My long-postponed visit to the Groninger Museum caught me by surprise. About to wave my pretty student card and effortlessly enter the exhibition for free as I did a year ago, I was brought back down to earth by a polite request to pay ten euros. The urge to see the ongoing Van Gogh show and enrich my dull existence with some culture won over the creeping greed. However, that rather small fee solidified a bigger fear I’ve been carrying for a while: the direction we’re heading in when it comes to art, access, and what we value.
From a short chat with one of the staff members, I found out the museum had to implement this fee due to the lack of funding. I also found out I wasn’t the only one caught off guard. Apparently, it is not uncommon for students to turn around and leave when they hear they have to pay. And honestly, I get it. Even ten euros can feel like a luxury when living off instant noodles and UB coffee.
Clearly, it’s not the museum’s fault. Institutions like these are often the last link in a long chain reaction, trying to stay afloat while decisions are made far above them. Still, there’s something quietly devastating about the idea that a place that once deliberately and successfully pulled students into its world now unintentionally pushes them away.
When crisis looms, art and culture get cut first. Because who cares about art when a recession might be around the corner, right?
It is also not just about this one museum visit. Across the board, the direction of the culture is shifting—and not for the better. Art faculties face major changes and unwanted mergers that threaten the quality of programs for both students and professors. Cultural festivals and spaces fight to stay while trying to at least keep their core team and pay them fairly. Entire projects and initiatives simply cease to exist.
At the same time, none of this is new. It’s almost a tragic rule: when crisis looms, art and culture get cut first. Because who cares about art when a recession might be around the corner, right? Yet, when things get tough, people do like to run away from a grim reality, at least for a bit. The imperfections of paintings, whimsical books, soul-touching films, nostalgic music, addictive series, and any other creative manifestations provide them with something to cherish without them even fully realizing it sometimes.
Culture gives us places to hide, reflect, and recover. Just like a complex ecosystem, it is alive and deeply interconnected. It demands presence and participation. And maybe that’s where my unease really stems from. That small fee is just an indication of systemic issues that can lead to sadder outcomes. Suppose even students stop interacting with real art when the entire field is already struggling, as flawless AI-generated content overfloods our lives with brain-rot. In that case, we might have no ecosystem to cherish very soon. Not one that breathes, anyway.
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