With the Winter Olympics now just a few months away, Turin, Italy's fourth largest city with about 2 million people, has been busy rediscovering its cultural heritage as it gears up for an influx of foreign visitors. It has taken its cue from cities such as Manchester and is busy trying to reinvent itself as a post-industrial leisure destination.
The capital of Piedmont has always been a place of contradictions, a legacy of its somewhat chequered past. The one-time royal seat has also been a financial centre, but is perhaps best known to the outside world as home to the Fiat motor group. As a result it's often unfairly dismissed as a one-company town, the Italian Detroit.
Like Manchester (and that other prominent Olympic city Barcelona), Turin has been keen to cultivate an international profile. Historically, the region has always had close ties with nearby France, and previous mayors have tended to look more to Brussels than Rome.
But the present incumbent, Sergio Chiamparino, is just as concerned with the city's standing in the rest of Italy, and is overseeing ambitious plans for urban regeneration to take it out of the shadow of neighbouring Milan.
Most of these ideas date from the early 1990s when a new political breed tried to start afresh after the 'mani-puliti' ('clean hands') corruption scandal that tore through the Italian establishment at the turn of the decade. The scrubbed-up baroque piazzas and porticos of the old centre now find themselves jostling for space with high-tech high-rises and an air of well-heeled chic.
A lively and progressive city, Turin is also home to about 40 museums, including the Museo Egizio (the Egyptian Museum), and the Museo Nazionale del Cinema (the National Museum of Cinema), which is housed in the iconic Mole Antonelliana tower (Turin was the birthplace of Italian film, though the industry moved to Rome in the 1930s).
In general terms, Italy's museums have always suffered from complacency. Blessed with artistic riches, little needs to be done to tempt in coachloads of eager tourists: there's no need for blockbuster culture here.
But the sector has been shaken by cuts in government spending. This has led to a burgeoning corporate culture and a growing tendency to look to the UK and US for know-how on marketing, merchandising and sponsorship.
The country increasingly uses lottery money to make up for its arts spending shortfall (Italy spends just 0.17 per cent of its GDP on culture). Since the mid-1990s, an average annual slice of £155m of lottery cash has been siphoned off for the arts (this is something of an Italian custom - Rome's Trevi fountain was funded by an early variant of the lottery back in 1732).
With no tradition of sponsorship, political patronage has often been the only way of finding extra finance, whether it's an orchestra, individual artist or TV channel. This can lead to compromises and potential clashes of interest.
Equally problematic is the tension between regional and national politics. With no unified national policy on cultural affairs, proposals can get lost in a mish-mash of town hall bureaucracy.
Piedmont, and Turin in particular, was quick to grasp the importance of streamlining and simplifying the processes of civic renewal, forming Torino Internazionale, an umbrella group of arts administrators, local businesses, councillors and politicians chaired by Mayor Chiamparino.
Chatting to Torino Internazionale's press officer, Roberta Balma Mion, Italian responses to my questions are peppered with a lexicon of Anglo business-speak buzzwords. The aim is to act as a conduit for the various parties, checking on progress and letting the public know about new developments.
The 2006 Winter Olympics quickly became a focus point for all this activity, but questions are beginning to be asked about what happens once the games are over and the promotional bandwagon leaves town.
Turin has always enjoyed the benefits of a buoyant private sector, but the alarming decline of Fiat (its domestic and export market share have shrunk dramatically, and the workforce in its main factory has fallen from 60,000 to just 15,000) and the ensuing crisis of confidence have thrown things into doubt.
The banks, who over the past five years have donated an annual €6.4m towards 'cultural heritage' in the Piedmont region, may decide to tighten their purse strings.
Indeed, some believe that the Olympics have masked the problem, and few are convinced that the revenue generated in February next year can compensate for the collapse of the city's industrial foundation. (Not that things have gone smoothly with the games' financing anyway - Italy's national airline Alitalia pulled out of a €6.4m sponsorship deal in 2004 because it was in financial difficulties, and the government was forced to plug the gap.)
Fortunately, Fiat has always been a generous patron of the arts, and remains - for now - heavily involved with two of Turin's most important exhibition spaces: the Fondazione Giovanni Agnelli and the Egyptian Museum.
The former sits on top of the Lingotto, Fiat's former factory, and a symbol of the city since it was first built in the 1920s. A great favourite of the Futurists, the Lingotto is spread over five floors, complete with a rooftop test track, and enjoyed a cameo appearance in (the original) The Italian Job.
