There was a time when, as a result of all this in-house training (see below) this theatrical ‘apprenticeship’, a well-drilled, industry savvy workforce fell easily into place and, what’s more, took responsibility for their actions. OK, so it was mainly because they had nothing to hide behind, but clear-cut lines of operation and operatives meant those responsible were easily held accountable. If the flash-box failed to ignite (or worse still ignited, but unfortunately only the first three rows of punters) or the 20kg profile came crashing down, because it hadn’t been fixed with the correct safety devices, and pole-axed one or other soap star in a Panto (fill in your own name here and then write "I wish") then responsibility was, compared to today, easy to define and deal with. However, in the U.K. theatre industry (and in most others too) a not-so-subtle shift has happened.
At the start of their arts strategy, the Arts Council had high ideals but, over the years, as various government changes happened so did the spirit of the message, and no set of changes were as brutal and damaging to arts funding as the Conservative ones banged into place in the ‘90’s. Under this self-serving, amoral Conservative party with unclear goals and policies, lack of morals, a drought of honesty, a jobs-for-the-boys philosophy that saw cronyism at an all time high and an uncertain lifespan, theatre grant levels were cut or frozen and arts venues scrabbling for insufficient government grants became a regular sight at the end of each financial year. Like the Nazi Party in the lead up to May ‘45’, riches and treasures were distributed to the party faithful in the form of golden handshakes, huge payouts made for running services at a loss, and the broken-up, nationalised operations were dished out to 'Privately Accountable Legislature Services' investors' (otherwise known as "PALS") who took the cream, dumped the milk and left a nation with a pillaged set of public services.
What with the U.K. running on empty as far as morals, artistic endeavour and honesty were concerned, a restless art’s population clamouring at the gates for a change in this funding-fostered, dog-eat-dog, begging-bowl “strategy” and a growing number of the population who'd begun to question the government policies even more fervently, it was decided, in the finest tradition of the Romans, that a bread and circuses approach to the problem was the wisest option; on the 14th November 1994 the National Lottery was wrenched from the womb. Seen in private as the solution to the funding crisis, but advertised as the munificent gift of a rocked-out government, the people were told that all the charities (think of the smiles on those poor children’s faces) and the arts in general (think of the smiles on those poor board member’s faces) would benefit greatly from this largesse, and the great un-washed stood a chance of watching a dumbed-out West-End musical (fill in your own title here or just write "We Will Rock You") and winning a million into the bargain! Auctioned off in The Crony Suite of the Franchise Hilton, the right to run the National Lottery was given to “fellows we can trust” (for “trust” read “control”) and a different scrabbling was heard as the smell of huge amounts of money suddenly becoming available started to pervade all corners of the arts. Everone started to grab for it and it was soon realised that what you needed to succeed now was an edge; to prove to a government built on the premis that if you hadn't got a car by the time you were 30 you were a failure, that you could walk-their-walk and talk-their-talk.
Get celebrities on board, businessmen who could wield corporate muscle, city-types and bankers who could provide contact points in the Lottery-grant wars and lobby for favours; self-styled entrepreneurs began to climb out of the woodwork, proving the truth in the Russian saying of, “Where there’s a trough there’ll be swine”. However, in a short time, the theatre management were under pressure from these very shareholders, backers and assorted celebrity hangers-on they'd recruited, for with grants and funding up for grabs the stakes were considerably higher; considerably; celebrity wages and board member's egos for a start. What was needed (came the whisper) was a leaner, fitter operation that could twist and turn with each political, artistic and monetary wind. New words leaked into theatrical conversations like “Mobile Workforce”, “Multi-Skilling”, and “Flexible Working Systems. For those who don’t understand the terms, “Mobile Workforce” is a pseudonym for people who can be discharge and employed at will, “Multi-Skilling” a pseudonym for getting one person to do the job of three for a single wage payment and “Flexible Working Systems” a pseudonym for bending the office secretary over the boardroom table. In 1997 the general election consigned the Conservative government to the shit-heap it so richly deserved and “New Labour” picked up the baton and staggered off with it…………we held our breath for the wind of change and turned blue with the effort.............
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