MY VERSION OF EVENTS....

Since the Brexit vote, and especially since the recent Autumn statement, there has been something familiar nagging at me; the remarkable refusal of Brexiters to accept or acknowledge the facts set out by the government and in the OBR's forecasts. It reminds me of something, a feeling I have had before. I know that the expression post-truth annoys a lot of people, but it is a thing, it really exists. People, for whatever reason can knowingly refuse to accept bare facts when it suits them. It isn't a new phenomenon at all. I am bound to say, moreover, that I have tended to experience it in a malign sense, when the things people want to believe are unconscionable or driven by prejudice of one kind or another. Last night I remembered where it was that I had last seen the phenomenon and it was an experience that left me astonished at the time, but which also provoked in me a genuine disgust for my fellow citizens. I am afraid it is an unpleasant parallel scenario, but it was pro

I am currently in Italy, high in the Picentino, lapping up the sunshine and whatever sauce is left on my plate (yesterday's lunchtime Pasta Amatriciana would have been swabbed up with whole loaves of bread had there been enough of it) but I still find myself drawn to Twitter and the world outside. And it isn't only to post pictures to make you all jealous either; I read an excellent piece by John Allison this morning ( http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opera/what-to-see/warning-this-opera-may-cause-offence/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter ) in which he spoke about the recent trend for warning patrons about the content of productions. I have to say, we have only ever done this when we have had concerns about participants in our free tickets for young people - as much for the sensibilities of their parents as for the children. Despite John's argument, when a character has his throat cut and there is arterial spurt splattering the walls, an 8 year old could easily find

Football parlance is never far from the surface at OHP. "It is the hope that kills you" is one cliche that comes easily to most football fans; it means that it is often better to have no hopes or dreams for your team so that they can't ultimately be dashed. As we went into October of 2015 as an independent company, I suppose that expression came to mind more often than any other. We have hopes and aspirations for the company - not, it is true, based entirely on speculation, since we have been at it for a while - but there always exists the question, even for manifest optimists like us, that what you predict will happen may not come to pass. I think it was the author Terry Pratchett who said that opera was just hundreds of things NOT going wrong, and he was pretty much on the money. The most profoundly appealing aspect of opera is that it is indeed a human product and humans are properly dodgy beings, but this is also what makes it so terrifying. And this applies t

It has been an interesting couple of days on twitter; I have had two prolonged discussions with people who are evidently committed opera goers, but who both appeared to harbour quite virulent belief in the idea that opera is elitist. Both conversations revealed that whilst the general population is polarised on the matter of 'high' arts, those already converted appear to be divided within it. The first conversation centred around our free ticket schemes. A critic had mentioned meeting two boys at a performance of Fledermaus who were on the scheme. Both, she said, appeared fully engaged and had told her they would definitely be coming back. A twitterer doubted that such schemes were useful (although we did end up discussing subsidy and who was paying for such free tickets). When we set the scheme up many years ago, the idea was simple; the best way to encourage life-long interest in opera is to give young people (from the age of 7 in our case) the chance to experience it, a

So I didn't imagine it: our Queen of Spades was as good as it felt like it was going to be. The cast were fabulous and everybody appears to agree with the spider comparisons for Rosalind Plowright's remarkable physical incarnation of the Countess. There is always pressure on a first night, that's obvious. But the pressure doesn't apply in one place, or in equal force, like a blanket across us all, it manifests itself in several places. For the singers - some of them still young and subject to eager attention - they take on these mighty, signature roles with trepidatious ballsiness. The director, the conductor, the designer; they too feel the weight of expectation to create a coherent piece of musical theatre that satisfies the myriad personal expectations of the audience. It takes enormous courage from performers to step out into the glare of critical attention in such revered roles. For those in the earlier stages of a career, it is nights like last night that wi

It is common for those of us who work in opera (and probably also those who don't) to take works for granted. What I mean is that we sit and consider a future season, rake through the works that are on the list, imagine people in the roles etc. And then sort of judge the whole thing on the reputation it has, as much as on the extent to which we might admire or like the work.  Boheme is a good example of this; it's Boheme, right?  So it is about time we did it - but  I'll be honest, it is a long time since I sat and listened to it on CD.  Yet when it gets into the theatre and you start to hear it in detail, live,  with the orchestra rehearsing, you again realise how very, very good it is.  Some operas you may listen to more frequently as you sit on a bus or do some work, but when it gets into the theatre, with a staging, when all that narrative music begins to make perfect sense, the opera in question can take on an even more profound dimension. This is what is happening wit

