2015: The Chain Bridge by Tom Davis

The Chain Bridge by Tom Davis.  Presented by The Street, directed by Caroline Stacey.  Designer – Imogen Keen; Sound – Kimmo Vennonen; Lighting – Gillian Schwab.  At The Street One, November 21-29, 2015.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
November 22

Most serious plays tell us truths we need to hear.  The Chain Bridge does that in one sense, but is also a salutary reminder that in some circumstances knowing the truth might be more destructive than we can bear.  Some of the best plays in the canon – like, say, Oedipus Rex or King Lear – have this theme.

Though Canberra writer Tom Davis, in this play, doesn’t have the same sense of economy of form as Sophocles or Shakespeare, his story of a young academic couple – Sarah (Kate Hosking) and her Hungarian-background husband Imre (Peter Cook) – arguing about the need for accuracy of historical truth in the book he is about to publish becomes as grim as Oedipus gouging out his eyes, when the truths about how Imre’s mother Eva (Geraldine Turner) survived the Nazi occupation at the end of World War II and the 1956 Hungarian revolution against the Russian occupiers, and finally arrived as a refugee in Australia in 1958. 

Two others had also escaped from Budapest – Katalin (Zsuzsi Soboslay) and József (PJ Williams) – arriving here in 1957, whose histories were closely entwined with Eva’s story.  Sarah, marrying into this migrant family where covering up truths is a necessary part of being freed from an awful past – being free in Australia – senses that she is not being told the truth, certainly by Imre’s mother, but maybe even by Imre himself.  Who, especially, was Imre’s father, mysteriously absent from the scene in Melbourne?

Since revelation is the purpose of the play, it’s not my place to reveal more of the story apart from saying that a resolution is achieved.  Sarah and Imre are nearly torn apart, but finally a point is reached where they are able to respect each other, and so can love each other – and let the argument about the truth become academic rather than a tear in the fabric of their relationship.

So the play is, in essence, very good.  It’s a measure of the success of The Street’s Hive playwriting program, including its First Seen staged readings, which provided the development stage of this work and Tom Davis’ next work, The Faithful Servant, which will appear in 2016.

An essential part of The Street’s role as a professional theatre emphasising new writing in Canberra is to give the works high quality direction and design.  Caroline Stacey is Artistic Director and CEO of the The Street and, for this production has put together an excellent team on stage and backstage.  The script requires scenes in Imre and Sarah’s Melbourne home to morph into remembered (or perhaps not truthfully remembered) scenes in Budapest, including occasions such as the German SS blowing up the Chain Bridge, the crossing of the Danube from Pest on the eastern side to Buda on the western bank, on the route from Hungary into Austria – an escape route from the Russian invasion.

This meant the actors playing the core roles all needed to play a wide variety of other roles in those historical (or maybe not truly historical) scenes.  The list looks bewildering:

Geraldine Turner – Eva/Woman/Villager/Townsman/Private (as in ‘soldier’)
Peter Cook – Imre/Tabor/Wisliceny/Arrow Cross/Gerö/Protester
Kate Hosking – Sarah/Deborah/Villager/Townsman/Corporal/Protester
ZsuZsi Soboslay – Katalin/Woman/Agnes/Dora/Villager/Townsman/Sergeant
PJ Williams – József/Samuel/Ferenc/Doctor/Villager/Townsman/Lieutenant/Arrow Cross, Domokos/Szabo

Phew!  Yet all these roles were clear, even including in scenes where some characters were in the past while others were in the present.  In fact there were scenes where past and present would shift from one to the other during continuous action.  It’s a measure of the careful writing and, of course, of the care taken in directing – as well as the skills of the actors in establishing and maintaining characters on cue. 

Set, lighting and sound required as much agility (just to throw in a current political term).  The basic set was abstract in form, using long narrow vertical poles which, with horrifyingly realistic sound effects of bomb explosions and gunfire, and lighting which could pick out details of a particular pole or characters between poles, gave the viewer an ever-changing array of images as time and place shifted.

