If you’re Spanish, today’s Fiesta Nacional de España celebrations might be defined by how you feel about the national flag – or your willingness to wear a nifty red-and-yellow bracelet. A brief history lesson before we start accessorising: while the holiday is meant to be dedicated to national unity, its origin has become a point of contention thanks to Cristóbal Colón (Christopher Columbus), whose arrival in the Caribbean on 12 October was christened Hispanic Day. But the holiday’s imperialist roots are only part of the debate.
Brash displays of nationalism have long been a touchy subject for Spain. In the years that followed the end of the Franco dictatorship, flag waving and other displays of red-and-yellow nationalism were mainly left to former regime apologists. For many, the flag remains a right-wing relic. The event’s centrepiece is a military parade overseen by the royal family and government officials, which predictably causes polarised fervour from the sidelines. But this is no ordinary year: Spain is in the early stages of a heated election campaign.
Not everyone who loves España, however, needs to be lumped in with a clan of ancient extremists. Enter the pulsera de España – or the diminutive pulserita – which has, since the 1990s, established itself as the ultimate sartorial signifier. What do wearers of these red-and-yellow bracelets want you to know? Any sweeping interpretation is admittedly highly subjective and probably reductive. But the basic message is that they love their country, that their country is the best and that they are protagonists in their country’s success story. You know, that standard patriotic schtick.
Most of those who sport hints of patriotism around their wrists are conservative but not extremist. For many, it’s a material expression of moderate love, though the rise of Spain’s far-right party, Vox, has been recolouring the political conversation. The party’s penchant for overstated exhibitions of old-hat nationalism has meant that wrapping the country’s colours around any part of your body has once again become politically charged. In the current climate, brandishing one of these bracelets, however subtle, is now a way of thumping your chest about the parts of the country that you love, while raising your clenched fist at the parts – or people – you don’t.
Even in sport – one of the few battlegrounds where euphoric flag waving is permissible – not everyone is singing from the same hymn sheet. If you watched last summer’s Fifa World Cup, you might have wondered why Spanish players stood tight-lipped before each match. This wasn’t a silent protest or a collective spell of amnesia. Spain’s national anthem remains lyric-free simply because the country’s 17 regions haven’t reached a consensus on a unifying verse.
Ahead of the country’s November elections, various versions of España are being tabled, exaggerated, argued over, compared or cautioned about. Some of these national visions are simplified portraits of a past that never really existed, while others attempt to stride towards a future that reconciles the country’s complex present. Everyone can probably agree that they want the best for their nation but they just have different ways of showing it.
Spain’s fraught relationship with its pulseritas suggests that the country has a lot of work to do. But as a fashion choice, these little bracelets are still a more prudent alternative to other national-dress choices. Perhaps all Spaniards can agree that wearing the flag as a cape is a thread too far.
Sweden’s media market, whose influence lies in a small, concentrated group of commercial media houses such as Bauer Group, Viaplay, Bonnier News and Schibsted, is undergoing a transformation. What’s making things interesting, however, is that within these organisations, individual outlets are growing and diversifying to reach an audience base that gets their media through a variety of platforms.
About a third of Swedes are willing to pay for online news, according to the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism. They represent among the highest percentage of paying news readers in Europe – second only to Norway – which means that the market is not only ripe for engagement but is potentially lucrative too. And the major corporations are taking notice.
This summer Schibsted-owned tabloid newspaper Aftonbladet, which has been in publication since 1830, launched a radio station. The new venture is emblematic of where Swedish media is headed: established brands are spreading their content across various platforms to leverage their resources and talent.
Radio Aftonbladet is positioning itself as a serious commercial competitor to the public-service broadcaster, Swedish Radio, which has had a near monopoly on newscasting over the country’s airwaves for the past century. In the hopes that the newcomer would help to diversify the media landscape, the Swedish Press and Broadcasting Authority awarded Radio Aftonbladet an FM licence that was previously held by a music station with a million listeners. Known for the speed at which it deploys reporters upon breaking news, the radio station can pull from a pool of Aftonbladet’s 200 journalists to fill its airwaves with news, entertainment, sports and podcasts faster than any of its competition.
As global audiences increasingly turn to a wide variety of sources, journalists – as well as the companies that employ them – understand that testing new ground is the only way to survive long term and Sweden is no different. My journalism colleagues in the industry tell me how they are dabbling in different formats, and becoming good at it too.
Aftonbladet’s entry into the radio sphere marks the first time that a commercial broadcaster is attempting to give the public-service behemoth a run for its assured audience, which is admittedly an uphill task. Swedish Radio has been on air for the better part of a century and reaches more than seven million listeners every week (out of a population of 10 million). Radio Aftonbladet might be small in comparison, reaching less than 200,000 listeners per week in its first month, but it is agile and moves quickly. It has also poached some big names from Swedish Radio, such as presenter Henrik Johnsson, suggesting that, in terms of high-quality output, its continued development is likely to be a success.
