic activities is replaced by a reterrito-rialisation based upon soft agglomerationfactors such as the ambience, the quality andthe symbolic value of a place.

Within this erratic field of forces and dy-

namics, cultural clusters such as the MuseumQuarters and the Veemarktkwartier are pre-sented as an alternative imagery or ‘brand-ing’ strategy. They culturally ‘recharge’ thesurrounding urban space, reintroducing thatspace back into a wider market of urban-dwellers, tourists and investors. Because oftheir increase in mass and their combinationof functions, they stand out more strongly inthe middle of an increasing promotional‘noise’, produced by a broader, decentralisedfield of potential destinations and locations.Important here is the creation of synergiesbetween culture, leisure and tourism (muse-ums, theatres, cultural working spaces, cafes,restaurants, ‘interesting’ architectural spaces,the wider tourist infrastructure, retail), mak-ing use of a common physical and commu-nicative infrastructure. This enables a morespectacular, but at the same time localspecific ‘packaging’ or ‘branding’ of urbanexperiences, with branded spaces functioningas generalising markers, together with theirimplications in terms of property rights(Hannigan, 1998; Lury, 2000; Mommaas etal., 2000). Thus, these places are supposed toattract attention and with that further spatialdevelopment potentials. Here, cultural clus-tering strategies can be linked to, and under-stood as part of, the on-going‘spectacularisation’ (Debord, 1994) or ‘stag-ing’ (MacCannell, 1999) of urban ambienceor atmosphere in the context of a scaled-upcompetition for attention in a city that acts asdecor rather than function (Willey, 1998).

Stimulating a More ‘Entrepreneurial’Approach to the Arts and Culture

A second source of legitimation and argu-mentation is linked to transformations inDutch national cultural policy-making, aimedat a ‘revitalisation’ of the arts and culture. Atstake is an attempt to develop a more pro-active, outreaching attitude in the culturalfield, able to attract alternative financial re-sources, link in to new cultural forms andappeal to a younger and multiethnic audi-ence. Again, there is a mixture of back-grounds and influences involved. Basic is the

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feeling that the established public arts sectoris losing grounds in the midst of a fiercecompetition amongst the media, entertain-ment and tourism industries (the heart oftoday’s ‘experience economy’; see Pine andGilmore, 1999; Mommaas et al., 2000).

This feeling was first of all triggered byDutch research demonstrating how younger,post-1955 generations were turning awayfrom the classical arts (classical music, mu-seums, classical theatre, cultural heritage,etc.) as a source of cultural inspiration andaspiration (see, for example, Knulst, 1995; deHaan, 1997; de Haan and Knulst, 2000; seealso O’Connor and Wynne, 1996). Longi-tudinal research indicated that this could nolonger be attributed to the younger life-stageof those involved, with the expectation that itwould resolve itself automatically whenthose concerned would grow older and ‘learnto appreciate’ the arts. Instead, this was agenerational issue. Due to the specific social,cultural and media-technological circum-stances within which they grew up, post-wargenerations have developed different, morepopular and tactile, cultural affinities (deHaan and Knulst, 2000). For them, the classi-cal arts have been desacralised to the pointwhere they represent ‘just another’ leisureopportunity.

To begin with, these findings resulted innew programmes for cultural education,aimed at bringing school-children, as part oftheir curriculum, in touch with the arts (at thesame time producing much confusion aboutwhat these programmes should be about). Onthe other hand, these findings also raisedquestions about the lack of attention withinthe public sector given to new cultural formswith a stronger appeal to younger genera-tions. What about the pop music scene (theartistic new dance and techno scene), thefield of new media and digital culture (videoart, digital art) or the cross-overs between thearts and fashion, architecture and design? Inaddition, there were questions about the in-volvement of ethnic minorities in the sub-sidised arts, both in terms of consumptionand production. This again raised issuesabout the organisation of the subsidised arts:

the possible biased nature of criteria of excel-lence used in the evaluation of arts pro-grammes, the composition of art selectionand evaluation committees, possible socialand cultural biases in cultural policy pro-grammes and in notions of public culture andpublic participation, still dominated by aclassical-humanist cultural doctrine. At thesame time, new generations of art-makersand cultural producers were asking for sup-port from a subsidy system which had be-come increasingly pressurised, due to a lackof circulation.

Together, these considerations producedan atmosphere throughout the entire field ofthe arts and culture in favour of a more‘entrepreneurial’ approach. The subsidyregime had to be reorganised in order tostimulate, instead of stifle, the circulation ofartistic qualities. In addition, more attention,money and space were needed for new mediaformats, for the cultural activities of youngergenerations of ethnic minorities, and forbringing cultural activities outside the con-ventional walls of vested art institutions. Tofree that money, and to increase its publicreach, vested subsidised companies and insti-tutions like museums and theatres wereforced to increase their income from entrancefees. Last, a change in the national curricu-lum had to bring schoolchildren in touchwith the broader field of the arts and culture.Overall, the arts would have to become lesssupply- and more demand-oriented and, indoing so, make more use of alternativesources of support and income (technologicaland economic support structures, real estatedevelopments, market opportunities). Ac-cording to a national cultural policy report,written for the 2001–04 policy period, thechoice should not be for a defensive artsstrategy for the privileged, creating some-thing of an arts reserve in response to thethreat of the global leisure and cultural indus-tries, but for an offensive, entrepreneurialstrategy, able to explore new domains ofactivity and innovation, and for the creationof sustainable local/regional alternatives. Toillustrate this new line of policy, the policyreport points, amongst other things, to the

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Westergasfabriek in Amsterdam and theVeemarktkwartier in Tilburg. Both projectsare mentioned as examples of a more proac-tive approach to culture, in which differentart forms are gathered under one roof (Minis-terie OCenW, 1999).

