The elsewhere of the in-itself

The Covid-19 crisis revealed the potential of remote cultural mediation, but it seems that the public cultural sector has largely returned to focusing on physical presence. I propose a complementary approach between the “in-itself” (digital and intimate practices) and the “elsewhere” (in-person experiences), to reach distant audiences and enrich the cultural mission. By fully integrating the digital space as a creative realm and a lever for openness, without hierarchy between the two, I advocate for a rethinking of artistic creation and its mediation.

Legitimizing Intuitions

During the Covid-19 period, the cultural sector mobilized to innovate in remote mediation out of necessity, continuing its responsibilities despite new spatial constraints. Yet, once the crisis and its innovations passed, it feels like the lesson was forgotten. The public cultural sector seems to focus again exclusively on physical presence in venues, treating remote efforts as mere communication or marketing tools aimed at filling seats—as if the goal were to occupy spaces rather than fulfill a cultural mission. This mission can indeed involve simultaneous presence in venues, but it can also take many other forms.

A theater, for example, struggles to imagine anything other than welcoming people into its space. After all, that’s its function. A theater is not a book. Books work remotely; theaters do not. But perhaps today, faced with the declining interest of younger audiences in theaters—and beyond that, the sense that these spaces don’t concern them—it’s important to rethink this role. Many theater managers already know this and are innovating. I don’t claim that no one is reflecting on or questioning these practices. On the contrary, this essay aims to provide methodological and theoretical support for evolving practices, not to deny their existence but to strengthen and sustain their foundations.

Experimentation often stems from intuition, which can yield powerful and inspiring results. But without criteria to evaluate these new approaches, even the most successful projects struggle to gain legitimacy. Sharing these inspirations within professional networks and integrating them into cultural policies remains challenging. Yet, everyone aspires to this, as it’s disheartening to work not for the public or democracy, but for a bourgeois reproduction system where the same people always attend performances. Those who feel disconnected are often brought in forcibly, through school outings, for example. This observation is widely shared.

Digital Cultural Practices at the Heart of Lives

Thanks to digital media, humans now have collective, communal, and individual cultural practices that are more central and richer than ever. This is due to easier access and the expressive possibilities offered by digital tools, despite issues like addiction and attention economy, which shouldn’t be ignored but don’t define this reality. These practices are incredibly rich and still understudied; this is what we’ll call the “remote.” Cultural practices no longer necessarily require a physical space but can exist in digital spaces.

The In-Itself

Digital spaces are real. They take many forms: a social network as a whole is a space, but a group within that network is also a space of a different nature. Just as a building, like a theater, is a space with its lobbies, stages, and rehearsal rooms, these remote practices are what I call “in-itself” practices. In these practices, we’re not physically connected to others but are physically within ourselves, interacting with a digital object in our most intimate sphere. This “in-itself” isn’t a closure or a filter bubble isolating us from diversity. In this space, we’re no more closed off to diversity than in the “elsewhere,” the connection with the external. Outside, if I live in a specific neighborhood, I see the world through that neighborhood—a significant social and cultural filter bubble! Diversity is scarce, and even when I take the train, depending on schedules, routes, and ticket prices, I’m mostly interacting with people culturally similar to me.

The Elsewhere

The “elsewhere” is the elsewhere for oneself—the meeting place we envision in cultural venues. I use the term “elsewhere” to signify both a physical, geographical space and a connection to otherness. Often, what we aim to offer in the cultural field is an encounter with otherness, an enrichment through cultural experiences we wouldn’t encounter elsewhere. This “elsewhere” holds unique value, as it connects us to something different.

The goal of this “elsewhere” is to enrich, to invite us not to remain in our filter bubble but to receive. To do this, one must be open to receiving. This capacity to receive from the “elsewhere” is key. Without it, nothing is possible. Thus, the “elsewhere” and the “in-itself” are intrinsically linked. It’s common sense: if I go somewhere to discover something, I must be open to what that “elsewhere” might offer.