Though it’s still early days in the race, Radio Aftonbladet makes a compelling case that Swedish media companies are doing it right. I, for one, will be tuning in.
Alejandro González Iñárritu’s new film, Digger, has been critically panned all over the world. The Boston Globe gave it 0 stars; The Guardian called it “shallow, laborious” and “the most disappointing film of the year”. So far, it is also a commercial disaster: having cost more than $250m (€223m) to make and market, it only took $8m (€7.1m) domestically during its first week in cinemas. Some are predicting that it will be the greatest flop of all time.
This must be prompting some reflection for the Mexican director whose previous films (The Revenant and Birdman) were universally adored by critics, showered with awards and did good business. In contrast, Digger’s star, Tom Cruise, has had to live with the cognitive dissonance of (mostly) scathing reviews versus billion-dollar box office for his entire career. He doesn’t help matters by being so weird, having such a messy private life and all that Scientology nonsense. Perhaps Digger might have been judged less harshly with, say, Gary Oldman in the lead?
Then this happened: I am at dinner with friends in Copenhagen and mention the mauling that Digger has received around the world. An art director whose judgement I usually trust on these matters looks perplexed. “What do you mean? It’s a masterpiece! Politiken gave it six stars.” Others round the table agree. “The Danish critics loved it!” says another guest. She likens it to Citizen Kane and Dr Strangelove. Now it is my turn for a dose of discombobulating dissonance. Had I stumbled into an Invasion of the Body Snatchers-type scenario? Were my friends secret Scientologists?
I had been out of Denmark for a few days, so had only seen the UK and US reviews, but my friends were right. And it wasn’t just the left-wing broadsheet Politiken that gave it full marks; so did the right-leaning Jyllands-Posten. Nearly all other Danish media platforms gave Digger a maximum score, calling it the “film of the year”, “Cruise’s best performance ever” and so on. Global media told me it was a turkey; Danish reviewers called it a work of genius. Who to believe?
Leaving this film aside, I wondered whether this kind of extreme critical schism had ever happened before. I have heard that London theatre critics used to meet after previews to make sure that they were roughly in agreement about whether a production was awful or brilliant. Having attended film critic screenings as a journalist, I can attest that there is some discussion after film previews too. This can’t work internationally, of course, but the response to Digger still seemed extraordinarily polarised. It turns out that there are precedents: the Internet tells me that Kevin Costner’s notorious 1995 flop, Waterworld, was huge in Japan. Scandinavian audiences will probably be the only ones to recall Antonio Banderas’s 1999 disaster, The 13th Warrior (they liked it because there were Vikings in it, apparently). German critics actually said good things about the Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp snorefest, The Tourist, while French cineastes famously worshipped Jerry Lewis as an artistic genius, much to the confusion of Americans. More recently, French critics also praised Ella McCay, last year’s already-forgotten James L Brooks political comedy, which has a dismal 23 per cent on Rotten Tomatoes.
I went to see Digger for myself. The cinema was fuller than usual: another indication beyond my friends’ responses that film critics still have some power. It wasn’t awful, just very on the nose and exhausting, with highly strung performances and a plot that meanders down strange dead-ends. Not since Bradley Cooper in Maestro has an actor targeted an Oscar so strenuously but I fear that Cruise has little chance of getting to deliver his presumably much-polished Best Actor lecture. One does sympathise with Sandra Hüller though. Such a brilliant, nuanced actor, required here merely to scream and gurn.
But that’s just my opinion.
Good morning, bom dia from sunny, balmy Lisbon, where the parrots have returned for their early morning coffee visit, the banana trees at either end of the terrace are looking a bit sad and I’m about to start packing for a little jaunt to São Paulo.
If you missed last week’s column, it was autumn quiz time. First, I want to say thank you to all the participants who obediently observed the Monday deadline. Second, who knew that there were so many clever, funny Greeks who read this newsletter and also did very well with their answers? While no one nailed all 10 questions, a few came very close and a couple of others deserve high marks for simply being so darn witty. Here’s a recap of the quiz, with the winners’ answers beneath each question.
1.
You’re in a restaurant with colleagues in the US and you’re really thirsty and hungry. There are a lot of people weaving around the restaurant who very much look like they work there and you’re doing amateur acrobatics to get someone’s attention. Finally someone in an apron approaches your group and offers up something between a wince and a smile. What’s the most annoying thing that they can say to you?