Then there was the clever device of books, the play being about writing a book and about the ‘truth’ written in books.  Books were everywhere, with an interesting twist as they became the stones thrown at the Soviet Russian invaders.  Wikipedia tells the story of “The Hungarian resistance [which] continued until 10 November. Over 2,500 Hungarians and 700 Soviet troops were killed in the conflict, and 200,000 Hungarians fled as refugees.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hungarian_Revolution_of_1956)

It takes concentration on the audience’s part, over three hours with a 20 minute interval, but the effort is well worthwhile.  There’s a message here that we should all be careful about making assumptions about our neighbours in multicultural Australia.  To quote as nearly as I can remember: “It’s not just a story when your parents have been killed.”  And, of course, it’s highly ironic to watch this play about refugees from Hungary finding freedom in Australia while Hungary is building fences to keep out the refugees flooding in from being bombed in Syria.

For me there was also a personal note.  Only a year ago, before the refugee torrent was under way, I visited Budapest, heard the stories about how people tried to make their Communism into a softer form and provided others (such as a community of Serbs) with a bit more freedom than in other states, and the chance to cross into Austria where the Iron Curtain was a bit rusty.

I heard too about the 400-year history of the Austro-Hungarian Empire under the rule of the Hapsburg family, and the building of the Buda Palace – and I enjoyed the evening lights and the soup and dumplings on a Danube River cruise under the Chain Bridge, rebuilt with its sculptured horses.  But now I know so much more about the reality of the lives, especially of the women and how they survived.  I was born about the same time as Eva, winter 1940/41, and also have memories (but from London), perhaps true or maybe not entirely so, of hiding under a reinforced table in case the house was bombed, of air-raid sirens, of being born in such a snow-storm that my father could not get to the hospital. There was much in this play to remind me. 

I arrived in Australia in early 1955, while in 1956 a young teacher – the best English teacher I ever had – left Sydney to go to Hungary to watch, if not take part in, the revolution to throw the Russians out.  Whether he succeeded or not I will never know, since a recent book (2014) by a classmate records that Neil Hope, nicknamed Soap or Sope, “left the shores of Australia for what he hoped would be a less philistine society in Italy, only to die there in a motor-scooter accident.” 

As The Chain Bridge suggests, to know the truth about even one’s own past is not necessarily to know what really happened.

Whole cast of The Chain Bridge - dress rehearsal
Photo by Lorna Sim

© Frank McKone, Canberra

2015: Catalyst (formerly known as the National Program for Excellence in the Arts) Guidelines Released

From: "Ministry for the Arts" To: "Frank McKone"
Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2015 13:28:27

Special bulletin from the Ministry for the Arts - November 2015 Guidelines released for Catalyst - Australian Arts and Culture Fund The guidelines for Catalyst - Australian Arts and Culture Fund have been released. Catalyst (formerly known as the National Program for Excellence in the Arts) will provide funding of $12 million each year to small, medium and large arts organisations at a national, regional and community level. Priorities for the program include innovative projects by small to medium organisations, and projects that increase participation of regional Australians in the arts and enhance our international reputation. Funding can support activities such as performances, exhibitions, tours, development and creation of new work, festivals, investment in foundation or fellowship programs, and infrastructure and capacity-building projects. Arts Minister Mitch Fifield announced the new program today following consultation with the arts sector. The Minister has also restored $8 million per year to the Australia Council to primarily support small to medium organisations. Catalyst will complement the programs of the Australia Council and Creative Partnerships Australia which encourages private sector support to the arts.   Catalyst funding is available from three streams: partnerships and collaborations; innovation and participation; and international and cultural diplomacy. Applications will be assessed with the assistance of independent assessors. So far, over 300 assessors are registered with the Ministry for the Arts including artists, curators, philanthropists and audience members. Applications to Catalyst open on Friday 27 November. To see the guidelines and eligibility criteria, visit the Ministry for the Arts website. Read the Minister’s media release announcing Catalyst. main image credit: Todd Robinson Kilim 2012, Artbank Collection Annual rental, $700+GST Do you have feedback on our e-newsletter? Send us an email at artworks@arts.gov.au If you do not wish to receive future newsletters unsubscribe here Know someone who might be interested in this newsletter? Send to a friend Posted by Frank McKone

2015: Orlando by Virginia Woolf, adapted by Sarah Ruhl

Orlando from the novel by Virginia Woolf, adapted by Sarah Ruhl.  Sydney Theatre Company, directed by Sarah Goodes.  Designer – Renée Mulder; Lighting – Damien Cooper; Music – Alan John; Sound – Steve Francis.  Sydney Opera House, November 9 – December 19, 2015.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
November 16

Well – I had no idea Virginia Woolf could be so much fun.  Orlando begins his story as a typical Elizabethan swashbuckling man having an interesting affair with a Russian Princess.  Orlando ends her story in about 1930 driving her own car, married to an Archduke, having some confused memories and new-found feelings about the Russian Princess, and finding men still don’t understand women – especially when they now expect to behave and think like men.

