I've written about it before, and I'm writing about it again. It's on my mind a lot at the moment, and it's name is Funding. With a
capital F. It’s what it’s all
about. Without funding, there is no
opera. Without opera, there is no
funding. You’re probably thinking,
“wait, that doesn’t make sense….”. Hear
me out.
In July last year, myself and a couple other musicians
embarked on the arduous task of setting up a new opera company. We’re based in Manchester. In the North West, opportunities for opera
seem to sit on opposite sides of the stream.
There are a handful of good amateur companies, which is great. It’s lovely to see so many community people
wanting to be involved in making music.
Professionally we have Opera North and Heritage Opera. Both are excellent in their own ways. However, with the plethora of talent based in
the North West, particularly with the RNCM based in Manchester, opportunities
for people trying to build up their experience but who aren’t quite ready for
Opera North are few and far between.
…and there are a LOT of people looking for more stage experience up in
this neck of the woods. Flabbergasted
one evening from hitting endless walls in where to get some semi-professional
experience Up North, my husband said to me, purely as a throw away comment,
“why not just set up your own company?”
So I did. I gathered together
likeminded musicians, and thus Opera Seria was born.
That was the easy part.
Running an opera company is not cheap. Putting on a fully staged opera is not
cheap. Finding money to do either is
painfully difficult. We’ve hit so many
roadblocks trying to gather up money for the company that it’s almost
comical. From the sponsorship letters
that get ignored, to the grant applications that get replies of “sorry, all out
money is tied up in Royal Opera House/ETO/ENO/[insert major company here]”,
finding money for the company to even begin, let alone grow, has been an uphill
battle.
We decided to stage Donizetti’s Anna Bolena as our first opera.
I wanted to do something that was a bit different. I thought it would be nice to do an opera
that wasn’t regularly performed, and something that wasn’t done by the local
amateur companies every other year (there is enough of La Traviata and The Magic
Flute to go around right now). At
first, we were going to do a concert version.
Then, we thought maybe we could semi-stage it. Then we got ahead of ourselves, and decided
to fully stage it. On the biggest stage
in the North West. Ambitious? Yes.
Insane? Probably. I didn’t just want it to be for the emerging
artists to gain experience, though. I
wanted to bring something to the community.
So we decided to have a community chorus. Suddenly, we had 25 costumes to fund, rather
than 10.
Sitting down with the fees for hiring costumes for every
body on the stage, the fees for the theatre, the fees for the printing, the
fees for the scores - you get the idea - we started pulling our hair out. I’d been rejected for every single grant or sponsorship request I’d submitted. Presumably this was because we are a new
company and had nothing to prove ourselves, but it begs the question – how does
a company prove itself without some funding to help it get off the ground? Thankfully, by the power of twitter, we were
able to find a benefactor to offset a large percentage of the costs for the
first opera. Without him, the project
would have folded before it had even taken off.
I was also able to come up with one corporate sponsor to help us out
with some printing costs, and my mum made a rather generous donation from
America to support my new project, because she is awesome like that. Alas, this was not enough to pull together
our “grand vision” and we now have to face Anna
Bolena in “skrimp and save” mode.
The costumes are not perfect (which, as an archaeologist, pains me), the
set is minimal, the orchestra is slightly reduced and the singers are not
getting paid full wages. But we’re
making it work. Our director is excellent
with lighting, our conductor can turn a smaller orchestra into something
magical and several of us are dab hands with and needle and thread. Still, I worry that people will look at what
we’ve achieved and, instead of praising it for WHAT WE ACHIEVED ON NO MONEY,
will talk about how this costume wasn’t quite right for the period or that horn
section didn’t seem to be as full as it could have been….
This is down to funding.
As a small company, we wouldn’t be able to produce something on par with
the professional companies regardless, but without proper funding we’re not
left with too many options when it comes to the creative process. We have to work with what we can pull
together. It might not be perfect but it
will still be beautiful, and a bloody great achievement.
The currently state of funding for the arts is making it
impossible for small companies to get off the ground, so they are dying
out. I urge anyone who loves opera –
help your smaller companies to stay afloat.
Donate a few quid here and there to help them make up the
difference. Even £2 helps! Co-Opera is doing a really interesting fundraising
drive, “A cup of coffee”. If enough people
donated just the cost of a cup of coffee, they can raise the money they need
for their upcoming season, and give emerging musicians the chance to sing with
a great company. I set up a similar
thing with Opera Seria, with the Privy Council – donate £12 and get a medal and
your name in the programme/on the website.
It’s a bit more than a cup of coffee, but it’s no more than a coffee
plus your lunch out for the day. These
small sums help us small companies to keep going in a time when funding is hard
to get and there are more singers than you can shake a stick at looking for experience. We can’t all start at the top. Everyone has to start somewhere, and I hope
that companies like mine, and Co-Opera and London Youth Opera can continue to
raise enough money to stay active and keep opera alive across the country.