“I’m not your server.” Ideally followed by absolutely no attempt to find whoever is. [Elīza, Riga]
2.
You’re still in the US and you arrive at the reception of a big tech company with a woman who pretends that she’s all smiles and cookies but is, in fact, a distant Californian cousin of one of those bad-ass French riot officers. What is the most grating thing about being “welcomed” at a US corporate HQ these days?
The airport-security welcome. ID, photograph, tablet, badge, NDA – all delivered with a Californian smile beneath a sign saying “Welcome”. I’ve come for a meeting, not to defect. [Maximin, Paris]
3.
You’ll notice that barrel-leg trousers continue to be all the rage on the rails of certain retailers. While this voluminous look is fine if you have long pins, it also makes those who are shorter than 165cm (5ft 5in) look like circus acts. How many more weeks, months or years will this silhouette endure?
The trend will continue until the precise moment I have given in and purchased a pair. [Rebecca, Auckland]
4.
As it’s Paris Fashion Week, can you name the next big maison that’s going to define a whole new space at the top end of the luxury market?
Matthieu Blazy at Chanel. [Theodoros, Patras]
5.
Can you name the most bothersome and overused term in the English language, which should have disappeared from everyday conversation long ago but is still kicking around? Here’s a hint: it comes at an angle.
I will lean in on this one and circle back. [John, Philadelphia]
“Lean in.” And now, “lean into.” Can we please stand upright and get on with it? [Maximin, Paris]
6.
Were the men who wrestled and restrained the rogue, likely radicalised co-pilot on that Flydubai flight this week really random civilian heroes – or were they rather more professional? Or extras from Fauda?
Off-duty pilots, a plumber, a dentist and plenty of adrenaline. Not quite Fauda, but a cast everyone would want on their next flight. [Lala, Taipei]
Like my country – Greece – Israel has military service. Whatever one thinks of this, what’s undeniable is how it provides young people with (sometimes lifesaving) skills and a sense of purpose for themselves and those around them. [Dimitrios, Athens]
7.
Why has China, despite all its purchasing muscle and production prowess, not yet managed to create a global luxury brand? Or has it?
One of its car brands is about to. [Mal, Sydney]
8.
Where will Monocle’s next café be opening? And when?
Toronto. [Noor, London]
Toronto, before the end of 2026. [Theodoros, Patras]
9.
Name the European automotive group that is ramping up production to meet demand for its surprise four-wheel success story. Hint: the vehicle lives across two of the group’s brands.
Not a close automotive follower but I’ll say Stellantis – due to my wife’s top two vehicular desires: the Topolino and the Amis. If these get roadworthy badges in the States, she’ll be top of the pre-order list. [John, Philadelphia]
10.
What is going to be the hottest hotel opening of Q4? Bonus question if you also name the designer and can pronounce their last name properly.
JNcQUOI House. Vincent Van Duysen. [Noor, London]
All winners will receive a copy of Sophie Grove’s new book, Konfekt: A Guide to Generous Hosting. The next quiz will be just in time for Christmas.
Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns.
At the start of this year my brother-in-law, Phil, placed a bet with our dog Macy. I allowed this to proceed knowing that our dog had no cash of her own, so could lose little more than a chewed toy. The gambling moment had been prompted by the news that both hound and human now had incurable cancers that were at a stage when it was time to stop treatment and allow the disease to do its worst (don’t stop reading – there are life-changing moments ahead and some humour).
Macy lost badly – thank goodness she never discovered blackjack – and departed in March. Phil has now gone too; the funeral is this week. This column, however, isn’t really about either of them. It’s about the age-old question, “But what does it all mean?” Because when Phil placed that bet, he added a couple of powerful caveats. He was not going to die before 5 September, when he and my sister were planning to throw a party to celebrate her milestone birthday and a big wedding anniversary. And he would pop his clogs in the hospice that he had selected, not at home.
I headed to the big shindig straight from The Monocle Quality of Life Conference. My partner picked me up from Heathrow and I changed in the car as we tried not to be too late. It was an amazing night, even though I knew that this would be the final time all three of my sisters, their partners and mine would be together in one room.
In the days after holding court at the party, Phil’s health declined. He was taken to the hospice but on the first night, after his family had left, he died. I’ve talked about this with my sister: how that date in the calendar kept him going, how even his determination to make it to the hospice kept him alive for one final day. He had a purpose, a plan.
Last week, while I was with the Monocle crew at the Livex liveability summit in Abu Dhabi, I hosted a panel about how we create healthy cities. I quizzed three amazing people on the topic: Dan Buettner, the writer who has popularised the research around blue zones (places with high clusters of centenarians); Max Lugavere, a hugely successful writer and podcaster who focuses on nutrition; and Khaled Ghattass, an author and human-behaviour expert who brought an Arabic perspective. We talked about diet and exercise – but something that also surfaced was the importance of your life having meaning.
