Up and running

The first week of the season is nearly completed. My blog filling duties have been neglected but given the last minute rush of it all I can hardly be blamed (can I?)

It has been quite a week. The theatre looks beautiful and has been universally acclaimed for both the acoustics and the comfort. So mission accomplished there then.
I think this blog needs to come to a close since a) it was all about the run up (which we have run past) and b) I am so rubbish at keeping it up to date.

It has been fun doing this blog, if nothing else to help me order thoughts and keep things in perspective. Thanks for reading.

Ciao, and see you at OHP.

Testing, testing....

The fist audience steps through the gate of OHP on Wednesday for the 'Test night'. And it has been a monstrously wet Bank Holiday weekend so that will make some of the finishing groundworks a little trickier. The visitors will find a two thirds completed theatre - sans bits of screening, cladding and organic finishings. But it will be usable and great to look at. As the picture at the top shows, the seats are in and seem a million miles away from those our patrons will have been used to at OHP.

It really has been like pulling teeth watching the elements of the theatre coming together. With all this new equipment and structure, adjustments are always being made and the contractors are learning the reality of the building on the ground. But, inexorably, with every day, the work is being completed. After the first night, we will have a week to put all the final touches into place and then it really will be a most stirring sight.

Productions are on stage and working through technical rehearsal, sets are being built and adjusted and suddenly, OHP is back in business. Amazingly (and satisfyingly) we have immediately noticed that the intimacy of the theatre for which we were so renowned, has not been diminished. And the acoustic is good!

I'm not sure how it will all feel as "Va pensiero' floods across the theatre for the first time on the 5th June. It has been a long and hard road, with setbacks, doubts and several unrelated personal anxieties littering the way. I'm not beyond nor above admitting the heat of it all has been withering from time to time. I can't foresee it being anything but a hugely emotional moment so it may be wise to find a private spot.

Gulp....

It's breathless and tense on site. The number of contractors surrounded by equipment and material is bewildering but slowly and surely the theatre is taking shape. And it is unarguably impressive. The picture at the head of this post shows the view from the back row of the grandstand. It is high and one can see to the north of the house. Vertigo sufferers ought not to sit in the back row. The mezzanine is now almost fully glazed and it looks to be an inviting space in which to spend some time. Once the groundworks and finishing are complete, the public areas will be very open and relaxed (we hope). As much cover as possible outside of the canopy line is being provided but obviously we hope we won't need it! The picnic area is running late so won't be fully ready by the test night so patrons will have to make do until the official opening when the floor would have been laid.

Recent rain has shown us where the problems of drainage lay. The canopy designers are currently installing the water collecting devices and drainage run-offs. Wind driven rain presents small issues at certain points (which we knew would be an issue given the height of the canopy, dictated by a desire to have steeper seats and retain the outdoor feel). Solutions for that are in the tweaking process anyway so we will be designing add on elements in time for opening night.

We are at the point where I have started having dreams about problems. Last night was about the number of bars. We have three of them, four at times, so I am confident it was my sleeping mind playing tricks on me.

Today, everyone on site will be given a galvanising shot in the arm (or slap in the face) when the Nabucco set arrives and the build begins. James has, in his own words, thrown everything but the kitchen sink at this one. Not quite a cast of thousands but that's how it will feel! Dressing room space at a premium, costume store full to bursting etc. But what a great way to kick off this season.

Build, build ,build

Suddenly, the site is a forest of aluminium. I've christened the site Ali Pally.
Someone else has dubbed the over stage truss as the Wembley Arch. No doubt everything else will garner a new name as the season progresses. The build is in full swing now but life on site is tough with tons of equipment dotted about the place. In future years this will all be a much smoother process; structures will be set in their rightful place this year and the template simply followed in future builds. So getting the mezzanine and seating absolutely spot on for heights and distances took a while. The mezzanine will be a nice place to enjoy a drink that is for sure. You can see pictures of the build by clicking the link to the right. The photos do not actually give a proper idea of the scale of things to be frank. I stood at the back of the seating terrace (with four more rows still to go on!) and I got vertigo. Actually, it is very pleasing to note that the new theatre appears to be maintaining a sense of intimacy which was a major concern of everyone at the start of the project. The other very big worry was the acoustic performance of the canopy. I am pleased to report that if anything, the acoustic sounds better - the many peaks appear to be doing their job of deflecting sound downwards in a focused way. It will be fascinating to hear a cast and chorus on stage for the first time. The lighting rig is up too and the stage is built.