As Sarah Goodes has written, “The story of Orlando is so epic, bold and brave, it soars through time, age, gender and space.”  This adaptation by Sarah Ruhl is a wonder to behold.  And enjoy. 

And it’s all done with just six terrific actors.  Their roles will give you some idea of the madcap sort of approach which makes the play so much fun to watch.

Jacqueline McKenzie is Orlando, who is desperate to become a great writer.  After several hundred years, his/her poem about the oak tree and the green grass is still never quite complete.

Luisa Hastings Edge plays Sasha, the Princess with a seemingly endless title.

The inimitable John Gaden is an absolutely magnificent Queen Elizabeth I, who also seems to have escaped from Alice in Wonderland, thoroughly lustful for the man with the most beautiful legs, Orlando. 

Polynesian actor Anthony Taufa is a poet, Othello, a seaman on Princess Sasha’s ship taking her away from Orlando (when Orlando is still a man).

Matthew Backer is Desdemona, horribly trying to defend herself as Othello so stupidly kills her, moralising all the way.  Backer is Orlando’s awful suitor Marmaduke in a later time, a kind of reverse image of Queen Elizabeth now that Orlando is a woman.

And Garth Holcombe is at times both the Archduke and an Archduchess.

Apart from Orlando, the other five come together in many different combinations as a Chorus who sing, observe, tell the story, make comments and provide Orlando with all he/she needs to continue on his/her way.

A huge movable set of stairs going up one side and down the other form a kind of pyramid which is opened up into many different configurations to reveal all manner of things, from a ‘cupboard under the stairs’ for props and costumes, to the prow of Sasha’s ship, to a secret mirrored space where the naked Orlando is exposed.

The sense of journey is conveyed by setting the action on a dual revolve, where the centre may turn, the outer rim may turn, together or separately, bringing actors or props (one was a fully laden banquet table which reminded me of Prospero’s entertainment by his spirits in The Tempest) into view or away as needed.

Such flexibility on the part of the actors, costumes and set design would have to make Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull proud from an economic point of view.  But he’ll have to rethink his position on same-sex marriage, methinks. 

And, as usual for Sydney Theatre Company productions, the program provides excellent background research material including an extract from Behind the Mask: The Life of Vita Sackville-West by Matthew Dennison.  Background notes tell us “Orlando (1928) was written for and dedicated to Vita Sackville-West whom Virginia met in 1922.  Somewhere between 1925 and 1929, their friendship developed into a love affair.”  The highlighted quote from Dennison fills in the picture: “...the catalyst for Vita’s sexual epiphany was a uniform of breeches and leather gaiters.  She would wear it for the rest of her life.”

So don’t miss Orlando, and make sure you take the extra $10 for the program.

Photos by Prudence Upton

 

 © Frank McKone, Canberra

2015: My Zinc Bed by David Hare

My Zinc Bed by David Hare.  Ensemble Theatre, Sydney, directed by Mark Kilmurry.  Designer – Tobhiyah Stone Feller; Lighting – Nicholas Higgins; Wardrobe – Alana Canceri; Make-up – Peggy Carter.  October 10 – November 22, 2015.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
November 14

It’s not clear to me why Victor Quinn (one-time British Communist, but nowadays – in the year 2000 – a wealthy financier) refers to his death bed as his ‘zinc’ bed.  Maybe it’s a reference to commodity prices: if the price of zinc falls, he is ‘dead’. 

But the deathly pallor of the metal might be an image of the mortuary bench on which  Quinn would have been laid out after his car crash.  Suicide?  Very likely. 

Especially since the play is horribly prescient of the Global Financial Crisis of 2008.