Given a postmodern facelift by the architect Renzo Piano, the complex now includes a hotel and, perched on top, a gallery containing the art collection of the late Gianni Agnelli (the ex-Fiat president's coffin was kept under guard in the building before his funeral in Turin Cathedral in 2003).
The Egyptian Museum is widely seen as the best outside Cairo and is part of a privately-funded foundation set up in part with Fiat money. The foundation is headed by Alain Elkann, heir to the Fiat empire, an urbane, charming former journalist who is keenly aware of the
daily problems of running a museum, but finds himself increasingly occupied with company matters.
Meanwhile, the Castello di Rivoli, a medieval castle on the outskirts of the city that houses the Museum of Contemporary Art, has recently been renovated. Having established a permanent collection in the mid-1980s, the space, over two floors, has mounted a series of challenging displays and set up a successful relationship with the Venice Biennale.
With a profitable sideline in events and private views, the space is one of northern Italy's most forward-thinking cultural institutions, using its assets to bring in other sources of income, not least with its restaurant's panoramic views. As a mix of old and new, you couldn't find a better embodiment of modern-day Turin.
Daniele Silva works for the ExtraTorino online guide. He knows Turin well and is cautiously confident that the city can survive the demise of Fiat, with the Olympics a potential flag-waver for a new start:
'There are many different possibilities for Turin after the games. Fiat could recover, though it would be very hard. If that doesn't happen, the city would have to invent a new role for itself, but I think we're on the right road.'
Silva believes culture and new technologies are the way forward. 'The Olympics are the occasion for getting to know the city in all its aspects.
And to know one of the typical characteristics of the Torinese 'spirit': the Torinese work, and work well, but they don't tell anyone. This is contrary to what happens in Milan, for instance, where style is more important than substance.'
Turin will have a chance to showcase its arts and heritage at the Cultural Olympiad, a programme of events organised by every country that hosts a summer or winter Olympics. Elements include visual arts, drama, dance, music, cinema and literature.
Turin's neighbour, Milan, announced earlier this year that it was launching a bid for the 2016 summer games. Somehow, even with the uncertain climate, you can't imagine the Torinese will let their great rivals up the road steal a march on them when it comes to building a cultural legacy to last long after the winners' rostrums have been taken down.
Matt Barker is a freelance journalist
The capital of Piedmont has always been a place of contradictions, a legacy of its somewhat chequered past. The one-time royal seat has also been a financial centre, but is perhaps best known to the outside world as home to the Fiat motor group. As a result it's often unfairly dismissed as a one-company town, the Italian Detroit.
Like Manchester (and that other prominent Olympic city Barcelona), Turin has been keen to cultivate an international profile. Historically, the region has always had close ties with nearby France, and previous mayors have tended to look more to Brussels than Rome.
But the present incumbent, Sergio Chiamparino, is just as concerned with the city's standing in the rest of Italy, and is overseeing ambitious plans for urban regeneration to take it out of the shadow of neighbouring Milan.
Most of these ideas date from the early 1990s when a new political breed tried to start afresh after the 'mani-puliti' ('clean hands') corruption scandal that tore through the Italian establishment at the turn of the decade. The scrubbed-up baroque piazzas and porticos of the old centre now find themselves jostling for space with high-tech high-rises and an air of well-heeled chic.
A lively and progressive city, Turin is also home to about 40 museums, including the Museo Egizio (the Egyptian Museum), and the Museo Nazionale del Cinema (the National Museum of Cinema), which is housed in the iconic Mole Antonelliana tower (Turin was the birthplace of Italian film, though the industry moved to Rome in the 1930s).
In general terms, Italy's museums have always suffered from complacency. Blessed with artistic riches, little needs to be done to tempt in coachloads of eager tourists: there's no need for blockbuster culture here.
But the sector has been shaken by cuts in government spending. This has led to a burgeoning corporate culture and a growing tendency to look to the UK and US for know-how on marketing, merchandising and sponsorship.
The country increasingly uses lottery money to make up for its arts spending shortfall (Italy spends just 0.17 per cent of its GDP on culture). Since the mid-1990s, an average annual slice of £155m of lottery cash has been siphoned off for the arts (this is something of an Italian custom - Rome's Trevi fountain was funded by an early variant of the lottery back in 1732).
With no tradition of sponsorship, political patronage has often been the only way of finding extra finance, whether it's an orchestra, individual artist or TV channel. This can lead to compromises and potential clashes of interest.
