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What Can We Learn from Art in Times of Crisis?
A Review of Wolfgang Welsch’s We Have Always Been Transcultural: The Arts as an Example
Ralf Beuthan
Abstract
This review of Wolfgang Welsch’s We Have Always Been Transcultural: The Arts as an Example highlights the book’s central argument that cultures are not self-contained, monolithic entities but fundamentally interwoven and relational. Against the backdrop of today’s global crises and the resurgence of cultural essentialism, Welsch shows through diverse artworks—from sculpture and painting to music, film, and comics—that transculturality has always shaped human creativity. His method combines phenomenological description with a typology of transcultural forms, allowing readers to see how cultural interconnections generate aesthetic innovation. Welsch further argues for aesthetic universals grounded in evolutionary and cognitive capacities, positioning beauty as an objective marker of self-organization. While the book occasionally blurs descriptive and normative dimensions of transculturality, it powerfully demonstrates that transcultural understanding is not a luxury but a necessity in times of crisis. Art emerges here as a vital medium for fostering intercultural dialogue, mutual recognition, and shared humanity.
Key Words
arts; culture; interculturality; transculturality
1. Our present and its culture(s)
We live in unsettled times. We are currently witnessing dramatic geopolitical tremors and shifts in the tectonics of global politics. The drastic consequences of the climate crisis are becoming ever more evident, the scope of the crisis of democracy ever more alarming, and the upheavals in global finance and economic processes ever more pressing—not to mention the energy crisis, the demographically induced crises of social systems, and refugee crises. Bizarre reactions are not absent—across both sides of the political spectrum and everything in between: from nationalism and populism to “wokeism” and identity politics. Yet these various reactions observable worldwide share a remarkable tendency: to inflate cultural differences into insurmountable barriers. The prevailing belief seems to be that cultures separate people rather than connect them.
That we experience in this age of digitalization and global networking a media-based co-presence of different cultures is evidently not enough to satisfy the crisis-induced deep need for security through clear cultural anchoring and strong demarcations. In fact, it seems to fuel it. People increasingly rely on simple—that is, long-familiar—notions of culture. With the familiar, all-too-human schema of “our culture vs. foreign culture” comes the hope of bringing some order into one’s own convictions—a comprehensible hope. It is tempting to believe that the perceived chaos of the world can be warded off by imagining a culturally stable order—always, of course, one’s own. Yet this is an illusion. Even more illusory is the assumption that emphasizing the differences between one’s own and foreign cultures could, in times of global crises, bring calm or even preserve world peace. The opposite is the case. The ideologization of the difference between one’s own and foreign cultures is a highly dangerous tendency that undermines our understanding of a shared human world. It reinforces a mentality that occasionally may speak of peace, but in fact promotes tendencies toward war. The question of what culture means for us is therefore not just a matter of whether one enjoys visiting museums or not but an eminently political question. Our worldview and our conception of humanity are at stake.
But how and where can we learn to understand that culture—and thus human life itself—is perhaps not as exclusive and polemical at its core as the seductive schema of “foreign vs. our culture” suggests? Where can we learn that human culture is not something that must divide us, but something that can connect us—indeed, something that can be a source of creativity, beauty, and a fulfilling life? Where can we experience what unites and reconciles between and within cultures? The answer—rarely heard, but simple—is: in art.
2. An offer we can’t refuse
A welcome exception here is the recent English-language publication by the German philosopher and aesthetician Wolfgang Welsch. In his book, We Have Always Been Transcultural (2024),[1] he argues for the exemplary character of art. Art, he claims, can teach us a more adequate and contemporary understanding of culture. Drawing on artworks from virtually every domain of art (painting, sculpture, music, literature, architecture, dance, theater, film, comics) and from various cultural spheres (Asia, Europe, Africa, North and South America), Welsch pursues a fundamental question: How are cultures actually constituted? And he critically asks the question on which so much hinges, practically and theoretically, namely whether our cultural life is really so monolithic that cultures, at their core, face each other like alien worlds. Is cultural difference—undeniable as it is—to be understood in such a way that relationships between cultures are ultimately secondary? Welsch’s new book shows that we must think of cultures, even in their differences, as genuinely connected and interwoven. The relational structure that links cultures is not external to them but inscribed within them. Welsch brings this central, yet too often neglected, thought of genuine cultural interconnectedness under the concept of “transculturality,” which he first developed in the early 1990s.
