Sideways collaboration
Composer James Garner has not been letting the grass grow under his feet. He writes about investing energy into the new - after all (as we all know) “artists are creative and tenacious by virtue of their very profession”.
Soon after the UK’s theatres went dark and the inevitable lockdown was subsequently imposed, family, friends and colleagues began to ask you...
“So, are you managing to keep busy?” The implication being...
“Are you really doing anything now?”
As a freelance artist, this is your all-time favourite work-related question to receive: always fun to answer, even during a global pandemic. If a career in the arts didn’t already require enough energy in repeatedly proving your worth or relevance, you’ve now found yourself dressing up your quarantine with a light smattering of bullshit. Just to paint the illusion of activity and assuage any genuine concern.
“Well, I’m still teaching so that’s good. I’m getting back to yoga too.”
A lie.
“And I’ve also been wanting to brush up on my French, so I’m planning to revise that next. Reading a few interesting books too...”
You bought five books and were barely six pages into any single one of them. But it sounded good, so you waited for them to smile or respond encouragingly.
“What about you?”
Now, I apologise. I’ve projected this scenario onto you, the reader. Sorry, but I know I can’t be the only one who has felt this way at some stage over the last few months. Up until quite recently, I had been feeling anxious, unusually strongly and on most days. With the performing arts sector plunged into literal darkness, it’s very sensible to assume that the push for productivity subsides. But self-pressurising is a pattern that is hard to escape, so when I wasn’t pursuing an effortful programme of self-enrichment, I was making lists of jobs to get done. Update CV, email so-and-so, talk to website designer, research material for future operas, email some more, sing, practise piano, more emailing... I don’t think my investment in the news or the attention economy added positively to the overall effect.
I hadn’t expected to feel like that under lockdown, given that (on paper) it isn’t so radically different to my usual lifestyle. I’ve worked as a composer, musical director and educator for five years now, so I’m used to spending a lot of time at home, albeit without the backdrop of a pandemic. After the first month or so of confinement, I managed to ease into a gentler quotidian rhythm and, crucially, I dropped any expectation of when normality would return. I know I’m not the only artist who has found this period complicated and for some it may have even felt welcome; several of my more prolific friends had reached burn-out around the time that industry activity stopped. But now, I can honestly say that I’m enjoying lockdown. There are days where worry bubbles to the surface, but music helps, moving helps, being mindful helps.
Still, from a bird’s eye view, our artistic and cultural landscape is rapidly dissolving and this is hugely distressing to anyone who works in the arts and heritage sectors. At the beginning of the year, the BBC began cutting jobs. Fast forward five months and we’re processing news of further job cuts at the BBC, the potential loss of BBC Four, the introduction of mandatory visas for EU artists visiting the UK, as well as announcements declaring the insolvency of several regional theatres. I have to admit it was particularly upsetting to hear about the historic Leicester Haymarket, my childhood theatre, which after suffering financial strain in the early 2000s and standing derelict for years, was recently reopened only to swiftly fall into liquidation a few weeks ago. It goes without saying that we really cannot stop demanding an emergency investment package from the UK government – it is paramount to bolstering our cultural infrastructure against obliteration.
But there is also power in action. Kick-starting “big” theatre is seen as the main priority by some, however I really don’t believe the answer to securing our diverse ecosystem is found in simply engineering an economically viable, socially-distanced West End. To quote something the brilliant Michael Mori (Artistic Director of Tapestry Opera) encouraged recently, we should “invest our energies in what can be done”. I think this can apply to all artistic entities, big or small, as well as individuals like me. I’ve had contact with several organisations in the UK and abroad that are conceiving brilliant work at this time, as well as planning for the future. In the last month, I’ve discussed everything from remote outreach projects and blended learning programmes for young composers, to digital partnerships and adapting opera for radio. About a week ago, Patrick Hansen (Director of Opera McGill at the Schulich School of Music) unveiled exciting plans for a totally remote autumn semester and using methods pioneered by Mori, his programme will workshop scenes from my opera-in-progress, Much Ado, which is slated for a theatrical premiere in 2022.
I’ll wrap things up: artists are creative and tenacious by virtue of their very profession. Despite monumental challenges, I’ve seen substantial proactivity and it is accompanied by a growing feeling that protecting our intricate artistic ecosystem must involve reimagining it. For many organisations and venues, the window of opportunity we have is time-sensitive and I worry that complacency will ultimately be detrimental. What we, both artists and gatekeepers, can do is use this moment to consider engagement more enthusiastically than ever before. We can collaborate sideways: seek out mutual support and bridge the voids between our own often isolated sectors and sub-sectors, from theatre and opera to dance and cultural heritage. And we can plan radically: to invent, as well as restore.
http://www.jamesgarnercomposer.co.uk/