Although this transformation in nationalcultural policy from a classical-humanistic towhat might be called a more sociologicalapproach was confronted with fierce oppo-sition from the vested arts establishment—itwas breaking with the age-old principle ofnon-interference in the arts and, at the sametime, reducing the arts to the status of acommodity with a quality to be lowered tothe greatest common denominator—in gen-eral, both the national Arts Council, acting asa national advisory board, and regional andlocal authorities went along with the perspec-tives formulated. At the local and regionallevels, these new perspectives coincidedrather well with aspirations aimed atstrengthening the position of regions and cit-ies as independent policy agents in a wider,transnational environment. After the SecondWorld War, local public spending on the artsand culture in the Netherlands has steadilyincreased. At the moment, the sum of localpublic spending on the arts and culture istwice the amount spent by national govern-ment (Pots, 2000). This does not mean thatnational spending has decreased, on the con-trary. However, in an era of a cultural ‘post-scarcity’ (see Giddens, 1991), the increase ofthe budget at both the local and the nationallevels does not seem to be able to prevent anincreasing pressure on the national/local sub-sidy system. The system finds it difficult tocope with the current change in the status ofthe arts, and the related diffusion of culturaltaste, and with the global/local restructuringof the field of cultural production/distribution(see also Looseley, 1999). Thus, it remains tobe seen which side of the new Janus-facedentrepreneurial model will become domi-nant: the side asking for a turn to self-sufficiency and the market, or the side askingfor more cultural democracy, diversity andopenness.

Meanwhile, the national policy guidelines

encouraged a more proactive and inclusivecultural policy approach, amongst otherthings implying a more entrepreneurial anddevelopmental attitude, together with a will-ingness to use culture for extra-cultural rea-sons, thus also tapping new financial andpublic sources for cultural activities. Here,cultural clustering strategies appear as part ofan arts-oriented revitalisation strategy, aimedat positioning the public arts and culturemore strongly within a more hectic culturalenvironment, characterised by the rise of glo-bal cultural industries, the commodificationof culture, changing taste paradigms and therise of new media formats. The clusteringtogether of various cultural forms and func-tions (both public and private, and bothclassical and popular) is supposed to stimu-late a more open, entrepreneurial and innova-tive attitude towards the arts and culture,both amongst producers and consumers, andboth economically and culturally.

Stimulating Innovation and Creativity

A third field of argumentation circles aroundthe aforementioned strategic importance ofthe ‘creative economy’ and the role of cul-tural clusters therein. These sentiments areclearly present in both the Veemarktkwartierproject in Tilburg and the Theatre Quarterproject in Utrecht. There are links here withthe aforementioned transformations in na-tional cultural policy and the strategy to useculture as an alternative source for urbanrevitalisation. However, at the same time,this field of argumentation adds somethingspecific to that. Involved is, on the one hand,a deeper understanding of the dynamics ofcultural or creative production in the widercontext of the global/local cultural industries.Central here is the on-going ‘culturalisation’of the economy, the establishment of a‘weightless’ economy of communication andinformation, and the critical importancetherein of the so-called creative economy(the economy of ideas, experiences, design,organisational concepts; see, for example,Waters, 1995). On the other hand, this can belinked to the notion of the ‘creative city’; a

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city able to adjust itself permanently tochanging conditions in the global economy,involved in recurrent cycles of innovationand regeneration (see, for example, Verwij-nen and Lehtovuori, 1999; Landry 2000).

As pointed out by O’Connor (1999) bothdevelopments—the growing importance ofthe cultural or creative economy and theon-going necessity for urban innovation andrenewal—are bringing economic and culturalpolicy at a more strategic level. Crucial forboth the local creative economy and localurban renewal is the conscious creation/stimulation/nourishment of sources of cre-ativity and innovation, and it is here that theabovementioned cultural clusters are thoughtto have a role to play. Cultural clusters areseen as stimulating in various ways thedevelopment of a ‘critical infrastructure’,able to function as an on-going source/environment for artistic/cultural/economicimagination and innovation. First, in varioussenses, the clusters are expected to create alocal climate favourable for creative workersto work in; thus, for one thing, keeping artsand design graduates in the city for a longerperiod. Secondly, if functioning well, theyhave a wider symbolic and infrastructuralspin-off, which will attract other creativeworkers, from theatre directors and design-ers/architects to musicians, and informationand communication specialists. In a moredirect sense, the clusters are expected tofunction as contexts of trust, socialisation,knowledge, inspiration, exchange and in-cremental innovation in a product and ser-vice environment characterised by highlevels of risk and uncertainty (Banks et al.,2000). Subsequently, if successful, the clus-ters might work as a brand, a spatial identity.A cluster’s symbolic value as an interestingplace delivers a market advantage for thoseworking in it or in relation to it (van Bon,1999). Thus, the model carries a resemblanceto famous icons of bundled creative inno-vation such as 1960s Rive Gauche, 1970sSoHo or 1980s Silicon Valley.

Here, the model can be linked to moregeneral economic policies, aimed at creatingplace-specific advantages for innovative

SMEs (Simmie, 2002). However, whatmakes the field of cultural production specialis the symbolic and thus volatile orephemeral character of the products and ser-vices produced, and the way these depend onthe on-going creativity of individuals, em-bedded in loosely organised networks of peo-ple with a similar lifestyle and background(Bilton, 1999; Banks et al., 2000). Thus,much will depend on whether or not theplaces concerned will be able to deliver thecritical mixture of spatial, professional andcultural qualities with which artists and othercultural producers and entrepreneurs want toassociate themselves, both on a personallevel, in terms of their lifestyle politics, andon a professional and business level.

