Amsterdam's dynamic subcultural landscape and the city's cultural fabric has evolved from the rebellious 60s to the modern era, from underground clubs to mainstream commodification.
Subcultures are the weird but amazing undercurrents of a city's soul. A vision, idea or passion being practiced, transcending mere hobbies to represent collective visions and unique lifestyles. There is a reason for calling these groups a subculture. It is when a group deviates instead of blends, when it transcends boundaries, disturbs the average city landscape. Not necessarily rebels, but definitely goes against the course of the masses. They arise from intense interests in areas like music, fashion, shared beliefs, or activities, often originating in a city's underbelly, away from mainstream culture. Examples of them can be found everywhere. Think skateboarders, vinyl or comic collectors, fitness enthusiasts, night owls in underground clubs seeking solace in music: the niche nature of these groups fosters strong connections among like-minded individuals. Both in young as old movements practicing a vision in motion.
Small gatherings of dancers, fleeting artistic collectives that shine brightly for a mere three years, quirky pop-up galleries, underground music scenes that thrive in the shadows before disappearing—do these ephemeral moments and spaces hold a place in the cultural heritage of a city? Yes, they surely do. Recognizing subcultures is crucial for a city’s cultural richness, future vibrancy and identity. Without them, places become homogenized. They are living proof of what diversity actually means. Another reason why subcultures are so important is that they have the power to push societies forward. Throughout history, they have been catalysts for new cultural ideas and societal changes, challenging conventional ways of life. They are the petri dishes of societal evolution, birthplaces of trends, incubators of new stuff. Celebrating these groups deepens our understanding and appreciation of a city's culture, encourages growth, and fosters connection to its inhabitants.
Lets look a bit closer to how subcultures found the grounds of vibrant Amsterdam. Today, our passions are often sidelined, tucked into the corners of our busy lives as mere hobbies, practiced in purposed places for it. But there was a time this was different. Read about post-war Amsterdam in the second half of the twentieth century and you'll find a version of the city full of eccentric personalities dedicating their days to quirky activities, starting innovative movements and artistic developments. A city pulsating with the energy of people expressing new ideas about the world. This was a reaction to the societal status quo of the time. The Netherlands in post-war decade was conservative, predictable, boring and most of all: square. The country was focused on reconstruction, building homes, and reviving the economy after the war. With a national mindset geared towards ensuring a stable and predictable future for the baby boom generation (1945-1955), this era of material rebuilding and prosperity led to a longing among the younger generation for creative expression and a break from conventional norms. Which is why, Amsterdam, much like other European cities, became fertile ground for various youth subcultures, each unique in character and influence.
Amsterdam between the 60s and 2000s was extremely rich in subcultures. The 60s and 70s were particularly transformative with activism and student movements, drawing inspiration from global music, fashion and belief systems. You've problably have heard how the Nozems, with their rock 'n' roll from the United States, set the tone. Then came the hippies, epitomized by the legendary "naaktveldje" in Vondelpark, a symbol of freedom and rebellion. Naturally, Amsterdam set itself apart from other major capitals with its liberal drug policies and early embracement of the LGBTQ+ community. Underground clubs emerged as sanctuaries for the LGBTQ+ community and lovers of alternative music. Jazz played a significant role, with the Pleiners and Dijkers leading the scene and hosting legendary musicians. North Amsterdam was known for its rich wrestling/kickboxing scene, while the hardcore, community workers', and 'Berlin on the IJ' scenes contributed to the city's dynamism with house, techno, and autonomous art. Goth scenes, cabaret movements, rollerskaters: Amsterdam saw it all.
And of course, every subculture needs a place to come to life. Here's where Amsterdam's talent for reinvention really shone. Faced with a lack of space? No issue. Subcultural movements thrived in the city's talent for reinvention, transforming old buildings, garages, and parking lots into spaces for artistic and cultural expression. Iconic movements and spaces such as Provo, the Kabouters, "kraken" (squatting), the gay scene, the anarchist underground, and locations like Villa Friekens, Schijnheilig, Mobile Broadcasting Bijlmer, De Boterbloem, Bajesdorp, Vondelbunker, OT301, Vrankrijk, and Paradiso, illustrate Amsterdam's rich subcultural history. Each element paints a vivid picture of a city that not only embraced but celebrated its subcultures, making them an integral part of its identity.