With this concept Welsch sharply distances himself from classical academic and especially anthropological approaches that argue we must understand a culture solely from within itself if we want to truly understand and appreciate it. Needless to say, such an argument has been mainstream—and often still is—in many disciplines such as philosophy, literary history, art history, and anthropology. Expert cultures, with their ideological or methodological restrictions to one cultural sphere (Eurocentrism, Sinocentrism, and so on) and their habitual emphasis on fundamental cultural differences, long promoted monolithic views. This has been, and still is, a theoretical breeding ground for today’s politically fueled desire for a simplistic yet ultimately misleading understanding of culture. That such a simplification prepares the ideological ground for global crises to culminate in wars should be obvious. That such an understanding of culture is still taught even in academic contexts should at the very least prompt theoretical and educational reflection. Now more than ever is the time to question our familiar, exclusionary conceptions of culture. And Welsch makes the attractive offer of doing so not purely academically—that is, in endless scholarly discourses—but concretely and vividly, starting from artworks.
His methodological decision to question prevailing understandings of culture through concrete examples from art and to argue for the genuine interconnectedness of cultures—their transculturality—is both unusual and persuasive. It allows the reader, as viewer, to verify for themselves, and as viewer, to reflect on their aesthetic experience while reading. The key terms and ideas are not wrapped in academic jargon, but are made plausible through perception and aesthetic experience. The brief, theoretically streamlined chapters always circle around vivid examples of art that thankfully are illustrated wherever possible (with nonvisual arts such as music and film elegantly and accessibly summarized for lay readers; the only drawback of the numerous illustrations is not theoretical, but financial: many color images make books expensive, as here).
3. Methodological challenges
It would be a misunderstanding to think Welsch’s primacy of perception comes at the expense of theoretical reflection. Reading and viewing carefully, one notices how the extensive theoretical and aesthetic expertise of his entire academic career flows into his selected examples from nearly all areas of art and world regions. With remarkable lightness Welsch guides us, through the arts, into a complex world of thought whose philosophical beginnings lie in phenomenology, Aristotle[2], and postmodernity,[3] whose key discoveries are in the field of reason theory (cf. Welsch’s 1990s concept of “transversal reason,”[4] in which he also first developed “transculturality”[5]), aesthetics,[6] and more recently anthropology.[7] His favored procedure—eschewing intricate logical or metaphysical derivations and instead grounding arguments descriptively in what is immediately given—strongly recalls the phenomenological primacy of description and, not coincidentally, Aristotle’s empirical sense, which gives little credit to Platonic moves toward idea-worlds (or today’s analogous information-theoretic models and formalisms).
The descriptions of individual artworks never dissolve into confusing “joyful plurality,” as postmodernism was once mockingly accused of. The theoretical focus remains intact despite the impressive abundance of examples. Welsch masters the art of dosage. His descriptions always open up general theoretical contexts from the works themselves. One can rightly speak here of an “aesthetic thinking” realized differently, but more accessibly, than in Adorno. Welsch’s book addresses not only experts but all readers who wish to learn something about art, culture, and themselves—and at the cutting edge of current thought.