In this context, it is important to note howfamous creative quarters such as 1900sMontmartre, 1960s Rive Gauche and 1970sSoHo were never planned as such. Instead,they developed more or less spontaneously,out of favourable conditions only identifiedretrospectively, conditions which were, inmany ways, related to their status as mar-ginal spaces. Also, many of them had arather transient character. Their cultural suc-cess triggered social, economic and institu-tional processes which struck at the roots oftheir very success as alternative spaces ofcreativity and innovation (Zukin, 1982;Frank, 2002). However, while this may leadsome to conclude that, given their anti-establishment, marginal or transient charac-ter, the planning of creative environments isimpossible, others point to the changingcomposition of the field of cultural inno-vation, with a variety of developmental pathsand models, borrowing from a mixture ofbackgrounds: from the archetypal counter-cultural model of Bohemia, to the more busi-ness-oriented model of new media anddesigner start-ups. Besides, while public pol-icy may not be able to organise creativemilieus directly, there still is the feeling thatit can at least create conditions favourable forthe coming into being of an open and decen-tralised infrastructure of working places.These could be situated in culturally ‘rich’environments and surrounded by a loosely

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organised economic, technological and pro-fessional support structure—for instance,linking the arts and design schools withplaces of cultural consumption/presentation(theatres, music halls, galleries) and pro-duction (alternative working and/or ‘breed-ing’ places) (see, for example, Verwijnenand Lehtovuori, 1999).

Here, cultural clustering appears as astrategy to create favourable conditions forartistic/cultural growth and renewal in thecontext of a wider (global) culturalisation ofthe economy and a related economisation ofculture. This is because cultural clusters andthe related agglomeration effects, are sup-posed to stimulate the kind of spatial, socialand economic logic on which the field ofcultural and creative production depends, afield mainly consisting of micro businesses,involved in the production of highly sym-bolic and ephemeral products and services ina rather risky, open and dynamic environ-ment (Amin and Graham, 1997; van Bon,1999; Bilton, 1999; O’Connor 1999; Verwij-nen and Lehtovuori, 1999; Scott, 2000).

Finding a New Use for Old Buildings andDerelict Sites

A next field of motivation and argumentationlinks the cultural cluster strategies to theincreasing popularity of heritage culture. Atstake is a search for a cultural and economicre-evaluation of the local vernacular, includ-ing its historical landmarks and derelict sites.Both the post-Second World War turn froman industrial to a post-industrial economyand rationalising developments in remainingindustrial sectors have made an entire 19th-century industrial infrastructure of harbourareas, shipyards, warehouses and industrialproduction plants redundant. In addition, dueto technological developments in the militaryfield and the end of the Cold War, there is theredundancy of an already older military in-frastructure of harbours, hospitals and gar-risons. Additionally, Dutch society has alsoexperienced a profound secularisation pro-cess, creating a surplus of churches, conventsand monasteries. Last, new ideas about and

technological developments within the caringsystem have made empty an entire infrastruc-ture of 19th-century hospitals and sanatori-ums. During the 1950s and 1960s, in thecontext of a further modernist turn in spatialplanning, economic development and archi-tectural design, large parts of this 19th-century infrastructure were destroyed inorder to create the rationalised service city.Today, in the context of increasing interur-ban and interregional competition, a post-modern celebration of diversity and a relateddemand for place-bound identities, the 19th-century heritage infrastructure is back on theagenda. Now, the search is not for a ‘creativedestruction’, but for a new economic use,able to sustain a historical infrastructure val-ued, amongst other things, for its symbolicand economic potential.

Increasingly, the areas concerned areturned into centres of a new ‘post-modern’infrastructure. Former warehouses, monaster-ies, factories, steel works and coal mines,prisons and hospitals, sometimes occupiedby a counter-cultural movement of squatters,students and artists, are brought back on thereal-estate market and turned into apartmentbuildings (‘loft living’), office spaces, hallsof events and entertainment and/or places ofcultural production and presentation (‘cul-tural incubators’). Combined with a relativelong period of economic growth, this ‘recom-modification’ of a formerly decommodifiedspace adds to an increasing pressure on realestate, especially in urban core areas, but alsoin other popular places such as harbourside,riverside or park areas. In some cases, this isalready leading to a shortage of workingspace for cultural producers.

Interesting here is Amsterdam. Due to theon-going expansion of the city in the direc-tion of the harbour area, redundant spaceswere successively converted into office,apartment and/or exhibition complexes. Ru-mour had it that, as a consequence, more andmore cultural producers were moving to Rot-terdam, a city known for its active promotionof new media culture. In order to protect itsimage as an open, creative city, the munici-pality of Amsterdam set aside around 40

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million euros, to be used for the creation ofcultural working spaces in and around thecity. At the same time, however, the citycontinues its expansionist development pol-icy, thus creating a lot of uncertainty withregard to its cultural policy motives. This isa clear indication of not only the market-driven and policy-mediated spatial pressurein cities such as Amsterdam, but also of theimportance attached to the presence of a‘critical cultural infrastructure’ maintainingthe city’s ambience or image of creativity,openness and/or cosmopolitanism.