It’s easy to focus on the superficial question posed by Paul (poet – but only when he’s drunk) and Victor’s wife Elsa, already with two children and ruined by alcohol and drugs when he, Victor, rescued her from the floor of a bar in Denmark.  Is it really true that alcoholism is a disease which can be managed or cured – by Alcoholics Anonymous – or is this obsession built into some people’s genetic structure? 

Many others over its fifteen year life thought that was what the play is about, but I saw David Hare using alcoholism as just one example of obsessive human behaviour.  Others in this play are sexual lust – or falling in love – and power, which Victor epitomises, whether as Communist or financier, employer (of Paul) or husband.  He crashes when can no longer believe he is in control of any of these things – even including alcohol, five times over the legal driving limit in his bloodstream.

Not a very happy play, but Mark Kilmurry succeeds in making clear to his audience (and we do listen to a lot of talk) what is actually going on in the feelings of each character.

Danielle Carter plays Elsa Quinn with an awareness of her previous degradation, reliance on Victor and attraction for Paul which leaves us wishing she could do more than outwardly present the calmness and dignity she knows she needs for the sake of her children.

Sam O’Sullivan as Paul Peplow is physically almost as floppy as he is indeterminate mentally while maintaining AA rules; but when he drinks he becomes the sexual being, and poet, that Elsa can’t resist.

Sean Taylor as Victor is made up and dressed in absolute contrast to Paul’s pale and wan poet.  He has the presence and voice of authority about him – yet every now and then he senses his own insecurity.  Like when he makes and drinks a margarita or three.

However unhappy the play, this production is satisfying theatre.  This cast and this director have found the trick of David Hare’s writing, so that we both appreciate and even empathise with each character equally, and yet remain at just enough distance to see each in a clear objective light.

And in doing so, we see Hare’s purpose: to show how our natural human tendencies lead us, sometimes, into ineffable difficulties – in our personal lives as we interact with the world at large.  We need more than a version of Alcoholics Anonymous to save ourselves from a Global Financial Crisis.  Revelatory group meetings in a circle can become addictive, but can they permanently solve our behavioural contradictions?

This a worthwhile production of a significant play.



© Frank McKone, Canberra

2015: Mortido by Angela Betzien

Mortido by Angela Betzien.  Presented by Belvoir and State Theatre Company of South Australia, directed by Leticia Cáceres.  Set and Costume design – Robert Cousins; Lighting – Geoff Cobham; Composer – The Sweats; Sound design – Nate Edmondson; Movement – Scott Witt.  November 11 – December 17, 2015.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
November 14

Unfortunately, despite the author’s idea of a grand theme – I wonder, is the destructive drive of mortido in all of us?  Is it symbiotically linked with our drive for life, for self-preservation? – her play as staged in this joint production by the SA State Theatre and Belvoir is theatric rather than dramatic, simplistic rather than thematic.

The Currency Press blurb (you buy the whole script with the program for $13) reveals the problem.  “This is Betzien’s most ambitious play so far, and a brilliant portrait of the Emerald City: familiar, bizarre, glorious and mean.  A quintessential Sydney tale about crime, globalisation and the killer desire for a bigger house.”  My emphasis: it’s situational television, not the serious drama the blood and gore or the revelation of criminal behaviour pretends to be.

On stage, Detective Grubbe begins by telling a long Mexican story, the myth of El Gallito, the boy who comes back from the dead, to revenge his killing by drug-runners.  The central character is a Sydney school-dropout Jimmy, who is pressured by his brother-in-law Monte to carry out day-to-day cocaine importing work.  Monte is wealthy, living in Woollahra, married to Jimmy’s sister Scarlet.

In Act Two, the script reads:  EL GALLITO enters the bathroom.  He goes to the urinals.  JIMMY is hyper-aware of EL GALLITO’s presence, but MONTE ignores him.

I may be super-insensitive, but without my script in hand I took the appearance of this young man visiting the toilet apparently in a Sydney night-club to be no more than ordinary.  He stood beside Jimmy, facing the mirror.  JIMMY turns to look at him.  EL GALLITO leaves without looking at JIMMY.

This figure mysteriously appears, in Sydney, Germany or South America, only speaking Spanish, until Jimmy kills El Gallito.  Watching, I had no idea beyond a vague inkling that I was supposed to interpret this figure somehow – perhaps as a homosexual decoy in the business of drug dealing.  At the end, Grubbe completes the story he began four acts ago, about the death of La Madre, El Gallito’s mother.