Ghattass gave some stark examples. If your partner dies, you are 60 per cent more likely to die too in the next year. I hope that my sister doesn’t get any ideas – there’s a limit to how many days I can take off work. He also talked about why, when people retire, they so often succumb to illness and cognitive decline. He told the story of how his father’s mental health diminished after he stopped work and how, by adding purpose back into his dad’s life, he reversed this. He put his father in charge of the family’s finances and he flourished.
Buettner’s research also supports this idea. He explained that long-lived people tend to have social circles that reinforce healthy behaviour, with strong family ties, faith and friends who they can call on when needed. Buettner also flagged that people who volunteer tend to have lower BMIs than those who don’t. And in Okinawa, they don’t even have a word for “retire”.
So if you want to keep going, to stay healthy and keep your brain alert, you need to be able to answer that simple question: what am I here for? And before you’ve had your wholegrain toast please. It also looks like I might end up shuffling around Midori House as a nonagenarian. Perhaps I can oversee the drinks trolley. I’d be good at that.
To read more of Andrew’s columns, click here.
Menswear brands have dropped trousers and more. But what has caught the eye this season? It seems that clothiers have fallen for popped collars again and – encouragingly – remain certain that quality fabrics are a non-negotiable. And for those who have also flicked through hundreds of brands’ lookbooks this autumn, I ask you this: why is every collection being shot in Scotland this year? Seriously, the Hebrides have never been better dressed – or better-looking. But before trekking up there, let’s start off by checking in with the Antipodeans:
Pick up fine fabrics from Asha Jasper
Australia
When it comes to building the best menswear collections, sourcing deadstock threads and knowing the right mills have become just as important as fashioning a well-crafted garment. Asha Phillips, founder and creative director of Sydney-based brand Asha Jasper, designs collections from the weave and weight of textiles hand-picked from Japanese and Italian mills. With the perfect fabric to hand, Phillips shapes pieces using classical tailoring methods and modern utilitarian references. We particularly like Asha Jasper’s straight-cut, made-in-Australia trousers that would fit everything from a boardroom to a bar.
ashajasper.au
Ride on Japanese clothier Niceness’s coattails
Japan
Tokyo-based Niceness has, for yet another season since its 2017 debut, produced a range of outwear that’s the envy of all those who thought last year’s coat would do. Among rails of beautiful wool suiting, silk shirting, knits and accessories for men and women, it is the outerwear pieces that form the new collection’s coat stand of showstoppers.
The E Calder coat is one of many (do check out the Rowan and Dieter shapes too) that takes traditional silhouettes a little further. Inspired by British military macs and made from US Sea Island cotton, it’s a nod to 1950s and 1960s design, with side slits to access trouser pockets. Last year’s coat will not do.
niceness.jp
NN07 and Fracap’s latest collection has a foot in many camps
Denmark & Italy
Danish clothier NN07 and Italian bootmaker Fracap have been in lockstep for years. In their third collaboration, the brands reimagine Fracap’s M127 silhouette with three new boots that, for the most part, reflect NN07’s penchant for pared-back aesthetics.
Two of the designs, which come in traditional brown and black leathers, are quite at home on a steep alpine edge, pounding inner-city pavements or mucking out the stables in the country. The third pair – though it wouldn’t struggle with these tasks – might make you forever conscious of scuffing your prized, dark-grey ponyhair shoes. The choice is yours.
nn07.com; fracap.it
Stone Island Ghost will blend seamlessly into your wardrobe
Italy
Stone Island’s Ghost collection draws on the brand’s extensive material research and garment-dyeing capabilities to create pieces inspired by the art of camouflage. Its approach is pared-back but delivers striking monochromatic and tonal looks.
The David-TC is a padded jacket with an inviting shearling-trimmed collar, woven from a star-shaped Japanese polyester that mimics vintage military motifs. It’s one for cooler months, to be worn for years to come.
stoneisland.com
Stride into the new season with Tarvas hiking shoes
Finland
Finnish shoemaker Tarvas has found its footing at the top of the crossover between hiking boots and trainers. With its topographical layering of leather, rubber and mudguard, the brand’s Easy Hiker is now a recognisable silhouette on the streets of Paris, Tokyo and beyond.
