By now, we’re deep into the 2024 Olympic Games. Athletes have run, jumped, swum, skated, fought, danced and shot their way up the medal table in Paris, displaying physical feats that most of us could only dream of, pushing the limits of human achievement in a tradition that goes back more than a hundred years (or a few thousand, if we’re counting contests in ancient Greece). Needless to say, though, things have changed a bit over the years.
Let’s go back in time. A century should do it. It’s 1924, and the famed Russian composer Igor Stravinsky is in Paris for that year’s Summer Olympics. Selma Lagerlöf – the first woman to win the Nobel Prize in Literature – is there too. They’re on a distinguished jury of artists, designers, musicians, and writers whose job it is to judge contestants in five artistic categories: poetry, painting, architecture, music, and sculpture.
The most talented contestants in these categories could take home bronze, silver, or gold medals, just like their counterparts in track and field. Obviously, Stravinsky doesn’t think much of the music submissions, because he’s not giving out a single medal. Other judges are more generous, resulting in a medal table topped by France, with Luxembourg, Denmark, and Ireland as runners-up.
Now, jump forward again, back to present day. Can you picture the nation on the edge of their seats over the outcome of the epic poetry finals? Shirtless men, draped in their national flags, chanting the name of their newly-crowned chamber music champion? Probably not, and frankly we should all be ashamed of ourselves.
Olympic art contests were introduced fairly early on in the history of the modern Games. Having revived the ancient sports competition in the 1890s, Pierre de Coubertin proposed adding arts into the programme in a 1904 article for Le Figaro. “The time has come to take the next step, and to restore the Olympiad to its original beauty,” he wrote. “In the high times of Olympia, the fine arts were combined harmoniously with the Olympic Games to create their glory. This is to become reality once again.”
“Can you picture the nation on the edge of their seats over the outcome of the epic poetry finals? Probably not, and frankly, we should all be ashamed of ourselves”
Initially, the uptake was pretty slow. Only a few dozen artists submitted works to the 1912 Games in Sweden. Over time, however, it picked up in popularity. The 1928 Olympics in Amsterdam recorded over 1,000 artistic entries, with Paul Landowski – who would go on to design Rio De Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer statue – taking home a gold. The arts remained relatively hotly-contested throughout the 1930s and 40s. Alas, in 1954 it was decided that the competition would be replaced with a generic exhibition.
Why the sudden change of heart? One problem was that most competitors were professionals, which went against the founding Olympic principles (the original eligibility rules stated that professional athletes weren’t eligible to compete). The subjective nature of art also caused some issues with the judging process, sparking numerous disputes and controversies.
It’s 2024 now, though, and the rules have relaxed. Plenty of professional athletes are allowed to take part in the Games. Plus, Eurovision has proved that subjective art can be judged – in fact, after the ugly mess that was Eurovision 2024, many competitive culture lovers are hungry for an alternative. The case is clear: it’s time to bring competitive art back to the Olympics.
But maybe the prospect of filling the void left by Eurovision isn’t enough to convince you. That’s ok. There are plenty more good reasons that competitive art deserves a revival. They aren’t without its high-profile supporters, either. Pharrell, for one, wanted to “bring awareness” to the Olympics’ arty side at the 2024 opening ceremony, and urged organisers to “put the arts back in”.
Take the UK for example. With government funding cuts across the board and elitist institutions that have closed their doors to working-class creatives, the country’s current arts education ecosystem is dire. “Anything complex in form or rich in ideas has carried the charge of exclusivity – a disingenuous defence for savage funding cuts,” as Olivia Laing recently wrote in a plea to the new British government. “Let’s call this what it is: a deliberate attempt to impoverish the working class. Art belongs to everyone.”
“Could reintroducing art into the Olympics see a similar funding spike for grassroots, meritocratic arts organisations, as governments seek the prestige of taking home medals in painting, music, or poetry?”
Of course, this “crisis” isn’t unique to the UK. The situation for artists is precarious across the world, from the Netherlands, to Hong Kong, to US states like Florida. Admittedly, some Olympic athletes have also been outspoken about their lack of financial compensation during the competition, but millions are ploughed into actually getting them qualified for the games. Could reintroducing art into the Olympics see a similar funding spike for grassroots, meritocratic arts organisations, as governments seek the prestige of taking home medals in painting, music, or poetry? It couldn’t hurt! Already, skateboarding and breakdancing have seen an influx of cash due to their inclusion in the 2024 Olympics.
Even if governments aren’t willing to foot the bill, high-profile Olympic appearances can open up other financial avenues, like sponsorships. This year, Simone Biles struck a (presumably very lucrative) deal with Powerade. Sha’Carri Richardson reps Nike. I recently saw Usain Bolt in an advert for some washing liquid. Shilling for brands can be a bit embarrassing, but athletes secure a fat cheque and viewers get the momentary comfort of a familiar face on the telly. However, many of us do not follow sports. We don’t recognise half of these bemuscled people! What I’m trying to say is this: we need more avant-garde, post-internet conceptual artists talking bodies and spaces in adverts for 24-hour deodorants. We need niche autofiction novelists beamed into our homes to sell us toothpaste. They get paid and build their personal brand, and we get to say, “Did Aidan Zamiri just sell me a loaf of Hovis Best of Both?” Everybody wins.
On that same note, it’s no secret that sporting events like the Olympics are a source of (rare) national pride. And cheering on competitors does look quite fun. The thing is, those of us who do not care to watch sweaty people run in circles for several minutes, or throw various heavy objects about, or perform a few backflips – they’re just showing off? – often find it difficult to get involved. But imagine if worlds collided, and we were all invested in the same medal table, sports fans and art lovers and everyone in between. It could be beautiful. The nation could come together in ways that have laid dormant since ancient times. In the true spirit of Olympia, we could be united in excellence of body and mind.
