JAN WOOLF applauds the necessarily subversive character of the Palestinian poster in Britain

LAST week I was fortunate enough to attend the Association of British Orchestras’ annual conference, this time being hosted in Glasgow thanks to the Royal Scottish National Orchestra and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra.
My own involvement was part hob-nobbing and shmoozing with other artists, in the hope I’d be able to find willing artists and groups to compose or work with, while also presenting a short talk on my work with Hebrides Ensemble and Drake Music Scotland.
For me, the conference was fascinating on two levels. First, I was curious to hear the concerns and thoughts of those who commission, prepare and organise concerts, much like the difference between a worker’s and a manager’s concerns are different — but in classical music, both sides of the coin want the artform to thrive.
The other, and more vital, level of the conference was the discussions surrounding classical music’s standing in British society.
The conference started with provocations from Darren McGarvey highlighting his own view of the classical music world.
His view being that rap is born out of the working class, and thus demonised for this; whereas high art is born out of the middle class and thus applauded, regardless of how heinous is may be.
I have concerns about his reduction, especially as my entry to classical music was through brass bands. However there was an ultimate truth he kept returning to — that classical music assumes connecting with the impoverished means showing council estates that they should love Beethoven, rather than recognising that these communities have their own voice and concerns to raise, meaning they should and will decide for themselves which art is reflective of them.
Other sessions looked at how to engage under-represented groups. These discussions almost always came from a genuine desire to include these groups, because the continuing feeling was every community in Britain has something to say via the artform.
There was divergence in opinion on the practicalities and implementation — should it be via blind auditions, proactive targeting, specialised commissioning and so on.
One presentation which really brought the importance of these discussions home was the presentation of the music education project, StAMP (St Andrews Music Participation).
We entered a room where the stage was filled with members of the Wallace Collection, and 20 primary school-age musicians armed with brass instruments from the natural trumpet to the noble euphonium.
Through the fun and silliness, we saw this was a group of kids who, after months of online tuition, were able to fall in love with music-making. The atmosphere was buzzing and a wonderful reminder of why we love our artform.
As readers of the Star will know, positive discussion means little without follow-through or at least some tangible actions which could happen.
This ultimately showed the limitations of the conference. The desire for change and connection to the broad British public is a central concern of many within the industry.
The limitation is that the industry thinks of change solely within the industry, and forgets that the problems stem from societal problems at large.
Organisations closest to truly understanding this problem were predominantly the education and outreach groups as their work is primarily targeted at communities, so are embedded among those they are aiming to engage with.
In the trade union movement we are often entering battles where we know the workers and managers do not see eye to eye and are often in direct opposition — profit motives very rarely think of the human costs.
However, the concerns and desires of many in the music industry are often felt in both the working musicians and those who organise and run the orchestras.
I am not naive — I know there are points where there are harsh disagreements between orchestra management and musicians — but there is an overall desire that the artform we adore becomes a source of love and admiration among the rest of the population.
So how do we take advantage of this? This is where the trade union movement can take a strong lead.
We have often shouted with pride our longing for our bread and roses, so we need to take this yearning to the people who can provide us with our proverbial roses.
If we, as the organised voice of the working class, can guide the classical music world to the realisation of how society and industry problems intersect, we can help them reach a wonderful moment of enlightenment.
Sadly, as all industries are still in shock mode, particularly the entertainment industries, classical music is fixated solely on its own issues, forgetting the world around it.
Meaning if we do not manufacture our own opportunities, we risk losing the chance to take genuinely popular ownership of great cultural institutions which have been blocked off from us.
If we fail, there is a worry that the industry will simply retreat if it does not see an immediate return.
The opportunity is ours — do we really want our bread and roses? We need to seize the chance while we still can.

BEN LUNN alerts us to the creeping return of philanthropy and private patronage, and suggests alternative paths to explore