But things changed. Since the year 2000, the subcultural landscape of Amsterdam changed, for one and only reason: more money moving around. After the economic growth of the late '90s, many Western countries, including the Netherlands, opened up more resources for investment in culture. This led to a boom in the arts and culture sector, with more grants and investments in cultural projects, school programs, institutions, festivals, reopening of museums and revitalization of historical neighborhoods. This same economical growth soon gave way to a wave of consumerism and changing socio-economic dynamics. The emergence of a new breed of Amsterdammers – the affluent middle class, characterized by affluent lifestyles and consumer-oriented values, marked a departure from Amsterdam's traditional cultural ethos. This group seems to prefer consumption over genuine cultural immersion. As a result, within the first two decades of the 21st century, Amsterdam's culture increasingly became a commodity, reduced to something that could be bought, sold rather than a spontaneous, lived experience.
Culture became a commodity to invest in. The consequence? It became big business. The city saw a boom in cultural venues, suggesting a flourishing cultural landscape, while, it was, in many ways, a facade, focused on marketable stories and commercial experiences. Investment in 'cultural hardware' – physical infrastructures like museums and theaters – reflected a shift towards monumentalizing ambition rather than nurturing creative communities. Amid these developments, culture shifted from being merely an experience to a topic that people actively thought about and had opinions on. For a reason, of course. Because with the possession of financial recourses, especially as a government, you automatically gain the responsibility to spend them wisely. This sparked significant conversations and big ideas on the essence of culture itself. What should it represent in a city like Amsterdam? How it should be presented? Who should be included in its creation and enjoyment? A key theme echoed through every government policy from the time: culture had to be accessible for everyone - not just a select few. This shift meant moving away from exclusive, niche cultures to making cultural experiences accessible to all. Time to open doors wide, make culture more democratic and get rid of everything that is niche in nature. All these efforts to broaden cultural participation, while intended to include more people, occasionally resulted in a more superficial engagement with culture, prioritizing involvement over a profound understanding.
And then we have tourism paying its part. This made culture more about entertainment and consumption for everyone, even more so. This became visible across various cultural areas, including the arts, leisure, and the hospitality industry. Many places in Amsterdam try to replicate the feel of real subcultures but often miss the mark in capturing their authentic, rebellious essence. Bars and venues throughout the city present a kind of subcultural vibe, yet they're more about setting a trendy scene, a curated experience, than being true centers of alternative culture. Those all are the signs of how Amsterdam's culture changed, despite good intentions to invest in culture: economic value over intrinsic ideas, also in terms of personal expression. This is the reason why today's Amsterdam, culture has become more of a shallow commodity than a deep experience, sidelining the very individuals - artists, activists, intellectuals, and dreamers - who once defined its core.
The big question remains: are they still out there, those movement we call subcultures? Of course they are. In contemporary Amsterdam, the subcultural landscape is complex, multifaceted, and often less visible and intense as it was back in the days. And defining subcultures is easier in retrospect. Funny here side note is that "hipster" culture is commonly mistaken for a subculture. Hipsters, typically young, urban, middle-class adults and older teens, are known for their unique fashion and affinity for alternative culture, particularly diverse music genres. However, this group represents a different phenomenon than true subcultures. At their core, hipsters are about consuming culture, not living it. Rather than embodying a distinct subcultural identity, hipsters often adopt elements of various subcultures, mainstreaming what was once niche. Their pursuit of the unconventional often leads to the popularization of unique styles, focusing more on cultural aesthetics and surface-level engagement than on deeper involvement.
People living in Amsterdam today will know that the massive movement of hipsters makes it harder to spot the real, one-of-a-kind subcultures. By paradoxically dilute the uniqueness they seek, they contribute to the diminishing visibility of what is authentic. But if you look more closer, you'll discover that Amsterdam still knows a rich array of subcultures that are a big part of city life. Unlike hipsters, are genuinely committed to their beliefs, hobbies, or lifestyles. More focused on living out their subcultural ideals and practices than drawing attention to themselves or advertising their presence - the reason why they are not always in your face or easy to spot. But what's most important to state here is that subcultures today are much milder compared to the more radical subcultures of previous decades. They aren't as bold or out there as they were in the '70s and '80s. People now blend their personal passions with their work life and enjoy their hobbies. This milder version of commitment into a passion, perspective or activity makes contemporary subcultures less conspicuous and more integrated into everyday life.