Now it will all be about finishings, plants and decorative elements to really finish it all off. Not to mention floors and cover for around the site. An intense two or three weeks beckons.

Bloody hell it's big!

The usual exclamation when people see the new canopy for the first time! And it is up. Which is nice. Pictures are HERE

Lift off

T Minus not-very-long. And on Tuesday the canopy will be lifted into first position from where it will be slowly tensioned at a rate the new fabric can cope with. Underneath will be all a-buzz with more construction; first the mezzanine, then the seating and millions of other things that need doing. I can't wait...Errm...

So the podcasts got done. Three in a day and terrifically enjoyable it was too. The Leader of the council, Cllr Cockell was first and spoke very eloquently about his philosophy towards the public arts and why The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea is so supportive of OHP. We even learned he had sung Leporello in a school production years ago (a school doing Don Giovanni?!). It was then the turn of Jim Naughtie of Radio 4's 'Today' programme and presenter of opera and music on BBC TV. I had to keep pushing from my mind the thought that this man spends most of his time behind a microphone interviewing the great and good of world politics. I needn't have worried though; Jim possesses a great passion for opera and makes a great commentator on the subject. We just set him off and he filled the time with some lovely anecdote and interest. The best tribute I can pay to his craft is that he made James and I sound interesting too. Brian Sewell was the final visitor to the studio. I remain convinced that Brian is a treasure of British life and culture. The conversation traversed, of course, his love of opera, but art (naturally), cricket, dogs, the blitz, Hitler, angioplasty and countless other topics. All were delivered with that great, measured thought and humour. And only Brian could say "We owe Hitler a great debt' and get everyone listening nodding in agreement! (You'll have to listen to it to understand the context which is not as controversial as it may sound!)

You can hear the Naughtie and Sewell podcasts here
They will soon be up on the official OHP website but this is my site and they are also available on iTunes.

The rain hasn't stopped falling for several days but no phone call from the site to say things have been held up or diverted. That could just be because they can't bear the thought of a rant and rave but I am hopeful it is just because everything is fine.

Tuesday is the annual 'Prelude', a lovely evening we have held for several years at Leighton House Museum. About 130 Friends come for an evening of music delivered by singers appearing in the forthcoming season. They get to mix with all of us too and it is a nice curtain raiser which brings in some much needed funds to the Friends' coffers. I always enjoy it and I suspect this year, the patrons in attendance will have many more opinions and questions than is usual.

Countdown

Cables and wires everywhere on site right now. All the steelwork is up and waiting for the fabric to be attached. The picture above gives an idea of what it's like - a giant "Cat's Cradle' really which I imagine will make more sense when attached to the fabric (or perhaps not). I spent some of Saturday wandering around the site sketching and marking places that will need remedial aesthetic attention. The Holland Park gardeners will be busy and I expect more terracotta than you'll find in a Florentine garden to litter the site by 5th June.

This week is podcast week. Or more specifically, Wednesday is podcast recording day and the rest of it will be spent editing and dropping in music so we can have them up on the website within a week or so. Three guests will feature this year, kicking off with the leader of K&C council - which will be a bit unusual but I'd expect him to have something interesting to say about publicly funded arts. After him, Jim Naughtie of Radio 4's Today programme will come in to summarise and chat about the forthcoming season. This is a man who has interviewed Presidents and Prime Ministers for years so the idea of James and I sitting around in a studio with him is a challenging one! The last of the three is the art critic Brian Sewell, whose love of opera he has often shared through articles in our programme magazine.

So much needs to be done on site from this point forward it is hard to imagine how we will fit it all in. But we will. Lots of contractors are gearing up to do their bit and it is amazing what can be achieved in a day when everybody puts their mind to it. Carpenters, diggers, engineers, gardeners, sign makers et al will all bring their skills to bear on creating what we hope will be one of the most spectacular performing spaces in the country.