On stage I thought I saw the anonymous Spanish-speaking man kill Jimmy, yet in the script I read They fall together.  EL GALLITO is dead.  Then I’m told: AT LA MADRE’S FUNERAL IN PUNCHBOWL, JIMMY listens as GRUBBE finishes the story.  Then JIMMY leaves the marigold flowers and is gone. GRUBBE remains.

Only by reading the script can I see what the author was trying to do: to turn a grubby cocaine importing business operating in Sydney suburbs into a story of mythical proportions.  This was why scenes were cued in by loud noises and flashes, perhaps of lightning.  That was why the blood and gore from the Spanish man’s box cutter was draped around Jimmy’s body as if in some kind of ceremony, and the Spanish man moved in the manner of a bull-fighter.  Perhaps.

I’m used to interpreting all kinds of theatrical imagery, but this one lost me.  There was no empathy for any of the characters, not even Jimmy.  Just a display of theatrics in a story that made almost no sense – without knowing at least who the anonymous Spanish speaking man was and what exactly was said.  And there were many more mysteries, about Oliver, Scarlet’s son, the German who seemed to be the mastermind (in Bolivia after WWII), Monte’s mother (the one buried at Punchbowl) and more.

Angela Betzien writes “Writing Mortido has been a thrilling adventure and I’m proud to say I’ve travelled to every location in the story: from the barrios of Mexico, to the hipster hub of Kreuzberg, from La Paz down El Camino de la Muerte to Coroico, and from a CBD nightclub to the pho-infused backstreets of Cabramatta....I’d like to thank everyone for joining me on this wild ride.”

Despite her enthusiasm, the experience for me was more confusion than wild. Leticia Cáceres’ Director’s Notes say “For me, making Mortido has been a process of distillation, of creating space for audiences to exercise their own imaginations.  Every step of the way we’ve asked ourselves: what elements do we really need to tell this tale?  To what extent can we trust the audience to listen, to feel, to know, to put the pieces of the puzzle together?”

I listened, I didn’t feel much, and I failed to put the pieces together.  Sigmund Freud’s idea of ‘mortido’ was always a bit weird, explained by Betzien as ‘the theory of the death drive, the instinct of all living things to return to an inanimate state’.  I wouldn’t put too much trust in that bit of imagination.

Tom Conroy as Jimmy, David Valencia as El Gallito

Photo by Brett Boardman


© Frank McKone, Canberra

2015: Paying the Piper: There has to be a Better Way by Cathy Hunt. Commentary.

Paying the Piper: There has to be a Better Way by Cathy Hunt.  Platform Papers No 45, Currency House, November 2015.

Commentary by Frank McKone

There are three aspects of Cathy Hunt’s detailed essay which need discussion:

What are The Arts for?

What roles have Australian governments played in the past?

What should Australian governments do next?

Her concluding section 7. Changing the paradigm: The Money Story begins:

“If we truly want our artists to succeed and to be recognised at home and overseas for their excellence and if we want our citizens actively engaged in arts and cultural activities in building strong healthy communities, then we need resilient organisations and a stable environment from which to create, experiment and grow.”

This is what The Arts are for.  I begin by wondering if mental boundaries are being set up here which don’t suit the amorphous shape of human art – should I be singing “Don’t fence me in”?

But then I think about what Aboriginal people call ‘culture’.  I’m an outsider to that culture, though I’ve been entertained and educated by Aboriginal artists in many forms.  It seems to me that their arts are so integrated into daily life that each artist (and this seems to mean most members, at least in more traditional communities) both works within cultural boundaries and also as an individual creating new interpretations which move boundaries in new directions – even across the major boundary dog-fence of the overwhelming invasion of the country and into the lives of the invaders, including me.

Have Aboriginal people ever needed to pose the question “If we truly want our artists...then....?"  I think not.  Art has just been there, always, and always will be.  If “we” have to pose the “If we want” type of question, we are presupposing that most people in our culture are separated, maybe “divorced”, from being artists. 

I think this goes to the heart of the issues raised in Cathy Hunt’s paper about what governments have done and might do in future.  For Aboriginal peoples, culture is central and all-encompassing in all governance matters.  Our Governments confine our arts to a small box at the bottom of a jumbled pile of supposedly much more serious weighty concerns. 