The argument for transculturality unfolds over ten chapters, always along examples from the arts. Occasionally theoretical positions are sketched—especially in the first chapter, which introduces the concept and its historical, substantive, and political perspectives. Welsch stresses above all that transculturality must not be confused with multiculturality or interculturality. His main argument against multiculturalism and interculturalism is that cultures cannot be understood as “autonomous spheres” (3)—“internally homogeneous and clearly delimited externally” (2)—as these concepts seem to presuppose, which is not entirely uncontroversial. Rather, cultures must be understood in terms of their—in some cases very diverse—–relationship structures. It is precisely here that the eminently political and communication-theoretical orientation of this argument can be seen. For, as Welsch emphatically points out, only under the premise of the transculturality of cultures is “real communication” (3) between cultures possible. Welsch argues against the concept of interculturality: “Heterogeneous spheres can only bump into each other, not understand each other” (3). This also points to a didactic goal of this book: Learning to see the transculturality of cultures in works of art means learning to understand other cultures and oneself, and one’s own culture, in the world of cultures in a better way, namely as diversely connected. More pointedly: experiencing art means not only forming oneself but also forming the ability to communicate between cultures.
As much as the core theses and objectives are to be welcomed, the pointed argumentation for transculturality and against interculturality, which relies heavily on strong oppositions, is only plausible at first glance. What are the critical points? The argumentation essentially hinges on the distinction between “spherical model of culture – yes or no?” This distinction, which is indeed very important in cultural philosophy, functions here, in the question of the concept of interculturality, as a rhetorical-strategic means of effectively dismissing the concept of interculturality in favor of transculturality in a single move, or of making it appear fundamentally flawed. As suggestive as this may be, it is in fact only a caricature of interculturality that has been dismissed here. Even if the concept of interculturality emphasizes the difference between cultures—which seems to me to be an accurate observation—the emphasis on difference does not imply, conceptually or theoretically, that mixtures are excluded. On the other hand, however, the observation and demand for a “dialogue” between cultures shared by interculturalists and transculturalists implies a situation in which cultures also present themselves as different (and not just mistakenly). For without difference there can be no dialogue, neither intercultural nor transcultural. But while the latter seems to emphasize the conditions for success more than the former, the former more strongly emphasizes the problematic starting conditions. There is neither a contradiction nor an exclusionary relationship between these options.
But back to Welsch’s actual undertaking, namely to demonstrate the transculturality of cultures in the arts. This not only stands in stark contrast to established views and institutionalized disciplines (for example, Korean literary history, European or Asian art history, and so on) but also presents a methodological challenge. How should one understand a work of art when the premise of transculturality already implies that the usual methods with their culture-internal and national contextualizations or genealogies cannot be sufficient? Welsch makes an extremely helpful offer here, which can also be applied beyond his book. The idea is not, as one might fear, to ignore historical contexts as researched by the respective disciplines. Rather, it is to deepen the historical perspective temporally and broaden it spatially so that constitutive connections between cultures come into view—for example, mutual influences between European and Asian cultures. More precisely, Welsch’s method entails a double transcendence of traditional perspectives: first, the deepening and widening of historical perspectives so that influences from other cultures can be thematized and adequately perceived in the concrete form of an artwork; second, the transcendence of monolithic hermeneutics toward a conceptual explication of the specific form of transculturality. “Transculturality knows many forms” (6), Welsch stresses; what matters is to understand, in each concrete case, which form is at play. This resolves the methodological problem that the usual monolithic perspectives cannot do justice to art’s transcultural forms because they try to slot a work into a closed cultural history. The transcultural perspective does not simply add more historical influences but identifies the specific type of transcultural form. In short: alongside historical deepening and widening, the procedure is explicitly typological. It develops a typology of relational structures from the phenomena (artworks). Instead of a final assignment of a work to a monolithic history, this method aims at recognizing a specific type of transculturality—the specific aesthetic form in which diverse cultural histories creatively and exemplarily converge. We thus learn to grasp transcultural formations in their variety rather than merely recount their stories.
4. Transcultural forms
The list of case studies is long and varied. Readers with different tastes and backgrounds can discover instructive, inspiring, and surprising examples. Particularly illuminating are the discussions of mutual influence between Asian and European culture, which produced exemplary creative aesthetic forms now known and valued worldwide, though their transcultural signature often goes unrecognized (see the example of Buddha sculptures in Chapter II). Ultimately all examples show clearly: transculturality is not only a historically valid finding but also a source of creativity. Exchanges between cultures do not—as is once again too often claimed—lead to decline, but to transformation and enhancement of culture. Universally admired works of art emerge precisely from such transformations.