Good 'eavens!

The photo at the head of this entry shows the over stage truss and gives something of a clue as to the scale of this new canopy (thanks to Brendan for going up in the cherry picker and taking the shot). Over this will be spread the stage tensile fabric and the large main canopy will be attached at the front. On the ground, at the base of the upright leg, you can see the elaborate steel contraption that creates a firm foundation without the need for huge concrete blocks on such a delicate site. Great care has been taken with this aspect of the canopy design and installation. Where concrete is inappropriate, special steel has been designed or, in some cases, thin 'helical' screws have been inserted into the ground so as not to have concrete disturbing tree roots, foundations etc. In some cases, such are the enormous forces of the canopy, these screws extend 15 metres into the ground. One of the engineers explained how this device creates a sort of funnel shaped plug ahead of it etc etc. He lost me halfway through the explanation. "Will it hold the bloody thing in?" I asked. "Yes", came the reply - the only explanation I was after really.

The first reaction of anybody seeing the over-stage truss tends to be "Bloody hell". Considering the canopy itself will extend higher still, it does suggest the scale of the new structure. It really will be a magnificent space.

James's weekends are now filled with trepidation - unexpected phone calls and emails are never far away and rarely bring good news. He had one such on Saturday bringing unfortunate tidings about one particular singer. Not insurmountable but a brisk reminder of what the next few months may have in store for him. Frankly, he can deal with anything (very little will ever compare to the abyss into which he stared after the first night of Queen of Spades last year) but I suspect he could do without the grief.

Clarinda continues to breeze her way through mounting challenges. In fact, I hesitate to call them challenges for fear I might insult her. She has assembled a small army of interns, the combined musical and academic qualifications of which would mount a serious challenge to any educational institution in the land. If they all brought in their instruments we could start an orchestra.

We had something of a customer relations nightmare when we invited Friends to attend the free test night on 30th May. The tickets had gone within about an hour of being made available and those with a less efficient postal service we left out in the cold. We somewhat misjudged the desire of Friends to be there on what we THOUGHT we had made clear would be at best a rough rehearsal and at worst, intentional chaos. We did not think any would be that keen to attend! A lesson learned and lots of apologies to disappointed Friends. You live and learn. One rather irate Friend called me directly to complain. I muttered something about being surprised by the demand and that really, she wouldn't be missing much. "You are just saying that to make me feel better", she said. "No, I'm not, really" I stuttered.
"Why not?" came the probably apposite response. You live and learn indeed.

No time to waste

Just shy of 6 weeks to go and where to begin? Rehearsals and the first meet and greet for Jenufa happened today. A fabulous cast is about to begin a journey that culminates on stage on June 6th. The office is beginning to take on a surreal air - props everywhere in stage management - including blood-soaked baby dolls.
And of course, the steel for the new canopy has arrived and will begin to be installed tomorrow. It's frighteningly close. I suppose I have waited 18 years for this moment. There is very little time to get everything done since planning permission only came through recently. It's all hands on deck for the finishing touches once the main structures are up. Then hey presto - test night and then first night.

Ticket sales are amazingly good. L'amore dei tre Re, one of the rarest things you are likely to see in the UK this year is clearly on the way to a total sell out. In the first two weeks of booking, over 30,000 seats are gone for the season. Lakme too is a huge success.

heard from our good friend Sir Denis Forman yesterday. He'll be along for L'amore (always one for the unusual Sir D) and no doubt he'll bring suitably interesting guests as ever. A great man who wrote a great book about opera - hilariously funny yet still retaining a comprehensively educational element. We shall look forward to after show dinner with he and his wife as usual.

Forgive the brevity of this entry but there are plants, gravel, carpets and sundry aesthetic embellishments that need confirming.