In contrast to Amsterdam's battle with commercialization affecting its subcultures, there are cities around the world that have found a way to keep their subcultures alive and kicking. These places teach us how to protect these unique cultural spaces, even with the challenges of commercial growth and global influences. Take Berlin, for example. It's known for its strong subcultural history and yet balances this with a commercial side. The city supports independent art and values diversity and non-conformity, helping subcultures like the famous techno scene and art groups to thrive, even while this subculture causes troubles and inefficiency to other interests of the city. Across the Atlantic, cities like Portland in the United States also serve as exemplary models. The government uses a financial policy where small businesses and creatives can flourish, which is key to keeping subcultures vibrant. In Asia, Tokyo shows how mixing traditional and ultra-modern elements can nurture subcultures. Tokyo's subcultures thrive thanks to a mix of cultural traditions and constant innovation: areas like Harajuku are known for their unique fashion styles, challenging mainstream trends. While Berlin, Portland, and Tokyo offer varied landscapes for subcultures, Italian cities like Naples present a different yet equally compelling narrative. In Naples, the subcultural scene thrives in part due to the city's unique socio-political climate. Characterized by a lesser degree of formal authority and control, often a result of limited governmental funding, Naples provides a fertile ground for subcultures to emerge and evolve more organically. This relative lack of oversight allows organic subcultural growth. These examples show that with thoughtful (or a lack of) policies, community backing, and a respect for diversity, cities can be great places for subcultures to grow.
Reflecting on the journey of Amsterdam's subcultures, and comparing them with other cities globally brings us to an important question. Is culture is something to be actively lived and experienced or merely to be consumed? The city faces the task of preserving its vibrant subcultural scene without diluting it through excessive funding. The goal is to encourage grassroots movements to thrive, not in polished, commercial settings like museums or festivals, but right in the heart of city life. This involves creating spaces where various subcultures can grow away from the pressures of mainstream commerce. These spaces could be anywhere - streets, living rooms, clubs, parks, or boats - as long as they're open and not heavily regulated or commercialized. By keeping these areas free from strict purposes or financial goals, subcultures can develop organically.
But perhaps the most important thing to take away here is the lesson on what culture really is about. And to adopt in policies that the undefined ways of how culture finds its way to a city should be honored. It emerges not from structured definitions or financial injections, but from the spontaneous, the unusual, the quirky, and the freedom to be different. It's in these spaces and periods of time during history, free from the constraints of expectation and investment, where the heart of a city's culture beats strongest. Amsterdam's lesson to the world is a reminder that culture thrives on freedom—the freedom to explore, to create, and to be. This city's ongoing story, fueled by its diverse subcultures, offers a blueprint for how urban environments can host cultural expression. Here, the value of preserving the freedom to discover and express new ideas, ideals, and lifestyles becomes not just a cultural imperative but a beacon for future generations seeking to understand the depth and breadth of what it means to live culturally rich lives.
Image source: from "The Cushion" in Amsterdam one of many inflatable experimental ‘event structures’ that were conceived of as provocative sculptural interventions within the everyday urban environment. Placed on a street in Amsterdam in 1969, where it blocked traffic, this gigantic, soft pillow provided both a ludic spectacle and inducement for the onlookers to participate. Such an artwork is not so much about the making of an object, but more the shaping of an event and a public ‘situation of opportunity’. Sources: "Amsterdam: A History of the World's Most Liberal City" by Russell Shorto (2013); "Subculture: The Meaning of Style" by Dick Hebdige (1979); "Amsterdam: The Brief Life of a City" by Geert Mak (1995); "The Provo Movement: Amsterdam's Anarchist Revolt" by Roel van Duijn (2011); "High Amsterdam: Liberal Cannabis Policies and its Origins" by Martijn Doolaard (2018); "The Influence of Dutch Counterculture on Urban Development" in Urban Studies Journal (2005); "From Provo to Rave: Amsterdam's Subcultures from the 1960s to Present" in Cultural Studies Review (2012); "Punk and Squatters in Amsterdam" in European Journal of Cultural Studies (2009).
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