Skills for Theatre (Communications Committee Report)

Baroness Kidron Excerpts

Wednesday 16th May 2018 Grand Committee

[Baroness Kidron (CB)]

I, too, begin by thanking both chairs of the Communications Committee. Committee work contributes so hugely to the work of the House and, speaking personally, I have always relished and continue to relish Tuesday afternoons.

I struggled a little with what I wanted to say this afternoon, as the question of the arts in schools is something I feel passionately about. So too is a pipeline for talent, beset by problems of class, diversity and lack of access outside London; the undervalued reputation of the creative professions; and, as in every one of our conversations at the moment, the question—or should I say the cost—of Brexit to an international and open industry, which holds a unique place on the world stage.

However, as luck would have it, last night I went to the theatre. I saw “The Inheritance”, which, in a spellbinding seven hours over two evenings, managed to give a detailed account of the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s, a history of homosexuality over four generations of Americans and a truly masterful account of love and loss. It raised a challenging question, which I am sure everyone in this Room has considered at some point: is it possible to love honestly across the political divide? I was reminded of our witness who said that,

“the NHS looks after us physically but theatre looks after us spiritually”.

It is on that theme of the theatre ecosystem and its importance to our civic life that I wish to address my remarks.

I draw your Lordships’ attention to my interests in the register, in particular as president of Voluntary Arts, a membership organisation that represents 63,000 organisations in the voluntary arts sector—please note that number—and to say that my husband is a playwright.

Politicians and policymakers have become very comfortable with asserting that resources are finite, so we must adhere to a utilitarian hierarchy. While I have yet to meet a Minister or government spokesperson who did not profess the importance of arts and culture, their declarations of personal attachment to Welsh choirs, Shakespeare’s tragedies or “The Angel of the North” are almost invariably followed by the assertion that the demands of our cultural life must be seen through the lens of other, indisputably more important matters. While there is maths to teach and there are criminals to catch, the burden of social care and the health of the nation at stake, the arts must wait patiently in line.

However, culture is not confined to exhibition or performance. It is the way in which we explore who we are and our values, challenge and record our histories, consider how we live with one another and how we invent our future. Culture, and theatre within it, happens when people, with their ideas, skills and imaginations, find opportunities to engage with one another—opportunities that require money, equipment, time and place, and opportunities that can be created or be snuffed out by a lack of political understanding and will.

The Society of London Theatre reported £1 billion in ticket sales across the UK in 2017. Subsidies account for only 14% of all funding in the theatre sector. Venues and companies contribute ticket sales, workshops, cafés, education schemes and sponsorship to a vibrant mixed economy. Also clear from our witnesses was that industry professionals flow seamlessly between television, film, commercial and digital content, honing their skills and sustaining their incomes. Theatre, indivisible with the broader arts economy, is worth £7.7 billion annually.

Beyond the known theatrical professions, as the noble Baroness, Lady McIntosh, mentioned, lies an army of secondary services, from accountants and agents to theatrical dry cleaners, that all benefit from and intersect with the sector. Far from being a burden or government subsidy being a free cheque for theatre luvvies, it is an investment that brings a palpable net economic benefit. As the Arts Council reports, for every £1 of salary paid by the arts and culture industry, an additional £2.01 is generated in the wider economy.

But theatre offers two separate accountings: the economic contribution and the creation of public good. Even here, one thing is indivisible from another. Theatre—or, more usefully, drama—takes place in three interconnected spheres: the commercial, the subsidised and the amateur. Many of the commercial theatre makers, while unashamedly set on raking in the cash, also offer a public good—for example, by exploring contested subjects, such as in “Miss Saigon” and “The Book of Mormon”, offering creative excellence, as in the current Pinter cycle, or even making political waves, such as by casting a black Hermione in Harry Potter. All are deeply commercial endeavours.

Similarly, subsidised theatre may well be experimental or for a minority audience, but just as often it offers the space and resource to create work that ends up as a commercial hit. “War Horse”, “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time”, “Matilda” and “The Ferryman” are just a handful of the shows that would not or could not have found their feet in a purely commercial setting.

Meanwhile, more than 5,000 registered amateur theatre companies are in the UK, paying copyright fees that sustain writers, act as a driver of audience development, particularly in the regions, and contribute to the economic activity and popularity of festivals and local community venues.

This same 14% also covers drama, very often of extraordinary quality, that reaches parts of the community that would otherwise be overlooked. Examples include the award-winning women prisoners theatre company Clean Break, the Big House, with its young participants who have been through the care system, the Beyond Borders festival of refugee and asylum stories in Sheffield, and “Inside Out of Mind” from the Meeting Ground Theatre Company, which goes from care home to care home playing to the families, carers and sufferers of Alzheimer’s. There are scores of companies that make our country vibrant, help the vulnerable find a voice and, I would argue, spread considerable joy while they do so.

For young people, school drama is often the first cultural activity that a child participates in, and a school visit to the theatre is the first professional art they see. It can be transforming, impacting on self-development, cultural understanding and educational outcome. I hope that I will be forgiven for saying that I know this because I am married to someone whose school production of Brecht was the first step to a life in the theatre that has to date included youth theatre, university drama, subsidised theatre, regional theatre, West End theatre, Broadway theatre and beyond—a life made possible only by the vision of a drama teacher in a Newcastle school.

We are not shy of saying that the Greeks, the Spanish golden age, Elizabethan theatre and mid-century Broadway have offered the world a great deal more than entertaining distraction. We have understood the importance of meeting in public to tell the stories of our day, respond to the demands of a public and offer visions of possible futures. With only a little timidity, I would suggest that we are in our own golden age; since the mid-1950s, our playwrights, directors and actors have told stories so important and compelling that they have travelled the world. They dominate the creative industries globally; they are showered with awards, the Nobel Prize for literature among them. It has been a continually fruitful, sophisticated and extraordinary time and, as the world has moved inexorably towards the pre-eminence of the individual, I would argue that theatre has remained a crucial expression of our civic life, challenging our perceptions of politics, narrative and form, and it is not something that we can afford to lose.

The threats to the sector have been set out admirably by other noble Lords, so I will add only that the current health and brilliance of the theatre sector is not proof of its longevity. Yes, it is wonderful now, but this generation of practitioners are based on the policies of a generation ago. What we are doing now is starving the practitioners of the future. Without a healthy sector, without solving the education issue, the pipeline of which we are all speaking will have nowhere to land.

I finish by offering my thanks to all those who gave evidence for their wisdom and phenomenal commitment, and by making four practical suggestions. First, we should put art subjects, including drama, in their rightful place in the school system. Drama offers the exact skill set outlined by the OECD, the European Union, the Global Learning Alliance and UNESCO as being essential to the 21st-century workforce and society more broadly. Collaborative working, critical thinking, project based, iterative and interdisciplinary—it ticks all the boxes.

Secondly, as we have argued often in this House, we should ring-fence money for cultural activities in local authority funding. The swingeing cuts to local authority budgets have hurt the most vulnerable parts of the theatre ecosystem—the regional, marginal, amateur and the young. Thirdly, we should take the VAT money from theatre tickets, estimated last year at £107 million from London box office alone, and reinvest it in the subsidised sector. It will create growth. Fourthly, noble Lords should go and see “The Inheritance”. If nothing else, you may learn to love across the political divide, or not.