Here we go

Good Friday. GOOD FRIDAY!
It really does worry me how quickly time flies by these days. I am about to embark on my 18th season at Holland Park and it is still growing and developing. Perhaps that is why the time is barging past me so rapidly - something about when you are having fun?
Discussions about 2008 and 2009 are occurring frequently now. One such with conductor of L'amore dei Tre Re, Peter Robinson, involved a sharp intake of breath at the mention of La Gioconda which we produce in July next year. A sharp intake of breath from Peter is the equivalent of a raging tirade from me about the idiocy of the congestion charge. Even then, people pay far greater heed to Peter's teeth sucking than they do my hair-pulling. When I rant, you might believe the matter is important; if Peter Robinson draws sharp breath, look to the sky for a meteor or listen for the four minute warning. He can also do it when he is smiling but only a fool would be diverted by that. This is a man of steely nerve and purpose who once wrote a six part woodwind representation of an organ passage in Luisa Miller when a storm had disabled the real thing. He had less than half an hour to do it and nobody noticed the difference. His warning (for that is what it was) relates to the size of the piece. I suppose, to put it into a context, the opera represents our equivalent of the Ring Cycle. In the verismo stable, Gioconda holds the title of biggest animal. Where Fedora is an engaging show pony, Gioconda is the galloping shire. And of course, we can't wait.

The box office opens on Tuesday once the wholly inconvenient Easter break shuffles off. Phones and internet are ready and waiting. I believe the technicians are having special drill sessions over the Easter weekend to ensure it all goes smoothly. A repeat of last year's early debacle will illicit one of those hair-pulling rants from me. Although I doubt peter Robinson would waste a breath on it.

Onwards

We have now confirmed the final opera in the 2008 season (Tchaikovsky's gorgeous Iolanta)so James can get to work on the season in earnest. He is also, of course, getting close to the real gubbins of the 2007 season - rehearsals begin very soon. We'll need as much time as possible to get the 2008 season into shape - there are at least two monumental operas to get on stage (Il trovatore and La Gioconda for starters).

Trepidation, too, about the new theatre. Paper drawings, computer graphics and any amount of imagination will not, I suspect, prepare us for the impact of seeing that vast new roof being raised into position for the first time. I'm also getting sleepless nights about how it will perform as a space. I shouldn't worry, but I am. I suppose we shall know more about how people will behave, space allocations, comfort and acoustic performance etc once we have carried out the test night on 30th May. We are inviting 1000 Friends and supporters for a free night at the theatre to enjoy some excerpts from Nabucco and Jenufa. We'll all be standing around with clipboards taking notes. Ideally, it will be pouring with rain on that evening so we can also see if our covered spaces are sufficient. It will possibly be the most nerve-wracking evening of our lives.

Goodness gracious

April is knocking on the door. Over 1100 Friends' forms have gone through the system and there are a few hundred more to go. The high demand for L'amore is gratifying of course but so too the excitement that obviously surrounds Lakme.

Phone systems for the box office have occupied time this week. We had some problems last season so the technical teams are keen to avoid a repeat performance (their eardrums cannot take it). So I need to write some scripts for the hold and queuing messages. I guess the lovely dulcet tones of Kate will once again be the voice of OHP.

Monday sees another ex-Kings graduate start work as our Friends administrator. Very bright, very motivated, I am sure she will be a big hit.

The holes in the ground proliferate. I cannot speak anymore of it. I want it done. Then I will eulogise until the peacocks roost.

Questions

A blizzard of questions from the Planners about the canopy characterised the week- questions we thought had been answered. If they had been answered, more detail was required along with drawings we already thought had been supplied. If they had been supplied, more detail was required. You get the idea. Mike Harth, our operations manager got busy on his CAD program. His wife has just had their first baby so he had better get used to doing things over and over and over again.

Chelsea were drawn against Valencia in the Champions League. I'd like to see Valencia but the day of the match coincides with the day the box office opens to the public. Since there is a crazy deluge of calls on that day, I need to be around to help solve any problems (which invariably means shouting down the phone at a technician about how, since MY life is flashing before my eyes, his ought to be doing the same etc etc). Flights to Valencia rose to ridiculous levels on the announcement of the match so I think it would involve a circuitous route featuring Madrid and a train (only 12 Euros for a long journey - UK train companies take note). This Sunday, Chelsea play Tottenham in the FA Cup. Since James is a life-long Spurs fan, Monday morning might be tinged with tension.

