Art and Politics. Sarah Jennings
Behind the debacle in the French theatre lay a fundamental conflict between two strands of thought vis-à-vis the development of the arts, both internationally and now in Canada. In Europe, as in America, there was a move to “democratize” the arts. In Britain, the self-styled “liberal elites” of Maynard Keynes and his colleagues had moved to revamp Covent Garden and create the British Arts Council and other cultural organizations to serve the public as a whole, not just a select few. This group aimed to make its own tastes available to a wider public.
A similar idea for taking art to the masses was germinating in France, but the French approach was more proactively socialist. There the thrust was to create grassroots, populist maisons de culture to pursue the goal of cultural democratization. These organizations cast the artist as a social activist whose job it was to work together with the populace to produce art. The old-line classic companies such as the Comédie Française would continue to be the state-run exemplars of traditional French culture much as they had always been, but, at the level of the populace, there was a desire to make art of and by the people.
The tension and differences between these two philosophical threads would have a significant impact on the future growth of the arts in Canada. The National Arts Centre, like Canada’s other cultural organizations such as the Canada Council and the CBC, had been cast in the mould of their British forerunners, with the overall idea of excellence as a key component of their work. But the seeds of these French-grown ideas, exemplified at the Arts Centre by Sabourin, would inform at the deepest level Secretary of State Gérard Pelletier’s approach to culture, and, through him, they would have a huge impact on the development of the arts in Canada in the coming years.
Chris Young, the editor of the Ottawa Citizen, identified the problem early in the first season of the NAC when he wrote, “There is a lingering sense … that the public is not really welcome at the Centre.”8 The performances were fine, but there was something about the place, an elitism, that put people off. Pelletier agreed with this perception and was quoted in the press as saying that “magnificent art centres sometimes seem to serve the elite … poorer people might be afraid to enter, fearing that they would be out of their element or be laughed at.”9
The course was set for a fundamental rift between Director General Southam’s vision for the Arts Centre and Minister Pelletier’s approach. Southam did not seem to take much notice of Pelletier’s remarks. He had ensured that the spanking new restaurant was stocked with the finest wines, and he delighted in entertaining his elegant friends there. Much later he acknowledged that he did not get along with Pelletier, who, he said, “thought I was elitist—and I was.”10 But this word did not carry the same sense of class for Southam that it did for Pelletier. Southam’s idea of elitism, he declared, was “not people who thought they were the best but people who wanted the best,” and his idea of the national importance of the NAC was straightforward. He believed firmly in the “centres of excellence” approach and thought that the composition of the Arts Centre should “reflect the Canadian reality with the appropriate proportion of French and English content”: “if we could make it work here,” he said, “it was working for the country.”11 Although he was aware of the growing problems in Quebec, particularly through his close friendships with Quebec artists such as Jean Gascon and Jean-Louis Roux, he paid little attention to the new approach to the arts and culture stirring in Canada which Pelletier was initiating.
Pelletier had come to Ottawa with several ideas in mind, but key among them were two: he wanted greater access to the arts for ordinary people and, paradoxically, he believed in more centralized control of the cultural organizations at his disposal to achieve his “decentralization and democratization” policy. In Quebec, Pelletier and his colleagues had seen the independence at the French-language CBC co-opted by a growing separatist movement, and they were leery of having these institutions beyond the control of the government. The free-wheeling, “arm’s-length” independence enjoyed by the dedicated but powerful individuals who ran the cultural agencies was about to be subjected to growing pressure for control at the political level, all in pursuit of the new government’s national goals.
Meanwhile, tensions within the Board of Trustees at the Arts Centre were coming to a head over issues of money. These concerns would lead to a vigorous shakedown in operations, but not before board chairman Lawrence Freiman and Hamilton Southam had come to a final show-down. During the October 1969 meetings, a major explosion between the two men became so intense that Southam walked out and sat reflecting for a while in the Theatre over whether he should resign. He didn’t, but soon after, Freiman, already suffering from ill-health, gave up his post. At the core of the problem were two men who both loved their city, the arts, and the Arts Centre, but were as different “as chalk and cheese.”12 At the heart of their incompatibility were their different views of the world: Southam, the privileged elitist, who was used to the best and accustomed to getting it, seemingly without effort; and Freiman, the bedrock businessman, who knew the dangers of financial imprudence and sought sound business practices in operations. Freiman’s resignation lanced a boil, but the real problems remained. Most immediate was the fact that the government was still offering $300,000 less than anticipated for the 1970–71 season (a $2.5 million subsidy, not the requested $2.8 million). Before this particular rumpus settled down, the chief financial officer, Robert Montpetit, had also resigned in protest. Southam and his deputy, Bruce Corder, vowed before the board that they would mend their ways and take steps to improve their operations.
On November 14, 1969, François Mercier, a brilliant and politically well-connected litigation lawyer from Montreal, was named to succeed Freiman as chair. Both Southam and Corder put a good face on what had occurred by arranging to call in the government’s Bureau of Management Services to help put their house in order. Among their difficulties were the arrangements for catering, which had been contracted to the food management firm Gabriel Management Ltd. and which were not going well. One of the reasons was confusion over who controlled the liquor licence for the NAC, particularly after Gabriel issued huge invoices to the centre after the opening ceremonies. The board eventually decided to take the food service in-house, but not before trustee Dr. Arnold Walter registered caustically in the minutes of the November meeting that he deplored the fact that the pending deficit of over $100,000 was being caused by non-artistic matters. Parking revenues and other potential commercial revenue streams were still struggling to get up to speed, but the main cause of the deficit was the food service. In one of his first acts, Mercier intervened with Gabriel’s lawyer to minimize the costs of disengagement to the Arts Centre.
By the end of the year, both board and management had put a bright face on the problems. Just the normal growing pains of any new organization, they said.
Another blow was in the offing. Shortly after the opening concert, music director Jean-Marie Beaudet was felled by a severe stroke. After all the brilliant work he had done to help create the new orchestra, he was able to attend only one more concert and could not resume his duties at the Arts Centre. He finally resigned formally from the NAC on February 1, 1971, and died a little over a month later. Orchestra manager Ken Murphy, who was deeply devoted to Beaudet, carried much of the load during the first months of his absence, working to the point of exhaustion, but once it was clear that Beaudet would not return, the burning question became who should succeed him. Beaudet, with his huge knowledge of music, had played a key role in programming for the first season, and his departure left a serious gap.
Bernardi, although an expert in opera, had limited experience with the symphonic repertoire, and he was now being severely stretched by the constant demands of building an orchestra, learning new repertoire, and programming the multifaceted concert season, replete with all its guest conductors and soloists. With no other obvious candidate in view, Southam finally gave Bernardi the job of music director in February 1971, though with promised support. Bernardi chose Hugh Davidson, a former CBC music producer now living in London and working with the BBC, to join the NAC in the new post of music administrator. His prime role was to assist the maestro with programming,