This does not mean every transcultural form is per se successful. Welsch makes it clear that the diversity of transcultural forms also includes undesirable manifestations. Transculturality is no paradise, but demands a heightened sense of reality and specificity. In short, the concept of transculturality is also a plea for an enlightened realism in cultural matters. This obviously includes critical awareness of violent appropriations of other cultures. But it also includes—given today’s hypersensitivity about “cultural appropriation”—the equally important awareness that culture never exists as pure culture, but always bears the traces of its constitutive exchanges. Thus, Welsch objects to the current blanket condemnation of “appropriation”: “Anyone who wanted to prohibit appropriation in general would be condemning the ratio essendi of cultures – including the very ones he claims to be advocating” (14).
The different types of transculturality are, as noted, vividly differentiated through examples from various arts, countries, and eras. Each chapter targets a particular type of transculturality. The range runs from the dialectic of “the own and the other” (Ch. I) through modes of “transformation” (Ch. II) to the typology of today’s “transcultural everyday” (Ch. X), for which jazz, hip-hop, and manga serve as examples. The journey through all chapters and examples is far more than a learned, original overview of artworks that also instill a sense of transcultural standards of education. It is rather an exercise in what Kant called “reflective judgment”—that mental agility without which a modern consciousness is unthinkable. One watches a faculty of judgment at work that, in viewing artworks, does not cling to preconceived universals and convictions, but reshapes and reconfigures its concepts from the concrete phenomenon. Such a capacity is a condition of creativity—in theory, in practice, and certainly in the practice of art.
5. An “aesthetic universalism”
A crucial insight of the book appears in the penultimate chapter. While the preceding chapters present a typology of transculturality realized through mixtures and transformations of different cultural elements in individual works, Welsch takes a further, deeper step. He argues for a “universal layer of depth” (183) in aesthetic experience. Here it becomes unmistakably clear that Welsch does not advocate relativism in art. He is ultimately a universalist. He explains the fact that historically and substantively highly culture-specific works can enjoy cross-cultural appreciation by an evolutionary “reversion to the pre-cultural,” namely to an experience of beauty possible in the cognitive apparatus of all humans. What looks at first like a Kantian argument is in fact a decidedly un-Kantian naturalism. For the experience of universally attractive beauty is not grounded in a purely subjective play of cognitive faculties but in the function of perceiving “self-similarity” (187), as found in symmetry—including the “golden ratio”—as a general principle of nature, namely “self-organization” (187). Put simply: the experience of beauty is a detector of the living. It is not primarily subjective; it is objective. The sense of beauty discovers “objective” forms of self-organization—though of course this also elicits a particular reception experience in the viewer. Welsch calls it a “holistic reception” (186), in which “our perceptual apparatus is activated as a whole,” so that genuine beauty experience can even be described neurologically as a “state of integral resonance” spreading “throughout the whole cortex” (186). In this argument for “aesthetic universals” (184), Welsch’s years of research in anthropology become evident (cf. Homo mundanus), by which he can now, even in aesthetics, firmly rebut charges of arbitrariness and relativism that his earlier postmodern aesthetics and critique of reason (Transversal Reason) had faced—this time with a distinctly naturalistic grounding.
Despite occasional recourse to theories such as evolution, the whole book is, as noted, phenomenological in the broadest sense: it orients itself to concrete artworks and develops from them the various types of transculturality. Nothing prevents readers from extending the list of artworks (including, say, video games) and perhaps even the typology of transculturality itself. Welsch’s proposed methodology is open to that—a considerable advantage. This raises the question whether, beyond this, there might also be a systematic desideratum hard to address within a purely phenomenological-typological perspective.