Last night, The Guild of Food Writers had their annual awards at Opera Holland Park (for the second time). It is always nice to spend time at an event in our theatre that isn't about opera. The awards are actually quite a feverish event, and not just because of all the lovely wines, bubbles and food (the Scotch beef cooked in a Big Green Egg was one of those mind-altering things you occasionally eat) but because of the intensity of the enthusiasm of the attendees. I don't know if the old adage that writers, who spend so much of their time alone, go at social gatherings with greater alacrity applies here, but it could be a factor. Food in the UK has become so democratic - anybody can have a fine, authentic meal for a moderate price - and good food writing is easy to find too. In fact, one of the most interesting things about food writing, perhaps more than any other subject, is the way that blogs can very quickly become hugely popular, and the Guild's awards recognise

I have been asked for the text of my acceptance speech from the graduation ceremony at Oxford Brookes University, 20th June, 2016. The audience was 170 graduates, in various arts, performing, publishing and other creative disciplines, as well as hundreds of their family members. My intention was to confirm that in an age of undervalued arts education, their choices were the correct ones; that despite the prevailing desire of the government for more engineers, mathematicians and computer experts, their talents would come to be as valued as any others. ----------- It is with great surprise and pleasure that I come here today to accept this honorary doctorate, the giving of which is met with more pride than I can actually express. To be recognised by an academic institution is not something I ever thought possible as I grew up. My two oldest children have achieved far more than I have in academia, but, as a competitive Dad I just want to say to them…erm, Doctor?! I am also honoured

It's always a relief when a show opens to popular and critical acclaim, especially when it is the first show in the season. This year, there were added pressures; it was our first show as an independent company, Investec had  just put pen to paper on a new three year sponsorship and we were opening with a rarity. Such operas are our staple of course, but Iris is the piece that put us on that road in the first place. Oh, and four members of the Mascagni family were in the house which is bound to elevate the anxiety a little. What has been fascinating is  the depth of the reaction to Iris. I won't rehearse the arguments on the merits of the work - and its motivations - that I have been having with many people about it, but one thing is for sure, Iris has had a dramatic effect on most who have seen it: both good and bad (mostly bad, but in a good way.) When we have talked about the opera in the office in recent months, the discussion has often centred on the current

It is uncommon for me to accept waiting time of any kind; queues, airport delays, to be served in a coffee shop. But I am in Italy today. My room isn't ready so the garden, a glass of red and the warm spring sunshine in which Rome's Trastevere basks will soothe my usually fractious mood. Room not ready? No problem, where's the bar and garden? Indeed, something of a surprise met me on arrival a Fiumicino airport. It was efficient, the taxis were abundant and driven by polite Italians, the price was set and people were helpful. What has happened to Italy? I am feeling a bit bereft without the chaos. The police sirens are still from the 1960's and the smell is familiar (musty, damp, exotic tobacco) but It feels organised and outward looking. Still, I'm off to Napoli in August which should restore my faith in this country's pre-eminent reputation for lavish, stylish pandemonium. I am up on a hill, high above Trastevere which means walking into town is a plea

In his defence of the new EBacc qualification that is to be compulsorily introduced to 90% of school pupils by 2020, ( Telegraph , 21st January)  Nick Gibb MP makes a passionate defence of core subjects and their availability to kids from all backgrounds (I wasn't aware poor kids were prevented from studying maths) and the aim that this government has of raising expectations. I don't quite understand this discussion of social background and wealth because schools like Eton and Harrow have an astonishing cultural curriculum, so it seems to me the wealthy are extremely interested in their children receiving a broad arts education. In fact, pupils from private schools are more likely to take music GCSE than pupils from state schools according to Cambridge Assessment research. Whilst Mr Gibb sounds off with some rousing platitudes, few of us would instinctively disagree with him, but we have heard it all before, and unfortunately, his insistence that there is plenty of room for kid