on the social arts scene and cultural capital

on this and that, #1 May 2026

I’ve been in warm rooms. I’ve been in cold rooms. I’ve been in rooms where people welcomed me with open arms, rooms where I felt safe, and other rooms where, to put it plainly, I’ve felt the complete and utter opposite. What did all these very real rooms have in common? They were all events related to or celebrating the arts in one way or another, and this Sunday, I would like to explore a dichotomy that exists within the Australian social arts scene.

One fateful Saturday, a millennia ago… I found myself at an experimental visual art event in the middle of Brunswick, Melbourne: a ‘location tba’ BYO venue that was famous (or infamous) for how it managed to get by without getting shut down, given it had no liquor licence (it has since been shut down). We heard about it from my housemate’s girlfriend, who urged us to come along. Entering through the slit in a massive white sheet plastered in light projections, we were propelled into what seemed to be the ‘place to be’ this fine Saturday evening. My housemate grabbed my arm and gave me a I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore look, which, to this day, feels ironic, because we all literally lived 5 minutes up the road. Everyone and their mother were there. Aside from friends, I saw my local barista, friends-of-friends’ cousins, many-a-failed hinge situationships, old high school people, some of whom I said hello to, some of whom I didn’t (I’ll let you figure that one out xx). And on top of that, the actual venue was pretty sick. Once past the magical sheet you entered an alleyway with wide open doors allowing access to the main room inside. Run-down couches and places to sit were littered around, as well as moody lighting and paintings on the walls. In the centre of the main room, brilliantly lit up by overhead white lights, was a person “breastfeeding” a fake baby doll. 

Amidst my excitement over the various visual stimuli, I turned to my housemates, expecting them to share my childlike whimsy. Unfortunately, their tense postures and nervous glances side to side gave me an inkling that they were not having the same experience that I was; if anything, they were having an opposite one. I asked them if they were ok because they looked uncomfortable, they both shrugged their shoulders, one of them eventually revealing that she felt like she wasn’t:

“cool enough to be here”

I hate THAT. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. And to be honest that moment is most likely the reason this night is burned into my brain in the first place. I know I’ve felt that way, and after I saw the impact it had on my closest friends, it made me really want to interrogate why. Years later, I believe the answer lies in Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of cultural capital. Simply, Bourdieu’s theory explores three types of cultural capital: Embodied Cultural Capital (the internalised and often subconscious knowledge, skills, attitudes, and dispositions that shape how individuals think, speak, and behave), Objectified Cultural Capital (physical objects that an individual owns and can use to demonstrate their cultural knowledge or taste) and Institutionalised Cultural Capital (academic credentials recognising an individual’s cultural knowledge and competence). Cultural capital is not something we are born with, rather it is acquired over time in how we are socialised through family/home life, work/school and social environments/geographic location. For a film example, NOT Australian (sincere apologies) BUT I do think of Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut. Despite being financially well off, Bill Harford (Tom Cruise) lacks embodied cultural capital to fit in with the elites at the sex partay, and therefore gets caught out almost immediately, as he doesn’t inherently know how to behave in such an environment i.e. bro hired a costume and got a taxi to the elite sex partay 😔(I would have got PT 🤡) 

Additionally, re: institutionalised cultural capital, I want to acknowledge how financially exclusive tertiary education in the arts is. It will come as no shock that, as a direct result of the income instability of the industry (paired with a cost-of-living crisis in Australia), many people from lower socio-economic backgrounds are frequently deterred from studying an arts or fine arts degree. Most people who pursue arts and fine arts degrees throughout Australia come from middle-class, metropolitan backgrounds. 

I believe this exclusivity trickles down to the inherently and often subconsciously classist nature of the social arts scene.

Anyone in my life who I am remotely close with has been privy to my arts scene can sometimes feel like the antithesis of the arts spoken word essay. I am very privileged to have grown up in an arts institution, trading in my most formative years and a formal high school education for 3 diplomas in dance in elite performance 💅 (at the cost of psychological and financial turmoil #luvuVETloan), and although the national ballet school had its downers (avid Dance Academy fans rise up) it taught me that vulnerability plays a huge role in what’s required to not only be able to make powerful art, but to be able to put your labia flaps (we are making it happen) on the line and get out on stage (almost butt ass naked half the time) in an attempt to make the audience feel something. 

The inherent exclusivity of certain social arts scenes (I said certain, not all) is the complete opposite of the vulnerability and façade erasing that, in my opinion, is required to actually make something beneficially impactful; essentially (imo), you need to feel socially safe amongst your collaborators to make progressive, impactful stuff, and when one feels judged, excluded and irrelevant, my guess is they don’t feel very socially safe. I want to reiterate that I do not believe any one person is to blame for this, but rather it is worth noting, to reflect on how we observe and engage with others in certain social arts environments.

Now that we have explored the very real exclusivity of the scene through access to cultural capital, where does that leave us, because I (apparently have become an optimist) don’t believe the social arts scene has to operate this way. I have been super lucky to have the opportunity (traumatising or not) to have grown up in the arts scene, and therefore have been socialised into ‘fitting in’ to certain environments (however I have still very much felt how my housemates felt that night, so really, no one is safe). 

I’m going to be so real. In the context of the Saturday evening I described above, my housemate, who felt she couldn’t engage with the scene for lack of perceived ‘coolness’, is very involved in the arts scene. However I believe her belief that she ‘didn’t belong’ came from her self-identified lack of embodied and institutionalised cultural capital, enlightening me to consider:

How much of this exclusivity is self-determined?

Genuinely some of the most powerful, liberating and life changing things I have worked on, performed in, etc have required the upheaval of these classist ideals. Everyone I collaborated with brought their own vulnerable selves to the table to cultivate a safe environment, one that wasn’t going to judge you for your perceived cultural capital (or lack thereof). This is why I am so passionate about enabling access to and inclusion in this industry, even in (especially in) social settings,  as I do truly believe through shared love of the arts we can achieve social cohesion. (let me be an optimistic FUCK for once pls)

Now, I’m not denying that cunts exist. They walk among us. I might be one of them 😛. Some people would rather look cool than make someone feel included and it can be as simple as that. Again, some. So, next time you are drinking a Suntory -196 Lemon 10% (shut up sorry it’s not some niche pet nat wine) at an arts event, looking into the eyes of a plastic baby being pseudo-breastfed onstage, perhaps reflect on how much of your comfort (or discomfort) in said environment is based on your access to cultural capital. And perhaps, do what you can to avoid judgments towards others based on the same arbitrary constructs. Who knows? They might be the diverse voice and perspective we need right now in the arts the most. 

references

Widening The Lens: Social inequality and arts participation. (2025, June 27). Creative Australia. https://creative.gov.au/research/widening-lens-social-inequality-and-arts-participation?utm