The Heterotopic Cultural Garden of Metelkova
by Philip de Jong & Sofia Galli
Image by Sofia Galli.
“Utopia is a place where everything is good; dystopia is a place where everything is bad; heterotopia is where things are different.”
(Mead, 1996: 13)
In the centre of Ljubljana, the capital city of Slovenia, you find the Autonomous Cultural Centre Metelkova mesto, also known as Metelkova, an epicentre of artistic currents within a system of self-government, consisting of seven military barracks. The space was first commissioned by the Austro-Hungarian army in 1881. From the end of World War I and until 1941 Metelkova was used by the Yugoslavian army. Throughout World War II it was occupied by Italian Fascist and German Nazi troops. From 1945 to 1991 it was used by the People’s Army of Yugoslavia. Metelkova sprouted in a military context, but in 1993 it started to undergo drastic changes when it was declared independent by means of communal possession and occupied by a group of young activists, who wanted to protect it from demolition. Metelkova has since become Europe’s most successful urban squat (Niranjan, 2015). Here we seek to explore how Metelkova embodies Michel Foucault’s notion of heterotopia, that is, a space that is built in the world and yet disturbs the world because of its substantially different core. [1]
The squatters who occupied Metelkova appear to live on the fringes of society; yet, marginal groups are often fundamental to social change. It has been argued that:
“Radical youth movements have been a constant political factor in European cities since at least the 1970s. What has been their significance? What have they achieved? Traditionally, squatter movements have influenced urban development by their resistance to large urban restructuring plans. They have also influenced the cultural climate of many cities by using social centres and squats as facilitators for alternative music and art galleries. They have influenced the local political climate, by forming often sizeable activist scenes. And, at times, they have even played a role in national and international politics” (van der Steen et al., 2014: 16).
“Metelkova has built its image firmly on its artistic and cultural credentials. It’s autonomous, but not anarchistic; liberal, but not lawless” (ibid.). In fact, Metelkova is a place where rules are set and enforced. From a structural perspective, “the Forum, which acts as Metelkova’s sole decision-making body and deals with issues such as day-to-day maintenance, and building and infrastructure, is also responsible for artist workshop allocation and art funding applications” (Ntounis & Kanellopoulou, 2017: 2233). This shows that whilst Metelkova is different in its governance, it is not radically disconnected from the city. Even the mayor of Ljubljana recognises Metelkova’s importance for culture and tourism. This leads to illegalities being overlooked, but it also lessens its autonomy, since it makes Metelkova dependent on the consensus of the municipality (Niranjan, 2015). So, is Metelkova a heterotopia? And what actually constitutes a heterotopia?
Image by Sofia Galli.
Image by Sofia Galli.
Foucault writes that “we do not live in a homogenous and empty space … we live inside a set of relations that delineates sites which are irreducible to one another” (Foucault, 1986: 23). This theory of emplacement argues that the sites we live in, cross through and pass require from us certain capacities, virtues and actions to succeed in whatever success may be. [2] Places that require us to alter these modes of being are what Foucault names heterotopia. They subvert familiar relations between us and our surroundings, rendering those relations irrelevant and requiring us to reevaluate our experiences to discover new ways of being. Common examples are prisons, temples or the circus, but it extends far beyond this. These examples each maintain their own heterotopic effect, whether through drastically subverted social rules and systems, through an appearance of rare and foreign wonder or even through sacred rites and a disconnect from one’s present time (an effect Foucault terms heterochronia, overtly apparent in cemeteries or museums). Any space which juxtaposes other states of being (in places and relations) [3] can be considered heterotopic, so long it forces us to take charge and look at ourselves through a mirror.
One can already notice the broad application such a term may have; this did not escape its proponents, who acknowledged that almost anything can be a heterotopia. So the question of Metelkova is not about whether it qualifies as a heterotopic space, but rather: how does it operate against its collaborative ‘real places’ (on a spatial and/or temporal axis), to what extent is it effective in encouraging reflective shifts and how does it stand in relation to other heterotopia?
Before we move on, we should note something which looms over Metelkova as much as any other heterotopic space. This concerns the necessarily non-static nature of heterotopia. A heterotopia merely qualifies as such according to their ability to ensure the sense of the ‘other’. A space for people to be misplaced, to wander and let reflection emerge for change to take hold. However, the effective ability of a heterotopia is necessarily challenged as temporal and spatial elements can influence their heterotopic force. Foucault mentions the cemetery which over centuries has moved from the heart of the city to the outskirts. Here, the agents and spaces surrounding the cemetery have changed in such a way that its heterotopic essence shifted from the town centre where initiation, union and return occur, towards a demise hidden away by distaste. Though none of the intrinsic qualities of the cemetery have changed, its heterotopic effect has shifted and its prominence has faded.
Image by Sofia Galli.
The circus, too, stands apart in this case, as it often maintains its otherness through travelling. Especially before the current era, the circus would come into town, known only by those lucky enough to have witnessed its previous visit. Then, as its world became known by its surroundings, it moved on. In this way, the circus has been able to maintain its effect without having to radically change itself. Non-mobile heterotopias, such as cemeteries, prisons, Metelkova and others have no such luxury and must exist in relation to their lasting surroundings. Spaces such as these must assure a resistant heterotopology against normalisation, integration and other forms of erosion. To remain a heterotopia, a space must not only ensure ‘surprise’ as efficacious element – so as to move one to reassess their being from their previous inattentive coasting – but also uphold an appropriate relation to its surroundings so as not to lose its particular heterotopic relations.