The Wanderer is the Hiker’s slender cousin. With a generous Vibram sole and a Jacques Solovière-like upper side that forms a calfskin pleat through its centre, it’s ideal for both the fleet-footed city flâneur and the forest trail explorer. If you can’t decide, the Explorer and new Derby shapes provide a middle ground with a more classic look. Picking which style to buy might be your only uphill battle for a while.
tarvasfootwear.com
Toast the season in classic, warm-toned pieces from Forét
Denmark
Without wishing away the ease of summer styling, we’re now in the sartorial “good bit”. The part of the year when layered pieces form pleasing depths and contrasts in outfits. Wardrobe staples form new affinities: that old woolen jumper pairs rather well with that new, popped checkered collar.
Forét’s autumn collection picks a perfect country colour palette of cumin, sage and wooded hues to complement city silhouettes and styling. Outerwear ranges from Harris Tweed macs to lighter twill and herringbone jackets made in Portugal. And we particularly like its high-necked, ribbed knit in thyme and flannel shirting in navy and rust.
foretstudio.dk
Put down your roots in attire from Nikawi and YMC
Japan & UK
Our Chiltern Street neighbours Niwaki do much more than make the perfect set of secateurs. The gardening brand also creates thoughtful pieces of kit for everyday life, from lunchboxes to stepladders. And, on this occasion, it’s a limited-edition clothing collection in partnership with UK label YMC that has caught our eye.
The Gardener’s Jacket is a reinvention of one of YMC’s staple silhouettes, featuring a water-resistant shell, a more generous hood and a reconsidered pocket placement for tools. The Suedehead Jumper is made from Scottish lambswool and comes in alluring pink and understated pine colourways. Naturally, there’s also a set of YMC x Niwaki Higurashi Secateurs with a leather belt and holster. Whether you’re working on the allotment or tending to your monstera, it’s a collection that celebrates urban gardening.
nikawi.com; youmustcreate.com
Mix up your wardrobe with Auralee’s two-sided coat
Japan
Running gear by District Vision or Satisfy might be the best kit while you’re on a run – but what if you’re on the run? If a leather jacket is too conspicuous, Tokyo’s Auralee has a reversible coat that enables you to switch up your look fast.
But it also suits a stand-up citizen wanting to turn heads, with its two-sided, stand-up collar. One side boasts a smooth Pakistani sheep leather, while the other comes in either a khaki or brown chambray for a more elegant, draped finish. For something a little more traditional, opt for a blue tweed blouson jacket or the brand’s ultrafine, wool twill trench coat with detachable lining.
auralee.jp
Layer up in fine fabrics by Oliver Spencer
UK
Oliver Spencer’s autumn collection is a nod to the brand’s city origins. Elegant trenches feature rear-dart detailing, allowing the coats to drape and move as you walk. Softly tailored suits create a less stuffy silhouette that won’t look out of place during an alfresco business lunch or the commute home. For layered looks with texture and depth, try checked wool coats, bright alpaca knitwear and shirts in corduroy and brushed cotton. It’s a range that you’ll fall for.
oliverspencer.co.uk
Look sharp on hairpin bends and out of the saddle too in Pas Normal Studios
Denmark
Copenhagen’s Pas Normal Studios makes cycling gear Copenhagen’s Pas Normal Studios make cycling gear that looks good even when you’re just a blur, clocking 45km/h on a steep descent in Palma de Mallorca. But the brand’s racing jerseys and speedsuits can look a little too taut once you’re back in the city.
Its new Off-Race collection is designed for all of those quieter moments when you’re not pedalling to your destination: think lightweight jackets made from Japanese seersucker, boiled-wool fleeces, musette bags and packable down jackets. One standout is a merino-wool half-zip made in tandem with fellow Danish brand and knitwear specialists SNS Herning.
pasnormalstudios.com
Stride out in a pair of Jacques Solovière
France
This season’s grained leather Raymond shoe adds even more depth to an iconic silhouette that already folds and puckers just so. Unlike many French-made leather shoes, Jacques Solovière’s kicks are extraordinarily light to keep you fleet-footed through the winter if a boot isn’t your thing. And if the calf leather and single laced eyelet makes too subtle an impression, the Boldie offers a perforated, brogue version for a little more bulk.
jacquessoloviereparis.com
CDLP are an underwear brand that gets the brief
Sweden
Not all men are underwear models and most work in industries where trousers are encouraged. So it’s odd that the majority of brands seem to approach boxer-short design like an advertising campaign.