This seems simple, but in cultural mediation, especially in how we engage young audiences, the “in-itself” is often overlooked. We rely on a “magical belief” that the “elsewhere” will trigger openness in others. It can happen, but we must care for the “in-itself” of others to create a connection with the “elsewhere” we propose. This is transitive: we must also see others as an “elsewhere” that enriches our “in-itself,” which can be deeply challenging.

This is why, in professional training, we focus on having participants experience what we later ask them to facilitate for others. They must navigate the difficulties, emotions, and stakes of these new practices themselves.

The Necessity of the Remote

I speak not of “complementarity between in-person and remote” but of “complementarity between remote and in-person.” I deliberately reversed the terms because the in-person is what we offer, but we address people who are initially remote, in their “in-itself.” We invite them into our “elsewhere.” But why would I leave my “in-itself”? Why disrupt it, especially if this “elsewhere,” like a theater, doesn’t feel open to me, where I might be bored or feel the offering isn’t for me?

If we want to open cultural venues to those who feel disconnected, we must work on the complementarity between the “in-itself” and the “elsewhere.” We must create the “elsewhere of the in-itself,” opening a door within the “in-itself” to the “elsewhere.” This can only happen if we connect our “in-itself” with that of others. This is the starting point: remote mediation actions.

The Two Modes of Creation

In cultural practices, we distinguish between remote and in-person practices. But the starting point is remote practices. We must offer cultural practices remotely, not just communication or marketing. I clearly distinguish digital communication from digital mediation. It’s about creating remotely, as was done during Covid.

These remote mediations have value in themselves and can sometimes lead to an “elsewhere,” encouraging physical visits to cultural spaces. But from the start, this is why I call this concept the “elsewhere of the in-itself.” When we propose something remotely, it’s an “elsewhere” entering someone’s “in-itself.” However, in an era of disintermediation, where artists connect directly with their fans, this “elsewhere” emerges as a sharing of “in-itself.” The artist presents themselves as a person, not as demagogy but as a response to the reality of someone in their intimacy, behind their screen.

This isn’t the same as in a theater, where a collective gathers, with a stage and distance enabling beautiful experiences. On social media, we’re much closer. Remote cultural actions on digital platforms operate differently from in-person performances. For example, the TikTok accounts of many theater institutions often feature artist interviews, which can be interesting but are tied to televisual references. Television addressed the masses; it wasn’t a direct message. By definition, such content can’t touch people in their “in-itself,” as it’s not adapted. However, if someone takes a clip from a TV interview, edits it, adds personal comments, and shares it online, it becomes a “sharing of in-itself.” It’s someone remixing content and reintegrating it into the “in-itself” relationship.

What I want to emphasize is that cultural actions on digital platforms aren’t the same as in-person actions. They’re not a derivative; they’re a different mode of creation. Understanding and embracing this is essential; otherwise, it won’t work.

Musicians have known this for a long time. They maintain connections with their community, creating spaces for interaction without demagogy, embracing their personality and uniqueness. It’s through these constructions that, when an in-person event is proposed, some—not all—may find meaning in experiencing a different cultural encounter than what they find online. There’s no hierarchy between digital and in-person cultural experiences. They’re different but intrinsically complementary.

Implementation Method

I hope I’ve illustrated the need to deeply integrate the “elsewhere of the in-itself” into cultural projects. But how? How do we find the time, energy, desire, and resources to build this future of relationships between subsidized culture and citizens who feel disconnected from it? I believe every project should now include two artistic components: one remote, one in-person, without assuming a hierarchy between them, even in budgetary terms.

A theater, for example, can be a wonderful setting for creating remote experiences. It’s not about abandoning the venue but reinventing it—taking risks, innovating, making mistakes, and seeking feedback.

I won’t delve further into the artistic implications, as they’re vast, but I wanted to highlight what I see as a necessity and provide a conceptual and methodological tool to address it constructively, without opposing the artistic ambitions of public cultural institutions.