However, while in some cities there is ashortage of 19th-century building heritage, tobe used for cultural production purposes,something which is stimulating the consciousre-creation/protection of such places, in otherareas local/regional municipalities are stillsearching for new cultural functions for heri-tage complexes, sometimes left in ruins fordecades. Also, as in the case of the Amster-dam Westergasfabriek, other factors such asthe level of soil pollution might prohibit asimple recommodification of property, thusfreeing space for alternative uses. Subse-quently, two paths of development are poss-ible. Most productive is the one where, at anearly stage, the cultural infrastructure findsits way to the building complexes concerned.This leaves the local municipality with thetask of formalising an original grass-rootsdevelopment. Here, much may be destroyedbut, at the same time, there are numerouspossibilities for safeguarding an existing cul-tural centre by creating subtle support struc-tures. An alternative, but much moredelicate, development path is where localmunicipalities are more or less forcing devel-opments by moving subsidised cultural func-tions to newly renovated areas. Here, culturalfunctions can get isolated from their localsupport network, thus gradually becomingside-tracked. Meanwhile, in both cases, cul-tural clustering strategies appear as a meansto create a new economic base for the reno-vation and maintenance of 19th-century heri-tage sites, thus linking in with the increasingsymbolic and economic value of heritageculture.

Stimulating Cultural Diversity and CulturalDemocracy

Whereas the former four fields of motivationand argumentation are more or less in linewith and supportive of dominant institutionaldevelopments, there is enough evidence for afifth, and more critical, one. Some of therelated argumentation can be found in policyreports surrounding the Westergasfabriekproject in Amsterdam, the Veemarktkwartierin Tilburg and the Theatre Quarter inUtrecht. Also, some of it has played a role inthe aforementioned turn in Dutch culturalpolicy towards new cultural audiences and anew digital cultural field. However, questionscan be raised about the role of these argu-ments in the final decision-making process.In general, the arguments appear to remainquite obligatory. They never really make it tothe forefront of the cultural clustering strate-gies analysed.

For this field of argumentation, we have togo back to the 1970s and 1980s and to whatoriginally triggered the idea for a new ap-proach in urban cultural policy-making inEurope, in the context of what was thenlabelled the ‘New Left’. At stake was arepolitisation of cultural policy-making,moving away from the cultural politics ofthe ‘old left’ which, according to some,restricted itself too much to pre-electronic,pre-20th-century, pre-technological and non-commercial forms of culture (see Bianchini,1989). The cultural policies of the ‘NewLeft’, analysed by Franco Bianchini in rela-tion to the Movimento in Rome (1976–85)and the Greater London Council in London(1981–86), had a few elements in common.First, they regarded the arts and culture notas neutral areas, but as important sites ofpolitics. Secondly, popular 20th-century cul-tural forms, far from being considered asmarginal or low, had become the focus ofpolicy-making. Thirdly, commercial culture,instead of being left to the private sector,became a model on which the state couldbase a new intervention in the cultural sphere(Bianchini, 1989). At stake were policiesdirected at the creation of new economic

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and cultural channels, enabling marginalisedyouth and ethnic minorities to present them-selves more strongly and independently inthe urban cultural arena. In order to be suc-cessful, these channels had to be based on thecultural and urban affinities of the groupsconcerned. This directed the attention almostautomatically towards the field of popular/electronic/urban/commercial culture (the cul-ture of urban festivals, dance, design, popmusic, fashion). An additional argument wasthat “for the public sector to have aninfluence … on ‘culture’ in its broadestsense, intervention must be directed throughnot against the market” (GLC, 1984; in Bian-chini, 1989, p. 38). Also, in order to breakwith existing cycles of dependency, thesechannels had to be organised outside theestablished subsidy system. Hence, a searchfor various unorthodox channels of culturalexpression (festivals, parks, activity centres),for forms of financial investment throughloans and equity rather than subsidies andgrants, and for new support systems, organis-ing training programmes and stronger mar-keting and distribution channels. Last, therewas the intention to develop a new aesthetics“which is not ‘traditional’, ‘ethnic’, ‘folk’,‘exotica’, but which is appropriate for whatneeds to be expressed here and now” (GLC,1984; in Bianchini, 1989, p. 37).

As said before, in some cultural clusteringstrategies there are some references to thissort of critical argumentation, but only spo-radically and in a fragmented way. So, forinstance, in the Tilburg case, Attak, a youthwork organisation, will get a place in theTilburg Veemarktkwartier. Here, Attak plansto develop a more ‘entrepreneurial’ approachto youth work, aimed at stimulating youth tocreate small cultural businesses based on ex-isting cultural affinities (graffiti, Web design,music, fashion). This could become a part ofthe existing cultural production and con-sumption network in the area, connected tothe activities of other players in the quarter(the pop cluster, the Tilburg arts foundation,new ICT companies). Part of the TheatreQuarter in Utrecht is the Berekuil, a newcentre for youth theatre, organised on the

basis of existing contacts between theUtrecht arts academies, small-scale youththeatre groups, youth theatre producers,youth centres in Utrecht, etc. In addition, theWestergasfabriek clearly functions as an ur-ban platform for different forms of culture(commercial and non-commercial, electronicand pre-electronic, ‘ethnic’ and ‘non-ethnic’)(re)presented in an inclusive, open culturalspace. Thus, it functions as an urban meetingand presentation place for parts of the Am-sterdam youth culture.

As these examples indicate, cultural clus-tering strategies can sometimes also be pre-sented as possible sources for culturaldiversity and democracy, organising analternative infrastructure of places and re-sources, breaking away from the establishedarts-policy regime and opening up an urbancultural platform for otherwise marginaltastes and groups. Spatially grouping to-gether a diversity of cultural functions, witha diversity of social, cultural and economicbackgrounds, might stimulate the accessibil-ity of the cultural field for a greater variety ofgroups and make available a greater diversityof subsequent channels of cultural expressionand development.