6. A desideratum
Indeed, there is a certain ambiguity in the concept of transculturality that deserves closer examination. Transculturality is, on the one hand, a descriptive concept that, as we have seen, encompasses equally desirable cases (see experiences of beauty) and unsuccessful ones (see, for example, colonial appropriations). On the other hand, it repeatedly appears as a normative concept—not merely describing existing cultural phenomena but also pointing to how things ought to be. Right at the beginning of his book, Welsch stresses: “Not only to state transculturality, but to stand up for it is called for in our time” (7). That is surely true. But it is also highly suggestive. And since the long list of major works of art appreciated across cultures is convincingly presented as transcultural forms, and since one may personally connect them with an experience of beauty, the question of “ought” seems scarcely to arise. Success speaks for itself—or so it appears. Yet philosophically this connection is by no means trivial. What, in fact, is it that lends transculturality its normative force? The possible and suggested answers are manifold: its significance for the possibility of communication, its significance for life and survival, its significance for aesthetic experience … such answers are hinted at, but ultimately not made explicit as responses to the question of the normative dimension of transculturality. Of course, this is not Welsch’s aim. His aim is rather to demonstrate, with examples from the arts as we encounter them in history worldwide up to the present, that “we have always been transcultural.” This demonstration is, without doubt, successful. And it is anything but trivial. Yet we as readers and contemporaries of a difficult modernity cannot help—indeed not without Welsch’s influence—gaining the impression that we must take transculturality not only historically seriously but also practically embody it in our lives. Thus, we cannot exclude the question of the normativity of transculturality. One may hope that this question will be addressed elsewhere.
But that today, of all times—amid global crises, political upheavals, and new polarizations—“transcultural understanding” (209) means decidedly more than a “pious wish” (209) to which one might occasionally yield a little in one’s leisure, is certain. Welsch is right: transcultural understanding is “an elementary necessity of our time” (209). Without it, humanity—certainly humaneness—may not survive this century. So let us learn transcultural understanding where it has always given rise to successful forms: in the world of the arts. Welsch’s book shows us a beautiful path through this world, one that can only be recommended to all to discover and follow. A must for everyone engaged with aesthetics, the arts, and culture. An inspiration for teachers and learners, artists, and curators.
Ralf Beuthan
beuthan@gmail.com
Ralf Beuthan is a professor of philosophy. After studying philosophy, literature studies, and media and film studies, he received his Master of Arts in Philosophy at Technical University of Braunschweig, and later his PhD. in film and philosophy at Otto-von-Guericke University of Magdeburg. At the Friedrich-Schiller-University of Jena, he worked as a research associate at interdisciplinary projects, first on Hegel’s concept of historicity of knowledge and normativity, later on the role of education (“Bildung”) for the actualization of freedom. Since 2011, he is a professor of philosophy at Myongji University in Seoul. He is currently focusing on digitality (in particular on video games and AI), aesthetics, and ethics of medialized lifeworlds.
Published on January 14, 2026.
Cite this article: Ralf Beuthan, “What Can We Learn from Art in Times of Crisis?
A Review of Wolfgang Welsch’s We Have Always Been Transcultural: The Arts as an Example,” Contemporary Aesthetics, Volume 24 (2026), accessed date.
Endnotes
[1] Wolfgang Welsch, We Have Always Been Transcultural: The Arts as an Example (Brill, 2024). Wolfgang Welsch, Homo mundanus – Jenseits der anthropischen Denkform der Moderne (Velbrück Wissenschaft, 2012).
[2] See Wolfgang Welsch, Aisthesis: Grundzüge und Perspektiven der Aristotelischen Sinneslehre (Stuttgart, 1987).
[3] See Wolfgang Welsch, Unsere postmoderne Moderne (Acta humaniora, 1987).
[4] Wolfgang Welsch, Vernunft. Die zeitgenössische Vernunftkritik und das Konzept der transversalen Vernunft (Suhrkamp, 1995).
[5] See later also Wolfgang Welsch, Transkulturalität: Realität – Geschichte – Aufgabe (New academic press, 2017) .
[6] See WolfgangWelsch, Grenzgänge der Ästhetik (Reclam, 1996; Aesthetics beyond Aesthetics (Henan University Press, 2021).
[7] Welsch, Homo mundanus.