This was particularly harshly demonstrated in the recent Abbott-led cabinet arrangement where The Arts, usually at least a minor attachment to some vaguely related portfolio like Sports and Education, was given to the Attorney-General, would you believe?  At the A-G’s whim, money was hived off from the Australia Council to set up his favourite thing (you can sing this while dancing across green mountainsides)  the National Program for Excellence in the Arts.

Since the change in leadership, The Arts are now with Senator the Hon Mitchell Peter (Mitch) Fifield, Minister Assisting the Prime Minister for Digital Government, Minister for Communications, Minister for the Arts, and Manager of Government Business in the Senate.  Note the order of the boxes in this pile.

Good luck, I guess, to Cathy Hunt’s very sensible proposals about what our government should do with its money, but I have doubts that the core cultural paradigm is shifting.  I doubt our political decision makers will really understand that The Arts are central to everybody’s life, not to be mentally boxed and paid for simply to achieve political ends like being “recognised at home and overseas for their excellence” or “building strong healthy communities”. 

The Arts are an end in themselves.  Historically they do build communities, but who’s to say what “healthy” means?  Or what “excellence” consists of?  Glib words, but should governments be determining definitions?

I’m not criticising Cathy Hunt here, because her business-like analysis is concrete and realistic, reaching probably the best conclusions we can expect of our society.

I recall the excitement of establishing the Australia Council at arms length from political interference in 1967, the time of flowering of the rumbustious new wave in Australian Theatre.  Hunt usefully compares us with UK and Canada, but that bit of governmental history made us unique.  That peer-to-peer administration in The Arts (not ‘of’ The Arts), even though the money was never enough, was what made my small contribution more than a self-indulgent lifestyle choice (to quote one-time PM Tony Abbott, talking about outback Aboriginal communities). 

For nearly 50 years we have had the freedom to push against artistic boundaries, bend them and cross them, and the result is an Australian arts community writ large in a way that seemed impossible when I began teaching in 1963.

So where are we now after this year’s self-indulgence on the part of the Attorney-General.  According to Hunt, George Brandis in the May 2015 budget “announced that $123.3 million would be removed from the Australia Council budget allocation over four years, of which a proportion would be placed at the disposal of the Minister himself for the purpose of creating a new National Program for Excellence in the Arts.”

This is where Cathy Hunt excels.  She states firmly: “I don’t believe we need a review of the Australia Council and what it does. That has been done, a new governance model established and a new strategic plan developed based on extensive consultation with the sector and endorsed by the sitting government [before the May 2015 budget], and it was on the verge of being implemented [including an innovative six-year funding program]. The Council’s need for additional investment to undertake the work required was clearly articulated through that process.  But we may need a very different type of organisation from the one that is currently legislated for—one that can:

• Plan effectively for the future and for its entire budget and operations, without fear of unilateral intervention from the responsible Minister;
• Rely on diverse sources of financial input, so that it itself is less vulnerable to change, through partnerships with the private sector and the development of new investment mechanisms;
• Provide a range of different investment opportunities for the sector beyond grants,
working with other finance providers to create specific products of benefit to artists and arts organisations;
• Invest in the long-term resilience of artists and arts organisations without always requiring direct immediate program outcomes in return;
• Work with a new industry body and policy institute on research which will report on the impacts of the sector, provide the best possible advice to government on how best to invest in the sector and provide the best value for money;
• Be at the forefront of reporting its achievements through an integrated financial reporting mechanism which can measure all aspects of cultural, social and economic value from its investments to all partners.”

And, Hunt asks:

“So what are the conditions required to enable that vision for a ‘culturally ambitious nation’ to be fulfilled? There are three core ideas for any federal government action that I want to reiterate here:

• Take a whole view of the broad cultural economy as expressed in the UNESCO
framework. Stop treating the arts as a marginal venture. Establish a cultural ministry, which will, as one of its first steps, contribute to a Productivity Commission inquiry into the scale, contribution, and support systems required to facilitate that economy.
• Adopt contemporary funding and financing practices where collaboration is key. Bring together some of the best financial minds in the country to develop some concrete proposals along the lines proposed in this paper, from new forms of taxation to developing a significant endowment or ‘Future Fund’ for the arts.
• Build the Australia Council into a body which can truly invest in and develop a ‘culturally ambitious nation’ in partnership with the states and territories and the growing philanthropic sector in Australia; with access to diversified streams of funding as with Arts Council England and the Canada Council for the Arts.  Fund for resilience not for dependency.”

