A museum is not a church or a cemetery, nor is it a franchise of a luxury establishment or one duty free Like an airport, it's the place where the collection meets the visitor, and the visitor meets legacies and memory. Thus, the newly arrived visitor leaving the museum can return to the present in a less fragmented, less lifeless and automated way—much more vibrant, more knowledgeable, more indebted, and more collective. When cultural manager András Szántó came to the MNAC last January to talk about the future of museums, he said that they had changed more in two decades than in the previous hundred years. Surely the same has happened with all cultural institutions. His focus was on the shift from museums oriented toward objects to museums directed toward people, with all that this implies: thinking of them as living, social spaces, buildings and stories that explain themselves and become transparent, understandable, and rewarding by using technology, design, and education. In other words, the move from cultural institutions based on exhibition (large exhibitions, festivals, etc.) to institutions based on relationships, knowledge, and experience.

Why are our social media feeds still buzzing with images, comments, and promotion of Rosalía? If I mention her, it's not to talk about her as an artist, but about what she represents and what kind of cultural context she embodies. First piece of evidence: the realization that the mainstream The dominant culture, the cultural industry, and cultural products that strive for commercial success have become the primary sites of symbolic production and social cohesion. To capture our attention without resorting to scandal, two things are needed: money—lots of it—and talent. In a media landscape where we access current events through outlets that have transformed information, persuasion, and marketing into a new form of realism, it's difficult to discern whether something has value simply because we see it everywhere, or whether we look at it and recognize it because it possesses inherent value.

When a woman is the protagonist of an event, public discourse will focus on her body and her psychology, as an emanation at the service of male fantasy. Categorizing women as "monstrous" is a strategy of distortion of the facts and classic misogyny. In the same week, Donald Trump has called Greta Thunberg "crazy," "troublemaker," "angry," "enraged," and the top brass of thealt-right Catalan dedicated to Eva Piquer, who has presented her book Defamation, adjectives like "weak" or "furious." Why do they find an angry woman so threatening? Why this gesture of infantilizing women as if they weren't sovereign over their actions? The angry woman is an uncontrollable woman, insubordinate to the leader or the military logic of control. The angry woman organizes her arguments from strength and discourse, not from the attributes traditionally associated with women, such as compassion, discretion, or sentimentality.

It's necessary to remember. Bibiana Ballbè has been running on Catalan public television for over 25 years; she has done so as a presenter, on programs such as Silence? and Illustrated bestiary, and as director and presenter, in CharacterHe also participated in the first season ofSoul and, lately, through his company, The Creative, he has promoted programs on TV3 such as Dopamine. Ballbè, despite the animosity she has provoked in the cultural sector and the controversies she has embodied, has never disappeared from our public budgets. In 2013, she wanted to inaugurate her time as curator of Arts Santa Mònica with a party to which she invited one hundred artists, many of whom declined to participate. The event never took place because the Department of Culture stopped it, but Ballbè has never shied away from the trends and a certain successful street smoke-peddling that claims the future of culture is a catwalk. All of this until arriving at Bestial, the program that TV3 premiered on Sunday and has received an avalanche of criticism online. The problem is not the character, who does not deceive the public – she is what she is – but the politicians and influential people in our media who put her in charge of that project at the time, and those who have now given her a voice and vote to certify the umpteenth death of culture in prime time in our public media. The personal lynching that has been carried out through social media in Ballbè does not help us understand the crux of the matter. In 2013, Joan Minguet Batllori spoke of it as a symptom of a certain trivialization of culture. More than ten years after this article, we could say that the debate is no longer about the trivialization of culture, but about its hijacking, its disappearance from the media.