i imagine slow mornings in my garden, sipping tea, as the sun bounces off my nose, my forehead, the rim of my glasses. i’m reading a cult classic, the birds singing high above. each element envelops me like a warm blanket. my surroundings are rich and full of life, and with each turn of the page, each ink mark on my thumb, an innate fondness of stopping, breathing, listening, reinforces and deepens my pleasure for existing in this moment.
the collins dictionary describes someone as being cultured if “they have good manners, are well educated, and know a lot about the arts.”
when i read this, i pulled a face. what does ‘knowing a lot about the arts’ mean? i KNOW about the arts, arguably, i know a lot about the arts considering i did both my degree at ‘arts’ universities and currently work in publishing. i see myself as creative and go to an art class each week. so why do i not feel cultured, despite opening myself up to activities that suggest i am?
i feel like an imposter, i feel like i’m living a lie. i feel like i’m pretending i know about all these incredibly enriching fragments of society when in reality, i don’t know as much as i’d like. i’m worried to share what i really think because i’m fearful that other, more cultured people will laugh at me, disagree and then call me lazy.
i’m from a working class family in north east london, and the first to be formally educated past the age of 15. my family read to me from a baby and drilled the importance of education into me throughout my life. but we were only educated through the curriculum, and the library, which we visited every week after swimming. i remember my parents trying so hard to give us the extra curricular life that they never had. by the age of 12, i don’t remember a time where we were encouraged to learn past finishing our homework and revising for exams. i do not blame my parents, or my situation, this is a reflection on the reality of the times. my parents worked long, gruelling hours in public service jobs. they didn’t have time to take us out at the weekends or introduce us to new concepts. the actuality of the situation is that my parents tried to break the cycle, and they did the best they could. but wherever they lacked knowledge, that seeped down into us. if you have no money, no time, no education, you cannot expect to give your children more than what you have.
throughout my studies and work life, when i’ve questioned why i don’t know as much as my middle class colleagues, why i don’t know the names of poets, artists, authors, galleries past the most famous ones, i wonder what it means to be educated if you lack access to culture?
by lacking access to culture, i mean that i do not posses extensive access to it within my family or social circle, at least not past the classic lists. i’m ignorant to how to find other culturally important books, music, essays. i’ve googled it and the lists are just the canon. WHERE did joan didion come from, how did you find her? patti smith? eve babitz? i’ve just learnt these women’s names because i joined substack. i see young women are reading and expanding their worlds, becoming cultured and i wonder how i got left behind. why didn’t i come across this until now?
it’s embarrassing to admit as an english literature graduate who works in publishing that i don’t know, or haven’t read, these books. i don’t have any theory to support what i’m saying, and i feel inadequate for it. i feel like it’s my fault that i didn’t know there are these wonderfully insightful books that are gateways to understanding the world through an artistic lens.
i visited the courtauld with my aunt recently, and i never knew it existed. inside, she told me stories about manet, about cezanne and how their paintings would have been judged by contemporary critics. i didn’t even know these artists existed, let alone what the response would have been. but my aunt didn’t know these things either; she frequents charity shops and picks up art books, devours them.
i walked past ‘the photographers gallery’ in soho in january. i only came across it as i was avoiding oxford street on my walk to the tube. i didn’t think twice about it until i thought about going to an exhibition after work. so last week, i googled ‘photography exhibitions london’ and the gallery i’d walked past popped up. i booked a ticket to visit. but how do people know about all the other tiny galleries in london or the exhibitions that showcase small, important art? do you just walk around until you find them? pop in? i’ve just googled ‘culture magazines’ and came across a few. maybe i need to subscribe and read more print to learn more. maybe i should get an art pass. maybe i do weekends wrong. instead of wandering around and into the nearest gallery, i’m often in tesco or doing another load of washing. how do others find time for personal admin alongside a 9-5 and still become ‘cultured’?
last night, on the way back from my art class, i listened to 5 seconds of summer. those songs have me singing and smiling the whole way home; i loved them as a teenager and it felt good to reminisce. my thoughts slowly drifted and i wondered what other people listen to. i listen to a lot of jazz, lofi beats, but i’m not familiar with more interesting musical artists. before people say that you should ‘listen to whatever you like’, this is my predicament:
what if i like something that i haven’t yet found?
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thanks for reading, this is my second post. i’m enjoying writing these immensely! Are you free on Thursday? If so, subscribe and you’ll get a new post every week x
We should do art gallery meet ups 🎨