Was Will Gompertz right when he said the arts had been subsidised to 'no great effect'?

A cock-eyed view? BBC arts editor Will Gompertz. Photograph: Christian Sinibaldi

My Twitter feed this morning was very cross, very cross indeed. My colleague Will Gompertz, arts editor of the BBC, had been on the Today programme talking about arts subsidy. Despite Arts Council England's best efforts since its foundation after the war, he argued, funding for the arts had been "it would appear, to no great effect". Under 8% of the population, he said, go to the ballet, opera, or classical music concerts, according to government figures. Was arts subsidy, pondered the report, really just supporting the tastes of the upper and middle classes? Have institutions such as the Royal Ballet and Royal Opera succeeded in attracting any but the privileged few?

I think – with all respect and a friendly tip of the hat, as ever, to Will – that the picture presented here was too bleak; and incomplete. Hence the irritation of my Twitter pals. The implication (though perhaps not the intention) of the piece was to suggest that classical music, opera and ballet "stood in for" the whole of the arts. That is, of course, a partial picture. It misses out whole swathes of cultural activity. Theatre, galleries, museums. Street theatre, carnival, festivals... whole chunks of stuff supported by the public purse. It didn't mention the incredible work done in the community by arts organisations; or by companies like Clean Break and Streetwise Opera that work with a very particular social purpose in view.

The report was perhaps too a rather incomplete picture of the work of the Royal Opera House. I would not for a moment suggest that its audience on an average night presents an accurate picture of British society, or that it is not a forbidding place in many ways, or there is not work to do: but you don't have to pay £115 to see the ballet; my two-second, random click around on the website threw up £4 tickets for a terrific-sounding evening at the ballet in February (you do have to snap 'em up in advance) – a sum for which you'd struggle to find London cinema tickets. The ROH puts on family performances (tickets £5-£20). Chance to Dance is a scheme that works with schools in Lambeth, Southwark and Thurrock to encourage kids – not the kids of the privileged – to access ballet and enjoy dancing themselves. But enough about the Royal Opera House. The ROH is not the arts in England. It's one arts organisation in England and it shouldn't dominate discussions about funding (I know, I'm doing it...).

"Great art for everyone" – a glib motto for Arts Council England, perhaps. But I'm not sure anyone need be apologetic about the aspiration. Through our schools, through the extraordinary outreach work done by arts organisations, through the committed work of artists and teachers, I don't see why every person (and importantly every child) shouldn't encounter great art. God knows enough people are doing their best to make it happen. And actually, I think it's working.

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Baloji takes hip-hop attitude to Congo

Congolese rapper Baloji. Photograph: Baloji

Baloji, the brilliant and innovative Congolese-born Belgian rapper and video producer, spoke to Addis Rumble about his recent performances in Kinshasa, recording with Konono No 1, the distinct visual side of his work and how to escape the 'African artist' label.

What is your tactic when integrating Congolese sounds with rap and hip-hop?

I've been listening to hip-hop since 1995-1996. It's the music I grew up with. It was through listening to hip-hop that I learned about Curtis Mayfield and Fela Kuti and also Mulatu Astatke. Now Congolese music is really diverse but I'm trying to bring a hip-hop attitude to it.

A lot of traditional Congolese music is based on improvisation and in Ethiopia we have the same tradition through the Azmari singers. How do you see the relationship between this tradition of improvisation and then hip-hop?

I think that it is connected, most music is. It is only when people give it names, that we see the differences. For me the music of Konono is close to Animal Collective. This doesn't sound obvious in a commercial way but musically the way it's based on trance and vibrations is the same. This is also true for rap and for the griot culture.

What was your experience collaborating with Konono in the recording of your new album, Kinshasa Succursale (released on Crammed in March)?

I learned a lot of things. I learned that some musicians don't give a fuck about the metronome. They just play. In Europe we try to make sure the rhythm is the same until the end of the song. They don't care and they don't think too much about the music. In Europe people think so much about what it means, how it's build up, the themes, the melodies, the harmonies. I think it's because of the Mozart tradition. It's not because Konono don't have harmonies or themes. It's just that it doesn't have a prescription. It's free.

Karibu ya Bintou on Vimeo

How was it for you to perform in Congo?

I just played there again two weeks ago and it was really great. I played in a venue called 'the Zoo.' I was really happy with this concert because the Kinshasa audience is really difficult. They are so proud of who they are and what they are doing. It's a bit like Cuba. They have their musical identity and nothing can change it.

Do you adjust your performance to your audiences?

No. A couple of years ago I did but now it is more like 'take it or leave it.' My inspiration is from Congo but also from Europe and I don't want to adjust or find excuses for not living there. My music is different because I am an outsider living in Europe. Congo is a country where there is no real music industry. Many people have been listening to the same music for the past 25 years. For musicians like Jupiter or Konono it's really difficult to get an audience in Kinshasa. Congolese are not really progressive. They are quite conservative. It's the culture and the way people listen to music.

The visual side of your work is very distinct and also quite similar to the work of old Congolese photographers like Jean Depara. Why did you choose this visual appearance?

Actually, the visuals are the reason people picked up my work. But I'm not sure they get the message. What I like about this period of time in the 50s is that you had a lot of Congolese trying to look European and they called themselves 'the evolved'. They dressed up and tried to look like the Belgian kings. There is something really interesting in that attitude. I like the fact that they care about elegance. For me the main idea behind these visuals is pretending to be 'evolved'. But it's all fake because your colour is going to bring you down anyway. But people don't really get it. Now the hairstyle is becoming stylish and I see a lot of people copying the whole thing. It's not just about having an African backdrop behind you. It's deeper than that.

So what is the real thing then?

The fascination and frustration among many African intellectuals at that time trying to look European, trying to copy the way the Europeans did politics or social life. That to me is very interesting. I'm really fascinated by it and not just because they wore some high-fashion clothes.

So for you it's much more than just visuals?

Yes, it's about playing with perceptions and giving codes new meanings. For example the song Independance Cha-Cha (from Kinshasa Succursale) is about something different than the original version. It's basically the first commercial song made in Congo in 1959. It's really a silly and hypocritical song and it's nice to play with these codes. Because the perception of people is that it's a dance song, it's cha-cha, but in the end it's just empty.

Le Jour d'apres / Siku ya baadaye (Independence cha-cha) on Vimeo

You were struggling a lot to secure the release of Kinshasa Succursale. Now that you have a platform and support, what ideas do you want to realise?

I have a new album in the can. I have an EP that I hope to put out soon with a lot of collaborations with African artists. I'm working on a film that I hope to shoot next year. And I have this crazy band (the Katuba Orchestra) that has followed me in the past two years on this amazing journey in realizing this album that nobody wanted.

Finally, does it bother you being perceived now mainly as an African artist, not just an artist?

I'm an artist first, not an African artist. This is really difficult. You have to do something else, something non-African to not always being perceived as an African artist and always being put in the same box.

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