In various ways, the clusters analysed linkin with the discursive fields differentiated. Ofcourse there is an important instrumental el-ement in this. Arguments may fulfil an im-portant strategic role in gaining publicsupport. At the same time, however, phasedifferences in and the selective use of argu-ments tell us something about the positioningof the projects in a field of possible inten-tional and developmental options. Here, theVeemarktkwartier in Tilburg can be said tobe the most open and inclusive one, combin-ing arguments from all fields of argumenta-tion. Initially, the cultural managers involvedwere striving for the creation of a creativequarter around existing amenities, based onboth consumption and production functions.In the course of developments, urban revital-isation and cultural democracy argumentswere added, especially because of the relatedstrategic options. Also, the project develop-ers tried to incorporate as much of the built

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heritage in the area as possible, not onlybecause of the usefulness of the space, butalso because heritage culture imparted thevarious cultural activities and the cluster witha distinctive atmosphere and association. TheWestergasfabriek in Amsterdam started fromthe need to find a new function for a derelictindustrial site. Next, the management teamaimed at the creation of a vibrant culturalsite, mixing classical and popular culturalfunctions, and production and consumptionelements, thus building upon arguments ofcultural marketing, the creative economy anda democratisation of culture. The theatrequarter in Utrecht is based on both the avail-ability and attractiveness of a heritage siteand notions which stress the importance ofagglomeration factors in the stimulation ofculture and creativity. The development ofthe museum quarters in Rotterdam andUtrecht was primarily based on a combi-nation of urban revitalisation and culturalmarketing arguments. From there on, bothmunicipalities tried to link the quarters topossible cultural production functions in thearea, thus strengthening the cultural ambi-ence and urban embeddedness of both clus-ters.

Although it is possible to identify somerelations between the rationales adopted bythe clusters and the specific cultural, spatial,financial and managerial programmes re-lated, it would be wrong to turn these rela-tions into a generalised set of correlationalrules. Although a primary stress on placepromotion tends to imply a high level ofpublic-sector involvement with a strong top–down and consumption-oriented approach, asin the case of the Rotterdam and Utrechtmuseum quarters, this is not necessarily al-ways the case. Depending on local circum-stances, such as the specific culturalinfrastructure at hand, it may be the case thatplace-promotion strategies become associ-ated with a strong bottom–up support forsmall cultural enterprises.

The issue here is not so much that thenumber of cases researched is too small tocome to generalised conclusions. Instead, theissue is that local circumstances give room

and may ask for different combinations andtrajectories. The rationales behind the clusterprojects differentiated above and the relatedcluster characteristics make it clear that clus-ters come in very different shapes and formsand thus that on-going choices have to bemade and arguments developed, in cultural-political and in strategic terms. Cultural clus-ter strategies seem to be in a situation whereit is very much a case of learning and impro-vising when moving along. There are nofixed models (yet) and there do not seem tobe clear planning-based strategies of devel-opment. At the same time, the rationales andcharacteristics differentiated suggest some ofthe lines along which, in the future, clusterdevelopments might be assessed and choicesmade, thus deepening the level of develop-mental reflexivity. At what are cultural clus-ter developments supposed to be targeted?Are they primarily aimed at stimulating thelocal creative economy, revitalising the localcultural infrastructure, cultural marketing andthe revitalisation of place, increasing the cul-tural democracy and diversity, or finding anew use for heritage buildings? And, givenspecific local circumstances, what does thisimply for the possible vertical and horizontalcultural programme of the cluster, the type ofmanagement structure, its financial regime,its future developmental path and its spatialprogramme and position? These questionsbecome more pressing as the reproduction ofcultural values and of economic and spatialvalues become more interdependent.

When Culture Meets the Economic: TheArt of Tightrope Walking

The work of Sharon Zukin (1982, 1991,1992) undoubtedly represents one of themost comprehensive accounts of the chang-ing role of the arts and culture in contempor-ary urban development. Originally based onan analysis of the regeneration of SoHo NewYork, from a former textile industry site to aplace for ethnic and cultural use, and fromthere to a site for aesthetic consumption, herwork developed into a generalised critique ofthe role of cultural producers and consumers

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in the renewal of urban space. Here, innova-tive cultural producers and consumers arerepresented as symbolic trail-blazers, reintro-ducing marginalised urban places back intothe urban cultural landscape. At the intersec-tion between structural economic changesand sectoral group interests, the cultural in-frastructure is thus responsible for a crucialphase in the recentralisation or recom-modification of urban space, turning old andoften forgotten vernacular places into vi-brant, fashionable spaces. In the words ofZukin (1992, p. 242), these spaces are slip-ping and mediating between nature andartifice, public use and private value, globalmarket and local place, desire and control.Old warehouses, harbour areas, factory com-plexes, schools, monasteries, gasworks, mili-tary garrisons and working-class quarters aretransformed into a kind of “‘no-man’s land’open to everyone’s experience yet not easilyunderstood without a guide”. They are turnedinto liminal spaces, “crossing and combiningthe influence of major institutions: public andprivate, culture and economy, market andplace” (Zukin, 1991, p. 269). Mediatedthrough the increasing popularity of the artis-tic bohemian lifestyle, the increasing interestin culture in general and the contemporarysynergy between cultural and economic val-ues, this leads to a rise in the economic valueof the spaces concerned, in the end ironicallyforcing out the very artistic-cultural valueson which the trail-blazers’ symbolic workdepended. Thus

liminal space becomes a metaphor for theextensive reordering by which markets, inour time, encroach upon place. … bywhich a landscape of power gradually dis-places the vernacular (Zukin, 1991,p. 269).