Equally problematic is the tension between regional and national politics. With no unified national policy on cultural affairs, proposals can get lost in a mish-mash of town hall bureaucracy.
Piedmont, and Turin in particular, was quick to grasp the importance of streamlining and simplifying the processes of civic renewal, forming Torino Internazionale, an umbrella group of arts administrators, local businesses, councillors and politicians chaired by Mayor Chiamparino.
Chatting to Torino Internazionale's press officer, Roberta Balma Mion, Italian responses to my questions are peppered with a lexicon of Anglo business-speak buzzwords. The aim is to act as a conduit for the various parties, checking on progress and letting the public know about new developments.
The 2006 Winter Olympics quickly became a focus point for all this activity, but questions are beginning to be asked about what happens once the games are over and the promotional bandwagon leaves town.
Turin has always enjoyed the benefits of a buoyant private sector, but the alarming decline of Fiat (its domestic and export market share have shrunk dramatically, and the workforce in its main factory has fallen from 60,000 to just 15,000) and the ensuing crisis of confidence have thrown things into doubt.
The banks, who over the past five years have donated an annual €6.4m towards 'cultural heritage' in the Piedmont region, may decide to tighten their purse strings.
Indeed, some believe that the Olympics have masked the problem, and few are convinced that the revenue generated in February next year can compensate for the collapse of the city's industrial foundation. (Not that things have gone smoothly with the games' financing anyway - Italy's national airline Alitalia pulled out of a €6.4m sponsorship deal in 2004 because it was in financial difficulties, and the government was forced to plug the gap.)
Fortunately, Fiat has always been a generous patron of the arts, and remains - for now - heavily involved with two of Turin's most important exhibition spaces: the Fondazione Giovanni Agnelli and the Egyptian Museum.
The former sits on top of the Lingotto, Fiat's former factory, and a symbol of the city since it was first built in the 1920s. A great favourite of the Futurists, the Lingotto is spread over five floors, complete with a rooftop test track, and enjoyed a cameo appearance in (the original) The Italian Job.
Given a postmodern facelift by the architect Renzo Piano, the complex now includes a hotel and, perched on top, a gallery containing the art collection of the late Gianni Agnelli (the ex-Fiat president's coffin was kept under guard in the building before his funeral in Turin Cathedral in 2003).
The Egyptian Museum is widely seen as the best outside Cairo and is part of a privately-funded foundation set up in part with Fiat money. The foundation is headed by Alain Elkann, heir to the Fiat empire, an urbane, charming former journalist who is keenly aware of the
daily problems of running a museum, but finds himself increasingly occupied with company matters.
Meanwhile, the Castello di Rivoli, a medieval castle on the outskirts of the city that houses the Museum of Contemporary Art, has recently been renovated. Having established a permanent collection in the mid-1980s, the space, over two floors, has mounted a series of challenging displays and set up a successful relationship with the Venice Biennale.
With a profitable sideline in events and private views, the space is one of northern Italy's most forward-thinking cultural institutions, using its assets to bring in other sources of income, not least with its restaurant's panoramic views. As a mix of old and new, you couldn't find a better embodiment of modern-day Turin.
Daniele Silva works for the ExtraTorino online guide. He knows Turin well and is cautiously confident that the city can survive the demise of Fiat, with the Olympics a potential flag-waver for a new start:
'There are many different possibilities for Turin after the games. Fiat could recover, though it would be very hard. If that doesn't happen, the city would have to invent a new role for itself, but I think we're on the right road.'
Silva believes culture and new technologies are the way forward. 'The Olympics are the occasion for getting to know the city in all its aspects.
And to know one of the typical characteristics of the Torinese 'spirit': the Torinese work, and work well, but they don't tell anyone. This is contrary to what happens in Milan, for instance, where style is more important than substance.'
Turin will have a chance to showcase its arts and heritage at the Cultural Olympiad, a programme of events organised by every country that hosts a summer or winter Olympics. Elements include visual arts, drama, dance, music, cinema and literature.
Turin's neighbour, Milan, announced earlier this year that it was launching a bid for the 2016 summer games. Somehow, even with the uncertain climate, you can't imagine the Torinese will let their great rivals up the road steal a march on them when it comes to building a cultural legacy to last long after the winners' rostrums have been taken down.
Matt Barker is a freelance journalist
Links
www.extratorino.it
www.torino2006.org
www.visitturin2006.com
www.extratorino.it
www.torino2006.org
www.visitturin2006.com
