BY MARK BOSCH
Any nuanced view will take into account what it means to invest in the arts well, which is undoubtedly a matter of degree and of procedure (how much investment, how often, how fairly distributed, at what cost to artists, to audiences, and so on), and a matter of discourse: just what do we talk about when we talk about investment in the arts?
If we’re talking about the funnelling of resources into the coffers of just 28 major performing arts companies, well, count me out of the conversation. More than half of the Australia Council’s funding goes to cultural institutions that prioritise “traditional art forms and repertoire”, entrenching a culture of what one industry professional calls “overfund[ed] mediocrity”.
The safe and stodgy approach to programming for the big 28 seems to smack of poor visioning. We often hear the same old operas, same old symphonies, the occasional token experiment. Earlier this year, acclaimed artist Mike Parr, who you may remember as the man who buried himself beneath Hobart’s Macquarie St as part of the city’s Dark Mofo festival, described the state of art in Australia as “moribund […a] lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance”. This remark would not sound out of place coming from any classical music industry professional of similar standing.
Now, it’s important not to overstate the case. Not even the cultural heavyweights are necessarily sitting pretty. In 2017, Opera Australia suffered a $2.1 million operating loss, while the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra barely broke even, which, despite receiving close to three quarters of its revenue from government funding, appears a standard outcome for the institution. Indeed, the 2012 book The Perilous Life of Symphony Orchestras by Stanford economics professor Robert J Flanagan details why it may be impossible for the modern orchestra as we know it to ever be, in itself, profitable, due to the huge, by-and-large irreducible costs incurred just from keeping calm and carrying on.
But whither the little guy? Whither the arcane grant application processes that class so many out before they’ve even begun? Whither art that is fresh, speculative, mind-blowingly, earth-shatteringly audacious?
Anecdote: after a recent chat with Solomon Frank of Esnbemble Onzbsembl, I attended their September 5 gig. After the gig, I went to grab some dinner with this Enzembl; during which time we talked briefly and in nervous jest about how, on one occasion, its members got paid $3 each for a gig.
To place this into a broader context, New South Wales spent just $65,000 on contemporary music projects across a period of 10 years. Let’s call this figure what it is: pittance. Absolute pittance.
All of this is but a glance at the ever-increasingly urgent cultural and financial problems gripping the music industry. Most of us are experts in casting glances; not so much in taking the long hard look. But that is exactly what is required. As everyday creators and consumers of Australian music, we need to take a long hard look at what kind of cultural landscape we’d be proud to call ourselves a part of.
The parliamentary inquiry into the Factors contributing to the growth and sustainability of the Australian music industry is just that: a chance to share in what has the potential to kickstart the long hard look required.
If, like me, you interact in some way with the Australian music industry, you almost certainly have something critical and constructive to offer. And if, like me, you are considerably jaded about the state of politics in this country, your first thought is likely that a submission won’t change a thing. But, to be blunt, it will: for one, it will actually be read by people with a significant stake in the matter. And then they’ll read the next one, which might just make similar arguments to yours; and the one after that, which might just follow suit.
Submissions do not have to be long or written in dreaded legalese, or indeed written at all: they can be presented in an audio-visual format. Anybody can make a submission.
The material reality is that a sustainable music industry means sustainable venues, sustainable careers, and sustainable everything else that goes with. And, just as with any important cause, we cannot keep quiet about or remain complicit in the slow disintegration of our cultural landscape. Is the artist without an audience really an artist?
Similarly, we must always strive to speak our truths; to speak the world we want to see. Otherwise, we devalue ourselves and the very real stake we all share in the Australian music industry. We cannot keep our opinions to ourselves.
UPDATE: 17 December 2018. Submissions to the parliamentary inquiry into the Australian music industry have now closed.
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Sydney Opera House by LBM1948 via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0.
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