Metelkova, whose heterotopic origin arose through squatting, has a static spatiality regarding its position in the city, but it still opposes political and neourban forces beyond its geographical borders through social and political activism. Additionally, its dismissal of intrusive urban planning has given it an unchanging aspect, which though immediately heterochronistic, can also impede its heterotopic effect through familiarity. As we will see, Metelkova pursues a broad heterotopic approach in face of this spatial issue, partly by ensuring its own internal heterotopia through plurality and change: it is this element which can not only ensure its future, but makes Metelkova an important part of the Ljubljana cityscape.
Every year, Metelkova hosts more than 1,500 alternative events which move along the lines of a variety of subcultures: theatre performances, underground concerts, disability workshops, LGBT club nights, etc. In 2006 Metelkova was declared a national cultural heritage site, which further protects it from destruction. Therefore, from a heritage point of view, Metelkova benefits from institutionalised labels and from the outside’s recognition of its cultural significance. It finds itself in a complex and ambivalent situation, wherein it is alternative, but operates within the blueprint of the neoliberal city. This raises questions concerning “how those active within Metelkova articulate its position within the web of urban conflict in which the site is embedded” (Siegrist & Thorn, 2020: 1837). Metelkova provides its heterogeneous users with a visualisation of an alternative mode of organisation and existence and, in order to do so, it accepts the compromise of being entrenched in the cultural fabric of its external system. Certainly, Metelkova offers the possibility to reflect upon the ways space can be reconfigured and assume a more diverse socio-cultural significance. The military history of Metelkova has been twisted to its antithesis, creating an anti-war arrangement converging towards the dissemination of subcultures.
Image by Sofia Galli.
Metelkova, as we can see, is heterotopically ambiguous because of its spatial dependency, being an integrated part of Ljubljana without the means to subsist by itself. Its dependency on Ljubljana and its integration into the cityscape may lead some to argue that it has lost its true heterotopic effect, but though its dependency on the city may indeed limit the extent to which Metelkova can oppose the outside world, this does not wholly remove its heterotopic ability. Even if the schism between heterotopic space and ‘reality’ is bridged by widespread recognition and inclusive marketing, to become known and part of such a ‘reality’ is another matter. Although it may seem to lose potency, much like hospitals or prisons, formal or superficial integration in no way immediately removes heterotopic effects. Surely these places, part and parcel of our known world, have not become so ordinary as to not force us to step into another space, a different sensation of relations? [4] Those for whom this heterotopic effect fades through regular participation as nurses, prisoners and their guards are much like the clowns, gymnasts and fire breathers in the circus; they are merely hosts and guides in these worlds so strange. The bodies and movements of these spaces and their surprising elements are what make these spaces heterotopic. It is in this sense that Metelkova remains a prominent heterotopic space: the essence of a place and its heterotopic component is defined by its ‘doings’, how it stands in contrast to other places, and the way we experience change between these structures.
Where the cemetery relies on our burial customs and the circus on the scarcity of its wonder, Metelkova has an intriguing formula to maintain its heterotopic effect. Starting out as a rejection of market expansionism, from the vacuum of militaristic powers, it remains an object in juxtaposition to expansive and intrusive forces. Not only in its locus, but also beyond its borders, Metelkova aims to create and aid similar movements. Naturally, the heterotopic effect of this will depend on the difference in ideals and the effect by which they lay bare other forces. In this way, Metelkova can find comfort in its heterogeneity. The heterogeneity of stakeholders, with different origins and aims, creates a space with a diverse range of insights enabling not only a broad scope of possible external heterotopic effect but also provides a platform for internal conflict and dialectic. Consider, for example, the garden. As a staple of a great house, the garden with its diverse form stands, in its difference, in perfect contradiction to the house. For instance, Chinese and Japanese theories see the garden and its art as “an activity that constructs a landscape in microcosm for the purpose of vitalizing the activities of people inhabiting the place” (Parkes, 2021: 173). The garden (as a place) and its composition (as activity, both intentional and unintentional) has the capacity to engage people and show them its contradiction to the real place (the house). The garden is heterotopic due to its abjection to the other, the real, while carrying shared elemental properties: both house and garden are different concepts when taken alone or in relation to one another. Therefore, though the static essence of Metelkova, just as with the garden, may be exposed and demystified, a heterogeneous composition aims to ensure an ever-different reactionary effect. And so, as long as it upholds a diaspora of diverging elements, Metelkova will be able to maintain its heterotopic status.
If anything, in any pluralistic democracy any such heterotopic effect must be praised, promoted, protected and perhaps even sought to be duplicated. It is in the conflict and confrontation of ideals that dialectic and reflection can take place, which are central to any well-functioning democracy. Metelkova finds significant strength in its heterogeneous nature and, since heterogeneity reinforces accessibility and vice versa, Metelkova allows for heritage to stem from multivocality – wherein voices coming from different choruses are given the chance to reinforce the harmony.
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NOTES
REFERENCES
Foucault, M. and Miskowiec, J. 1986. ‘Of Other Spaces’, Diacritics. 16(1), p. 22-27.
Mead, W. R. 1996. ‘Trains, Planes, and Automobiles: The End of the Postmodern Moment’, World Policy Journal. 12(4), p. 13-31.
Niranjan, A. 2015. ‘How an Abandoned Barracks in Ljubljana became Europe’s Most Successful Urban Squat’, The Guardian.
Parkes, G. 2021. How to Think About the Climate Crisis. Bloomsbury.
Ntounis, N. and Kanellopoulou, E. 2017. ‘Normalising Jurisdictional Heterotopias Through Place Branding: The Cases of Christiania and Metelkova’, Environment and Planning A. 49(10), p. 2223–2240.