If there is any chance of shifting the paradigm, it seems to me that Cathy Hunt lays down for government the practicalities of how it may be achieved.  And, as her final sentence says:

Let the actions of the last few months be a wake-up call to all concerned with the future of Australian arts and culture.
 

BRISBANE: Launch of PAYING THE PIPER: There has to be a better way with Cathy Hunt in conversation with Professor Judith McLean
   When: 6pm, Thursday 12 November 2015
   Where: Brisbane Powerhouse, Park Mezzanine, 119 Lamington St, New Farm
   All welcome. Essential to book at info@currencyhouse.org.au  mailto:info@currencyhouse.org.au

MELBOURNE: Launch of PAYING THE PIPER with keynote address from Cathy Hunt at the Victorian Theatre Forum and in conversation with Julian Meyrick
   When: 11am, Tuesday 17 November 2015
   Where: The Coopers Malthouse, Sturt St, Southbank
   Media welcome. Contact Nicole Beyer mailto:nicole@tnv.net.au

Media enquiries to Martin Portus mailto:mportus@optusnet.com.au  or 0401 360 806.




© Frank McKone, Canberra

2015: Paying the Piper: There has to be a Better Way by Cathy Hunt. Platform Papers No 45. Media Release.

Paying the Piper: There has to be a Better Way by Cathy Hunt.  Platform Papers No 45, Currency House, November 2015.

Posted by Frank McKone

The next Platform Paper from Currency House will be launched in

BRISBANE: with Cathy Hunt in conversation with Professor Judith McLean
When: 6pm, Thursday 12 November 2015
Where: Brisbane Powerhouse, Park Mezzanine, 119 Lamington St, New Farm
All welcome. Essential to book at info@currencyhouse.org.au <mailto:info@currencyhouse.org.au>

and in
MELBOURNE: with keynote address from Cathy Hunt at the Victorian Theatre Forum and in conversation with Julian Meyrick
When: 11am, Tuesday 17 November 2015
Where: The Coopers Malthouse, Sturt St, Southbank
Media welcome. Contact Nicole Beyer nicole@tnv.net.au <mailto:nicole@tnv.net.au>

MEDIA RELEASE Monday 2 November 2015

There has to be a better way


As the Senate Inquiry into Commonwealth responsibility for the arts begins its last week of hearings, international cultural strategist Cathy Hunt puts the case in the November issue of Platform Papers that our arts funding system needs a complete overhaul.

In Currency House’s PAYING THE PIPER: There has to be a better way, Ms Hunt argues for a new funding framework that brings government and the philanthropic sector together, new business models and new forms of financing to build sector resilience.

She calls for new leadership to overturn George Brandis’ hasty decision to seize more than $120 million from the Australia Council budget; and shows how the former Arts Minister’s action has exposed the fragility of our national arts funding.

“If the new National Program for the Excellence in the Arts goes ahead, the money that would have supported building resilient organisations will be used to keep organisations compliant and mendicant through the out-of-date, one-off grant process,” she writes.

Ms Hunt proposes a Productivity Commission Inquiry into the entire cultural economy, and a new independent source of policy, research and new thinking. She also wants an end to the distinction between “majors” and “small-to-medium” companies.

Ms Hunt also calls on the Australia Council to step up to its advocacy role, and to seek new authority to negotiate funds for the arts from sources other than Government.


Cathy Hunt is a founding director of Positive Solutions, a Brisbane-based consultancy in the cultural and non-profit sectors. She co-authored the 2008 Platform Paper, A Sustainable Arts Sector, and has written widely on cultural policy. She was also co-executive producer of WOW Brisbane in June 2015.



I’ll post a more detailed commentary closer to the launch date.  The Paper is a complex study of the situation of arts funding in Australia compared with the UK and Canada, reaching positive conclusions for a new approach which could well be of interest to Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull. – Frank McKone

© Frank McKone, Canberra