Stockholm’s CDLP, however, makes drawers that put fabric and feel before all else. Its Tencel Lyocell boxers are silky and tailored for comfort. And if you’re one for a Y-shaped brief or baggier short, CDLP will have you covered.
cdlp.com
Upgrade your journey with DB’s new Rameverk luggage range
Norway
Are you off anywhere chasing sun or embracing the elements? Well, Oslo-based baggage experts Db understand how to cart your kit from A to B in one piece. The brand’s Rib-Cage Construction technology means that its luggage proudly holds form, no matter which bellboy or air steward is hoiking it around. Db’s new Ramverk aluminium range has a zip-free frame that’s built to protect your belongings – including all of these new purchases – for a lifetime. But better than that, isn’t it rather fetching?
dbjourney.com
South Korea’s cultural cachet continues to rise as K-pop’s influence shows no signs of slowing. At the British Museum, the most comprehensive chronological survey of Korean art and craft in Europe in more than 40 years, Korea, is now open. The National Museum of Korea (NMK), which instigated the show, recorded 6.5 million visitors last year, becoming the third most visited museum in the world. At the helm of the widely envied institution is art historian and bestselling author Yoo Hong-jun. Here we sit down with the museum director to learn more about how the NMK trails only the Louvre and the Vatican Museums for visitor numbers.
NMK and Seoul’s National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art collaborated on an unprecedented scale to bring this show to London. What drove you to accomplish this?
With the global boom of K-pop and K-drama, more eyes are on us than ever, yet few understand Korea’s profound creativity throughout its long history. What you see in Korean wings at major international museums doesn’t do it justice. Drawing on the extraordinary collection of Samsung’s late chairman, Lee Kun-hee, the exhibition showcases the essence and true colour of Korean art and culture, from antiquity to the present.
I’m just doing the maths. Does your 6.5 million visitors include those at NMK’s regional branches, like Gyeongju?
No. [The number] is from the NMK headquarters in Yongsan, Seoul, only. If we include regional museums, the number (some 14 million) beats the number [of people] attending professional baseball league games, [which is] South Korea’s most popular sport.
While [the number of] international visitors is rapidly growing, I hear it is a loyal core of young Koreans that drives ticket sales. How do you foster such a following?
With interactive programming, such as the annual “Dress Like Museum Exhibit” cosplay contest. This year’s top prize went to a participant dressed as a carp-shaped baekja inkstone. The museum has repositioned itself as an energetic, multi-purpose cultural playground, nurturing community building.
The synergy with K-pop culture isr also critical. Teenagers queued up at dawn to buy KPop Demon Hunters goods and the limited-edition BTS merchandise. (BTS sampled the sound of Korea’s legendary bell, the Sacred Bell of Great King Seongdeok, in the album Arirang.)
You appointed RM, the frontman of BTS, as the museum’s global public-relations ambassador in June. What activities are you carrying out with him?
RM’s massive international following makes him a magnet for young people to visit us. He also donated 100m won (€66,000) to help with museum acquisitions. Fresh from curating a show at San Francisco Moma, which featured his personal collection, he is a true force in making art cool to the new generation.
What else do you do to make visitors come back to the museum over and over?
With a three-month rotation of historic works, which is mandatory for restoration purposes, we embraced a seasonal model at the [Calligraphy and] Painting Gallery. Each quarter features a curated masterpiece of the period, encouraging visitors to return for fresh discovery and to become loyal fans.
How has your background as an art-history professor and a bestselling author influenced your role as the director of NMK?
Whether writing a book or working at the museum, I always consider the audience first. Whilst maintaining academic rigour, I carefully balance the content, always wondering whether visitors can grasp as much as we hope. It’s not about simply listing good menus but about curating an exceptional taste.
How would you describe distinctive Korean aesthetics?
As noted in Samguk Yusa, the history of the Three Kingdoms that was completed in 1145, [The Korean] aesthetic is ‘humble yet not undignified, splendid yet not extravagant’. It is a sense of inner depth and togetherness over intimidation and ostentation. For us, the relationship with the beholder means more than what is on display.
What are your future plans?
At NMK we are organising a landmark 2027 exhibition to trace Korean culture’s roots, followed by more international tours.
Art history provides a foundation for understanding a country. Yet, apart from exhibition catalogues, few books exist in English about Korean art history. I’m looking for a discerning European publisher for my Korean art history book.
Lock up your datasets – Bangkok is playing host to one of the world’s largest gatherings of economists, central bankers and finance ministers. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank’s annual meeting, which leaves Washington every three years, will begin in the Thai capital on Monday for the first time since 1991.
Government officials here are calling this high-level conflab at the Queen Sirikit National Convention Center the “Olympics of Global Finance”. It’s a sexed-up title for more than 10,000 people in grey suits nattering about interest rates, inflation and sovereign debt – but these global policymakers have genuine influence and the authorities are keen to impress.
Bangkok’s power lines have been pruned, workers have been given a day off to ease Friday traffic and even the giant LED billboards are on message. A shortage of baggage handlers at the main international airport, which caused luggage to pile up, cost the CEO of Thai Airways his job. In preparation for the event, prime minister Anutin Charnvirakul and his cabinet just need to pray for sunshine after the city’s recent floods.
