That's So Asheville

At the meeting Tuesday night, the boys were using a curious phrase. The were using the word “Asheville” to indicate a certain complacency–even shoddiness- in endeavor. Of some artist or arts project they would say, “That’s so Asheville.” As context built, I realized by “so Asheville” they were indicating the local state of mind where everything is uncritically OK, every half-assed stab at art, every second-rate self-congratulating theater troupe or experimental artist or too-chic exhibition space. They were indicating the state of mind where criticism–other than the rosy gush of praise–is taken as an affront and a violation, where everything is equal, where the truly excellent is to be mocked and the truly ordinary is to be taken in the exact light its originators intended, until all may be seen on a single undistinguished plane. Those things which are worse demand to be called better. Those things which are excellent are an embarrassment to mediocrity, and therefore must be, to whatever power available, undermined. Real achievement is a kind of insult. All are meant to stay with the pack. It is at once an excellent city for art–being accepting and open-minded-- and a terrible city for art-- being self-protective, complacent, and envious. This is the one town in the world where you must assume, with a straight face, equality between “craft: and “fine art.” I would guess this is the only town in the world where theaters reject their reviews and write “anonymous” letters to the outlet claiming to be the public standing up for them, and even when this is known it doesn’t seem to cause much embarrassment. This is a town that crows about its status as an “arts destination,” but doesn’t seem to give a damn whether that art is any good or not. Everything is wonderful, except that which really is. That’s So Asheville. I have sung this song for twenty years, yet they didn’t learn it from me, for I have mostly sung it under my breath, or in the hidden places of this journal. They saw it on their own. They are, if anything, more vehement about it than I ever was, for they have strength in numbers, and I felt always pretty much alone.