Zukin’s critical assessment of the culture-based regeneration of urban space mirrorsthe scepticism often aired against the kind ofprojects illustrated above. These projects arenot primarily developed for the sake of thearts, it is said, but for purposes of spatial andurban development. They force the arts into arelativist discourse and strategy which alien-

ates them from their autonomous function asproducers/mediators of alternative or disrup-tive perspectives, questioning, reinterpretingand repackaging established viewpoints. Inshort, and despite the original intentions ofthose concerned, this is a strategy which willmake the arts fall prostrate before commerce,the market and vested political interests,turning the arts and culture into a com-modity, only to be appreciated in terms of its‘experience value’.

Significantly, in various projects describedabove, the closer interaction between culturaland economic values can easily be traced,together with the problems this is producingin terms of the conditions within whichartists and cultural producers have to operate.In some projects, like that of the TilburgVeemarktkwartier, the designation of thearea as a cultural quarter resulted in a rise inreal estate values, hindering developments.The Amsterdam Westergasfabriek has cer-tainly played a role in the rising popularity ofthe surrounding residential area, with theproject running the danger of becomingtrapped in the middle-class urban landscape.The conscious aim behind the creation ofboth the Rotterdam and Utrecht museumquarters has been to increase the flow oftourists to the areas concerned, thus stimulat-ing economic development. And of course,whatever the actual situation, this raisesquestions about how this is influencing theprogramming of the cultural spaces involved,including the museum exhibitions.

However, as previously highlighted, thisrepresents only one part of the story whichcan be told about the clusters involved. Theprecise conditions under which cultural andeconomic values meet differ considerably inthe different clusters. Cultural clusteringprojects can be developed for many differentreasons, some cultural, but others also econ-omic, social and spatial. As a result, thevalue transition itself also follows a varietyof specific trajectories, with a different roleand result for the local cultural infrastructureinvolved. There are different parties involvedhere, with different agendas, connecting theprojects to different strategies and within

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different time-scales. As O’Connor andWynne (1996, p. 75) have already madeclear, this diversity does not represent a situ-ation which can be reduced to a linear move-ment from the local to the global, fromproduction to consumption and from microto macro, in the end inevitably leading to theSoHo result. There is a danger here, that theanalysis does away too easily with the com-plex conditions under which the productionand consumption of culture and, in line withthat, the production and consumption ofplace, occur in today’s post-Fordist city. Thisnot only involves a closer interaction be-tween cultural and economic values in themidst of otherwise unchanged conditions, italso involves a change in the structural andcultural conditions upon which the validationand creation of both cultural and economicvalue depends. One of these changing condi-tions involves a growing uncertainty about,and plurality of, notions of artistic excel-lence, with these notions no longer fallingtogether with linear perspectives on the evol-ution of Western art, or with clear-cutdefinitions of what it means to belong to acultural avant garde, going together with therelated notions of refinement, abstraction,disruption, craftsmanship, originality. Theseand other distinctive cultural notions nolonger simply mirror and sustain a widerfield of oppositions, such as those betweencontrol and desire, the aesthetic and theemotional, reason and the sensory, the pri-vate and the public, the margins and thecentre, the local and the global, culture andcommerce, the refined and the banal(Schulze, 1992). Other, transverse,figurations have become possible, with partsof the cultural infrastructure seeking its inde-pendence and identity through rather thanagainst the market, with a new aestheticblending of local history and global form,with aesthetic and conceptual imagination,experimentation, innovation and authenticitybecoming important values in both con-sumer, organisational and product markets,with groups of new media artists celebratinga more pragmatic attitude towards publicand/or private resources, with highly edu-

cated consumers developing a more reflexivecultural attitude, celebrating cultural disputeand the playful mixing of identities and per-spectives (see Featherstone, 1991). This isnot only a case of otherwise equal structuralconditions allowing for more freedom at thelevel of local agency (the archetypal struc-ture–agency dichotomy), it is also—and per-haps even more so—a case of changingstructural conditions, in both the economicand the cultural realm. Economic and techno-logical developments have enabled an in-crease in communicative and physicalmobility, allowing people to develop theirown taste independent of an established na-tional elite. Besides, there is an expandingmedia-cum-leisure industry catering for alarger diversity of tastes. Together, these de-velopments have opened up national culturalmonopolies and desacralised the arts.

The collection of cases presented above isa clear indication of these structural transfor-mations and the more complex conditionswithin which cultural and economic valuesare created and exchanged. The Westergas-fabriek in Amsterdam cannot be identifiedsimply as either place or market, public or aprivate, cultural or commercial. It is both andfits easily into Zukin’s definition of a ‘limi-nal’ space. However, at the same time, thiscannot be read as forming part of an un-avoidable development from a state of ‘pure’culture, towards commerce and consumption,with that development destroying the culturalvalues which originally were responsible forthe place itself. This would not do justice tothe interests and struggles involved. For theteam managing the place, public and/or pri-vate resources have no intrinsic value. Theyare evaluated on the basis of the level ofautonomy they allow, thus enabling a mixedcultural programme, based on a mixed audi-ence and creating a productive place for cul-tural production/consumption. In fact, themanagement team cannot allow itself to be-come locked into either a purely commercial,or a purely public economic/symbolic pos-ition. This would discredit the open andautonomous character of the place, based ona mixture of small and large, local and