On the bright side, next week’s contingency plans will be more robust, with four scenarios mapped out in case of flooding at the Queen Sirikit National Convention Center. If the water level reaches 50cm, the show will go on but instead of being picked up from their hotel lobby in an electric-powered BMW, the VIP delegates will get to the venue via the BTS Skytrain and underground metro. Honestly, it would do them good: the elevated Skytrain is easily the best way to see Bangkok and is one of the key markers of the city’s transformation since the IMF and World Bank’s last visit in the early 1990s.
These annual meetings are global in scope but they’re also an opportunity to take a closer look at the host country’s economy. The World Bank’s latest report, released last month, paints an impressive picture of Thailand’s development over the past 35 years “from an agrarian, lower middle-income country into one of the region’s most dynamic economies”. You can’t argue with that – but making it into the World Bank’s top income bracket would require going to the root of Thailand’s current upper-middle-income malaise.
At the current rate of growth (a sluggish 2.2 per cent), it will take Thailand another 30 years to become a high-income country. Achieving this milestone by 2037 – the government’s stated goal – will require a radical overhaul of the economy and some big ideas that go beyond building data centres and applying to join Brics and the OECD. Annual economic growth would need to average five per cent over the next 11 years – and I don’t think that I’ve met anyone in Thailand who believes that is possible. The last time the country saw a recovery with those types of numbers was in 2012, after the previous year’s devastating floods, which really did deserve global news coverage and biblical headlines. Perhaps history will repeat itself.
One of Thailand’s main structural problems is also one of its biggest successes. Bangkok is a top-20 global city but its rise has come at the expense of other cities and provinces. The World Bank says that Thailand has “one of the world’s most extreme cases of urban concentration in its largest city”. It suggests the development of second- and third-tier cities, which would be a very sensible remedy, with plenty of good candidates. Chiang Mai, for example, could transform from a sleepy backwater into a creative capital. Meanwhile, Khon Kaen in the northeast has the universities and farmland to become the home of agritech. The private sector and tourism agencies are doing their bit to promote these areas but there’s little urgency or buy-in from the central government.
Bangkok is only one of two administrative areas in the country with a directly elected governor – the other provincial leaders are appointed civil servants. The reformist People’s Party campaigned for decentralisation during the most recent general election in February. It swept the board in the capital, while the heartlands, which arguably stood to benefit the most in the long term, handed power to the conservative status quo. Bangkok might have changed beyond recognition since the 1990s but Thai politics, come rain or shine, remains the same.
James Chambers is Monocle’s Asia editor. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
This year’s European protest-fest is headlined yet again by a repeat booking: instead of poring over philosophical texts, French teenagers are opting for a practical course in barricade construction. What started as piecemeal protests east of Paris turned nationwide in early October. On Tuesday roughly one in four of the country’s secondary schools were blocked, while more than 260,000 students, teachers, parents and trade unions took part in demonstrations across France.
“I’m here because I can’t take it anymore,” said Daniela, 15, sitting by her school’s blockade. “We have one nurse for 2,000 students, no maths teacher, no toilet paper and classrooms that reach 40C in the summer.” Throughout the day teens built picket lines, sang the national anthem and faced off with riot police.
Schools around the country have rallied around a list of urgent demands: more teachers to fill staffing gaps, investment in crumbling schools and reform of the university admissions platform. France’s presidential race was shaping up around affordability, security and healthcare. Now a mass movement over public education has caught Emmanuel Macron’s appointed government on the back foot.
Prime minister Sébastien Lecornu was quick to frame the movement as “urban violence”. Recalling the yellow vests protests that paralysed the country in 2018, Lecornu fell back on a tried-and-tested method: deploying one of Europe’s largest specialised anti-riot forces to break the blockades. Interior minister Laurent Nuñez said that police were to use “all crowd-control weapons” to “put an end to” disorder.
The gamble quickly backfired. Videos of violent confrontations between teens and riot police went viral. Since the protests began, 24 schools have been burned or ransacked, while widely shared footage of a 15-year-old losing his hand when a police stun grenade exploded has sparked public outrage.
Candidates for the presidential election next April rushed to capitalise on the protests. Far-right poll leader Marine Le Pen doubled down on “violence in schools” and the need for “more security”, while left-wing candidate Jean-Luc Mélenchon called for a human buffer between police officers and students, hoping to turn anger over public services into votes.
Faced with a bad-press spiral, Lecornu changed his tune on Wednesday, opening dialogue and promising “solutions” by the end of the month. But France’s debt crisis leaves the government with little room to offer more and barricades rose again on Thursday.
