Europe, America and the Atlantic Bridge

When Wim Wenders, a brilliant German filmmaker, returned to the European continent after a few years of living in America, he was led by the unclear, yet persistently present belief in the crucial difference between the European and American “forma mentis”. The return of Wim Wenders, contrary to the drowning of his colleague director Volker Schlendorf in the Hollywood’s industrial labyrinth, suggested his personal and, in particular, his artistic preference. No wonder. Wim Wenders’ wonderful film meditations wherein he sought to uncover some kind of existential meaning in the age of electronic images, have represented a distinctive part of the European cultural landscape for more than twenty years. Nevertheless, Wim Wenders shoots his films for his own “Road Movies” production house, whereby the name itself clearly discloses the American inspiration. With regard to the substance of the films, Wenders’ collected works originate in a radical movement started in Munich and is known as the “new German film”. Today, alas, few remain knowledgeable about this movement.
That’s understandable. We live in a historical moment which only requires participation in the “perpetual now”. The obsession with the present is, after all, the main force that drives corporate capitalism and the American mentality. To have it, to have it all, to have it all today: this is the imperative of a country in which history is but of little importance. The United States of America were created on the basis of escape from history and its cultivation of prejudices. The emigrant experience that defines the American life is the experience of individuals forced to keep a distance between yesterday’s ritual, determined by a archetipal formula, on the one hand and today’s promise of happiness freely available to anyone because it is constantly evading, on the other. The American culture is still defined by the paradox Alexis Tocqueville so eloqeuently described a century and a half ago. Democracy and mercantilism imply that while anyone wealthy enough can afford a life-style of aristocracy; yet no one can be king.
Instead of the weight of history and the capital of blue blood, the Americans, who are emphatically not familiar with the aristocratic tradition, have successfully created the hierarchy of financial capital. This, in turn, enables affiliation with the elite whose social status is changing with the appearance of each “nouveau riche”, whose pockets are warmed by the platinum American Express card. In this context it is not unusual that, in accordance with the imperative of being focused on the “perpetual now”, cultural industry has developed into a painfully beautiful and relentlessly fascinating country, in which I lived for half a decade, received an academic title, published a few books This is also the country my wife comes from and, least but not last, the country in which I am writing this article. The mythology of life “made in America”, widely supported by well-promoted films, books, paintings and TV series watched by the majority of the planet has efficiently brought this “permanent now” home, that is, to all corners of the world. This is done – one has to admit – in an exceedingly attractive way. What’s the main character of this mythology? Freedom, modernism, democracy, a possibility to start life and career anew, unlimited opportunities for imaginative and courageous spirits. This mythology, however, is available to us only by means of consumer goods.
The logic of the market, in which the product is to be sold successfully if it is to be considered aesthetically valueable, is certainly perverted. Today, it defines the entirely “natural” global logic. In trans-Atlantic dialogue, many European authors reject this yoke of the market forces with unyielding determination. Such a stereotypical response of the cultural Europe to the American predominance, however, uncannily reminds me of the response of intellectuals from the countries of the former “Warsaw Pact” to democracies which sprung up after 1989 – the annus mirabilis. They are insulted and marginalised. Their yesterday’s dissident critique advocating personal dignity and risks in the name of freedom are not highly thought of today. In the emerging democracies, which these intellectuals so unselfishly helped to establish, the fervent wish for political freedom also presupposes another, in my opinion unattractive and poorly respected freedom. It presupposes uneasy freedom in which our books are not being read by the large public, our political ideas not being taken seriously and our moral and aesthetic values not being taken into serious consideration any longer. Like the East European intellectuals and artists became helpless “beautiful losers” after the defeat of communism, Europe, too – as the personification of rich cultural sophistication – today more than ever seems helpless and confused. When faced with the grandiose commercialisation of the world orchestrated by highly skilled American trade, the European “habits of the heart” collapse under the weight of what is often defined as American “cultural colonialism”.
At the same time it would be, however, difficult to claim that America has just been taking from Europe (sophistication, genres and forms of artistic expression, manner, etc.). One has to consider the fact, too, that America has also given Europe many things. American pragmatism was above all a liberating experience. It contributed to dissemination of a cosmopolitan spirit that is in principle blind to one’s ethnic, linguistic, and religious identities. American way of doing things has been for better or worse widely recognised in the remarkable acumen of blending diverse traditions into a new whole. In view of this atmosphere, the European countries could not simply go on comfortably enjoying their defensive, often narcissistic and unpalatably provincial life under the low arch of domestic sky. In fact, it is possible to argue that a highly praised, while rarely defined, specific distinction of Europe often meant a pretext for prejudice in accordance with which the “Europeanism” should automatically mean cultural superiority.
Such simple hierarchy of creatively strong Europeans and culturally inferior, but financially stronger Americans cannot be advocated since World War II. In the fifties, when the victorious and self-confident America with its systematic export of abstract expressionism, design, jazz and diverse entertainment industry was not only a military, economic and political super power. It also became culturally important. Since that time, the Atlantic has not only represented an ocean of separation: its waters partake in the rites of strengthening integration and the habits of mutual enrichment. From this particular point of view one might speak about the “Atlantic Bridge”. Often stale, narcissistic and uselessly beating its breasts of yesterday’s honours and sometimes limited European consciousness continues to receive a steady stream of strengthening elixir, great enthusiasm and revelation in the excess of body and soul with the assistance of this bridge.
America at its best brings Europe a kind of freedom from exactly that meditative, introspective and psychological focus which has many times induced paralysis despite the pinnacles reached in the European art tradition. I am firmly convinced that the Atlantic Bridge makes a two-way road possible, if not desirable. The individual author’s creative impulses – while critically facing different symbolic worlds – can only gain from cross-fertilisation. This kind of confrontation and cross however requires a good knowledge of both worlds, American nad European. What is known is not necessarily recognisable said Hegel. This does not mean, however, that the European public should simply be satisfied with the watered down diet of American mass culture. Instead of passive lamentations in the face of American prevalence, Europe should constructively seek access to those fruits of American imagination and critical thought that cannot be obtained in a kiosk of corporate journalism or on the assembly-line production of bestsellers and Hollywood soap operas. These fruits exist: we just have to recognise them. Relying on the established mechanisms of cultural distribution is not enough. European publishers, newspapers, film distributors, art institutes, galleries and museums, and selective support of individual state agencies could first learn from America what represents one of the primary myths of America: boldness and inventiveness.
After his return to Europe, Wim Wenders adapted a respectable American institution to his cultural and political needs – the Oscar film award. Having established a kind of European Oscar, i.e. Felix Film Prize, Wim Wenders tried to actively encourage European creative minds. At the same time, he attempted to make a stand against the domination of film kitsch that comes from a culture from which Wenders has drawn his most productive inspiration. To resist American commercial influence in an American way: this is the paradox of European culture at the end of the millennium. It ultimately summarises the ambiguous dialectics of attraction and resistance to America which I, for one, fully adopt.