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global, handicraft and electronic, long termand short term, and would thus destroy thecultural ‘story’ on which it depends. Neitherpublic support nor commerce is an end initself here. Both are a means to maintain aspecific cultural autonomy and standard. Alsointeresting here is the Tilburg case, combiningon various levels (from the level of the indi-vidual projects to that of the quarter writlarge) a hybridity of financial structures(structural and project subsidies, loans andequity, sponsor contracts) and artisticparadigms (from the traditional arts to popmusic, the new media and design). Yes, theproject is experiencing the economic conse-quences of the increase in cultural value, butthis is reflexively taken up by public andprivate coalition partners as a matter of con-cern and there is an awareness of the fact that,in the long run, the economic value of theplace is founded on the very cultural valueswhich created the economic value to beginwith. Economic value is no neutral, emptyentity, allowing for a simple and non-consequential exchange of content. In thecontext of a more reflexive consumer econ-omy, in particular, economic value is increas-ingly based upon a specific cultural value,which does not always allow itself to bechanged easily. As a consequence, the part-ners involved in the Tilburg case also have aninterest in maintaining the cultural valuewhich originally founded the economic valueof the place. Hence, the urge to maintain anartistic image. As soon as rumour has it thatthe Veemarktkwartier has been handed overto other sources of economic value—for in-stance, by allowing large-scale cultural retail-ers to establish themselves in the quarter—theplace will lose its attractiveness to small-scalecultural producers, primarily responsible forthe creative ambience to begin with. The placewould lose its image of an open, innovativespace and the small producers staying wouldrisk their reputation as creative innovators.This would in turn seriously damage theimage on which a major part of the pop musicinfrastructure still depends. Thus, the declinein cultural value would produce a serious risk,not only for the private partners involved, but

also for the local administration which hasinvested heavily in the place, both politicallyand economically. As a result, and followingan extended reflexive awareness of this two-way dependency of cultural and economicvalue, the partners involved are searching forsubtle ways to safeguard the open character ofthe place, allowing for a constant movementof creative cultural capital. Much will dependon whether the existing coalition of public andprivate partners will be able to succeed indoing this.

On the other hand, while it is clear fromthis small collection of case studies that theinteraction between cultural and economicvalues allows for other models than the onerepresented by Zukin’s SoHo analysis, withthe possibility of a stronger role for the cul-tural infrastructure and the artistic valuesinvolved, it is also clear how Zukin’s evalu-ation reflects dominant sentiments, tendenciesand interests, and how alternative models willhave to be based on both a subtle andreflexive, but at the same time strong anddetermined, policy.

Crucial here is the flexible, ad hoc characterof the policies surrounding most, if not all, ofthe aforementioned clusters. Most of the time,this is seen as a strong point. Due to their‘adhocracy’ (Mintzberg and McHugh, 1985;in Bilton, 1999), the projects seem to be ableto respond to very different and constantlychanging local conditions and circumstances.Because of a lack of a coherent and consistentdevelopmental model, the projects are able tocircumvent conventional ways of doingthings, move into different directions, buildmultiple alliances with former oppositionalnetworks and organisations, and create port-folios of erstwhile differentiated activities.This makes them more flexible and adaptablevis-a-vis a more erratic field of urban and/orcultural developments. Hence, they embody aless universal and less standardised approachin not only the field of cultural policy-making,but also in policy-making in general, movingfrom a conventional welfare-state model to-wards ‘post-modern’ models of cultural/urbangovernance.

However, as Bilton (1999) has made clear,

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there are also limits to this adhocracy. With-out a coherent perspective and support sys-tem, there is the danger that the variousclustering projects and the related culturalvalues will remain marginal in relation to thedominant dynamics of both the vested sub-sidy systems and the global cultural econ-omy. In Tilburg, the Warner Music group hasalready found its way to the new Tilburg popmusic infrastructure, contracting successfulbands, thus possibly drawing away the rev-enues of the original investments. Moreover,the greater part of one of the stake-holders inthe area, Mojo Concerts, a national companyspecialising in the organisation and stagingof pop music events, is now owned by ClearChannel, a Texas-based global advertisementcompany. The question is how these widerdistribution interests will influence the futureof the local project. Also, a major insurancecompany, Interpolis, is claiming a bigger partof the urban space of the Veemarktkwartierfor an enlargement of its Tilburg-based headoffice. In Utrecht, the ‘Utrechtse model’,consisting of an agreed network between the-atre producers, the arts academy, local the-atre stages and the local municipality, is notrecognised as such by the national subsidyinstitutions. Hence, one of the key projects ofthe Theatre Quarter, the youth theatre work-place, is constantly in danger of not receivingenough support.

These are just minor examples of howvested institutional interests can very easilyfrustrate subtle local tactics, searching foralternative ways to exchange cultural andsocial, economic and spatial values. It isimportant here not to romanticise the small-scale and local production regimes. In orderfor these projects, and the models underlyingthem, to really be able to play a role in theline of developments, and to secure the cul-tural values implied, there is a need for amore robust institutional permanence and amore reflexive and strategic approach, notonly at the local, but also at the nationallevel, together with a more clearly targetedand better informed cultural policy develop-ment discourse.