But France’s education crisis, like that of many European countries, is not just budgetary. On paper, education is one of the government’s biggest spending items, set to reach €65.5bn in 2027 (about €2bn more than defence). But as the number of students and costs rise, headline spending can mask a squeeze on resources per pupil.
In France, public spending per student on higher education and research has fallen by about 20 per cent in real terms since 2017. The UK offers a similar example, with spending per secondary-school pupil at three per cent less than its level in 2010-2011, according to the Institute for Fiscal Studies.
Across Europe, the decay of public services amid rising living costs seems to be culminating in a political ras-le-bol – a colourful French idiom that depicts a bowl filled to the brim and about to overflow. In Belgium, students have started their own blockades, while in Spain, the eviction of an elderly woman rallied thousands of rent-fatigued Spaniards onto the streets.
This year’s youth-led protest season raises the question: who will turn that anger into political change? In France and Spain, the left is positioning itself around affordability, housing and public services, while the far right doubles down on immigration. Both sides have made gains among younger voters.
For now, electoral calculations remain far from the minds of French teenagers. “I don’t know much about the right and the left,” said Jeanne, 16, listening in as a student in a Spider-Man costume gave an impassioned speech through a megaphone. “I just hope that they’ll vote for a president who makes the schools better.” Politically, the protests have already succeeded in putting public education back on the presidential menu – all thanks to a generation that can’t vote.
Piloting an F-35 over the Nevada desert, your Monocle correspondent attempts a barrel roll. It proves surprisingly easy, so she does a few more, prompting the former Marine Corps pilot overseeing the flight to nudge the aircraft in the direction of the enemy. Finger on the trigger, I follow his directions and gently press the red button, sending a few small dots flying across the screen towards another vague target in the distance.
Considering that I’m in the seat of a simulator of one of the most advanced fighter jets in the world, it is a little lacking in drama. But there is no lack of tension when it comes to the F-35’s position in geopolitics today. With a raft of new orders from Europe and controversy over potential sales elsewhere, the symbol of US air superiority is having a moment.
In September, Lockheed Martin handed over Germany’s first F-35A Lightning II, with 34 more to come. A week later, Finland welcomed its first of 64 F-35As. Poland, meanwhile, got the first delivery of its F-35s in May.
“We are getting very strong international demand,” says James King, director of the US Navy F-35C programme at Lockheed Martin, adding that the company can currently produce 156 of the aircraft each year. “That is what the Joint Program Office wants us to execute. We obviously believe that we could do more. We would like to do more but that’s going to take a consistent demand signal to increase that capacity.”
It’s no surprise that Europe is clamouring for the best US military technology. With Russia’s assault on Ukraine in its fifth year, concerns are growing about spillover into the rest of Europe. Germany’s intelligence chief warned this week that the country risked getting into a “violent conflict” with Russia, with a drone attack on Leipzig airport in August raising tensions.
Last month, Polish prime minister Donald Tusk cautioned that Moscow could be planning drone and missile strikes on European nations supporting Ukraine. An uptick in F-35 orders is understandable, given that the plane is considered to be one of the most advanced stealth fighters in the skies right now, with more than 1,355 operational around the globe.
Speaking at the Lockheed Martin Global Vision Center in Arlington, Virginia, senior vice-president for global business development and strategy Dan Tenney referred to the countries that they sell their F-35s to as “allies”. But who those allies are is not up to Lockheed Martin: the sale of F-35s is strictly controlled by the US government. A country wishing to acquire the fighters must do so via an application to the State Department and face a lengthy vetting and approval process.
The F-35A Lightning II was developed by the US with financial assistance from seven other nations in the Joint Strike Fighter programme – the UK, Canada, Italy, the Netherlands, Australia, Denmark and Norway. Sales to 12 other countries have been approved. Turkey was initially part of the Joint Strike Fighter scheme but it was removed in 2019 after purchasing Russian-made air defences. But Trump has suggested that Turkey might yet receive the jets, telling reporters at July’s Nato summit that he had “no concerns” over the Russian systems.
The State Department also approved a potential $24.3bn (€21.7bn) sale of 48 F-35s to Saudi Arabia last month. Right now, Israel is the only nation in the Middle East with F-35s, a strategic decision by the US to ensure that it has a military advantage in the region. This potential sale has raised concern in Tel Aviv as well as in some corners of Washington. Saudi Arabia has conducted joint military exercises with China, igniting fears that Beijing could gain access to the elite US technology. The US Congress can review the sale and that process is currently ongoing.
Lockheed Martin executives would not address questions on who gets the F-35s, given that it’s a government decision. But with ongoing security concerns in Europe, and a US administration searching for allies in a region that has been thrown into turmoil by the country’s assault on Iran, King might soon get his wish for more orders.