Here, it becomes all the more important to

go beyond a generalised, self-evident ap-proach to cultural clustering strategies and tostart and differentiate more critically andstrategically between different possible per-spectives, both in terms of the wider goalsthese clusters are supposed to meet, and interms of the kind of structures necessary tostimulate or support their development. Cul-tural cluster programmes come with a greatvariety of possible forms and objectives. Ingeneral, they are both an expression and afurther stimulation of a broader ‘horizontali-sation’ of the arts and culture. A verticallyorganised production and consumptioncolumn, supported by national public policyand a rather tightly organised arts profession,is making way for a more horizontal, pro-cess-oriented development, based on abroader definition of culture, using a broadermixture of possible resources and linking inwith a broader network of interests. Clusterprogrammes are a spatial expression of this.They mirror attempts to find a new fit be-tween a more open and dynamic culturalinfrastructure and a more competitive,scaled-up, post-industrial urban environment.This can be conceived of in both negativeand positive ways. In practice, much willdepend on how those involved ‘read’ devel-opments and how they are able to fit in andsecure cultural values in relation to them.Stimulating the local cultural democracy anddiversity, a stronger positioning of cultureamenities and urban quarters, the revitalisa-tion and renewal of art and culture, finding anew use for cultural heritage, stimulating thecultural economy: these and other possiblerationales ask for different clustering strate-gies and different support structures, withdifferent spatial, financial and managerial ar-rangements and different links to differentparts of a wider urban environment. A morereflexive approach to cultural clustering de-velopments, from a comparative perspectivedifferentiating between possible develop-mental goals and trajectories, could help inmore clearly identifying preferred opportuni-ties, together with related cultural, spatialand economic support structures. As a result,this could take away something of the ‘hype’

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of cultural clustering strategies, also prevent-ing those strategies from becoming the objectof overgeneralised forms of either boosterismor scepticism.

Conclusion

Over the past 10–15 years, cultural clusterstrategies have developed into something ofan urban/cultural development ‘hype’. In ev-ery major city, cultural and/or leisure func-tions are grouped together in a great varietyof spatial forms and programmes. In general,the aim is for these cultural functions toprofit from each other’s presence in one wayor another. Hence, the cultural clusteringmodel represents an interesting turn in urbancultural policy-making, from a more exclus-ive, vertical and regulatory perspective, to amuch more inclusive, horizontal and stimu-lating perspective. The clusters mirror a situ-ation in which the cultural field has becomemuch more diverse and open, with the artsand culture not only being reproducedthrough the public, but also through the pri-vate sector.

However, as will have become clear fromthe foregoing, behind this common spatialstrategy, we see the emergence of a greatvariety of forms and rationales. The analysishas shown clusters to differ in terms of theirportfolio of activities, both horizontally andvertically, the way they are financed andmanaged, their programmatic and spatialposition within a wider urban infrastructureand their specific developmental trajectory.They can range from being mostly consump-tion to production-oriented, from predomi-nantly art- to entertainment-based, frombeing the result of top–down planning tobottom–up organic growth, from relying onclosed and hierarchical to open and network-based forms of finance and management.

Partly, this variety of forms can be relatedto a variety of rationales underlying theirdevelopment. Not all the projects have to dowith the archetypal promotion of local cre-ativity and the creative economy. Culturalcluster programmes serve a greater variety ofobjectives. Moreover, we see intentions rang-

ing from amenity and place-promotion, therevitalisation of the arts and culture and thepreservation of architectural heritage, to thestimulation of the local cultural democracyand diversity.

Interestingly, most of the projects analysedare not the result of a clear choice betweenalternative developmental models, based onspecific cultural objectives and a relatedevaluation of local and historical circum-stances. Instead, most of them are the resultof a rather eclectic coming together of locallyspecific opportunities, in combination with arather generalised notion of the possible roleof the arts and culture in the post-industrialcity. Because of that, no clear correlationscan be identified (yet) between the rationalesused and the models developed.

Partly, this ad hoc blending of argumentsand opportunities can be related to the shorthistory of cultural clustering policies. Thereis no clear tradition with an establishedclassification of possible strategic trajecto-ries. Partly this must also be related to thefact that cultural clustering models involvenew coalitions, clearly falling in betweenestablished cultural, economic, social andspatial policies. As a result, things dependvery much on local forms of enthusiasm andon fragile personal alliances across vestedinterests. In addition, there is the highly vol-atile and unstable character of the culturalsector itself, very much depending on subjec-tive knowledge and personal commitments.Because of that, the sector is less inclined tobe regarded as a possible stable object forplanning and investment.

On the one hand this highly subjective,personalised, open and pragmatic situationmight be celebrated as something suiting a‘post-modern’ complexity. Due to a decreas-ing influence of the binding structures of thecorporatist society, former planning-basedapproaches to urban reality have to give wayto much more open, flexible, dynamic anddevelopmental approaches. The current ‘ad-hocracy’ surrounding cultural clusteringstrategies could be celebrated as a productivepart of such a reflexive and ‘enabling’ turn inlocal policy-making. However, on the other

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hand, there is the danger that such an openand pragmatic attitude will in the end under-score the sceptics’ point of view. Due to aweak or hesitant involvement of the arts andcultural sector, a situation all too often at-tributable to a combination of a classical,inhibitory attitude towards the broader fieldof culture on one hand, and a boosteringapproach to urban economic development onthe other, other interests take over. This leadsto a self-fulfilling prophecy in which culturalvalues become more and more side-trackedor forced out by other, external values.

Of course, this does in itself not invalidatethe critical assessment of events, togetherwith all the possible artistic and/or culturalstandards involved. However, what it doesdemonstrate is how, in a situation in whichthe exchange between cultural and other (so-cial, economic) values has become morecomplex and unstable, the search for newforms of urban cultural governance can eas-ily be frustrated by a combination of uncleargoals, a lack of mutual understanding andinvolvement, overgeneralised models and in-hibitory attitudes. In order to prevent thisfrom happening, there is a need to develop amore reflexive involvement with culturalclustering developments, more clearly differ-entiating between possible objectives andprogrammes. The rationales and characteris-tics differentiated above might help in devel-oping such a more fine-tuned but at the sametime more determined perspective on multi-functional urban spaces, involving sustain-able links between cultural values and awider urban infrastructure.

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