Tonight I am probably off to see a friend in Gubbay's Butterfly at the Albert Hall. I'm not a great fan of the piece since I think it features some of Puccini's dullest "filler". It does, though, feature one of his most exquisite musical phrases (bimba dagli occhi etc). I might not last the course.

Spring arrival

From the rain and wind of the early week emerged a day that put a bounce in the step. I had reason to see the woodland carpet of daffodils in Holland Park and although the air began to bite when the sun descended, the smack of Spring was unmistakeable.

It has been a week for celebrating our decision to produce L’amore. Although Barry Jobling made a good fist of rubbishing my assertion that it was a post-verismo masterpiece in his lecture(it’s post-symbolist-proto-Wagner apparently) he nevertheless presented s a superb distillation of the piece. A packed Leighton House listened to him play samples on the piano and broadcast – loudly – passages from the RCA CD. It was an odd experience hearing amplified music in that setting but fascinating to hear the shuffle and murmur of pleasure from the audience when a particularly glorious extract had finished. Knowing that what was a first listen for the vast majority of those present had hit the spot left me with a grin the size of the Thames Barrier. All who attended (and there is another one soon) were urged to book for the opera and would all have no doubt rushed for their cheque books if they hadn’t already done so before attending the lecture; for L’amore, as things currently stand, has sold a higher percentage of its capacity than any other opera in the season.

Things are at the holes in the ground stage with the canopy. Concrete. Even culture relies upon it.

The Friends have recently advertised for an administrator (who works amid the ever-growing throng in our office). They had a remarkable 170 applications for the job and there are many of an extremely high calibre. Naturally, as one left the interview room, Clarinda recognised an old friend from, yes, you guessed it, Kings College London. Apparently this mighty number will be distilled down to what must be a genius–like final 16, at which point James and I will also get to run the rule over them, so to speak (what’s the collective noun for a group of geniuses?) Whatever, it bodes well for the chances of engaging someone very good and a testament to the appeal of the company. It is an important role too – the Friends' contribution to the season has grown exponentially in the past three years and will continue to do so.

Sarah showed me a photograph taken at a first night that featured me talking to Kate. I laughed at how drunken Kate looked in the photo, only to be met with perplexed faces. “Oh,” Sarah said, not really bending over backwards to be tactful, “I sent it because I thought you looked particularly bad in it”.

Bursting at the seams

Walking into the office these days is akin to arriving at Terminal one at Heathrow. The door opens and the sight of a sea of people milling about greets you. I don't know where they all came from! They could be working for us or they could be the artistic team of a production showing a model, as was the case yesterday when it was lovely to see the latest Peter Rice model (complete with cardboard version of the new steel gantry/proscenium). He was in along with Tom Hawkes and Jenny Weston (choreographer) to show the designs and ideas for Lakme. As ever with Peter, the drawings were beautifully rendered and I am sure Lakme will have the sumptuous oriental elegance it deserves. Indeed, he is off to India shortly for a trip he has wanted to do for many years and whilst there will be doing some fabric shopping so authenticity is assured too.

It is obvious that the expansion will make demands upon us across the business but as is the way, those demands don’t arrive at equal intervals; like London buses, they all arrive at once and suddenly one is faced with getting things done in short order. Since we don’t have endless resources in order to employ outside agencies or recruit lots of new staff, we have to be a little more creative. In recent times we have been rather successful at find talented graduates looking for experience. Indeed, Clarinda and Kate both began as volunteers (or Interns if you are American) and ended up in full time employment. Kings College London seems to be our university of choice since there are many music students there and Clarinda has been sifting through a number of CVs and interviewing possible graduates who we would want to come and work with us. I had a look at some of the CVs and was confronted by lists of academic and music attainment that embarrassed me. How does a person find the time to get Grade 8 in about four instruments before they pass 18 years of age? All seemed to have columns of exam passes at A* too. In fact so prevalent was this last fact that when I saw one who had only attained an A, I scoffed. It was hard to escape the truth of how utterly misspent was my youth. I suspect that not only will we have a problem finding space and computers for these mini-Einsteins, we might also have difficulty in supplying work that is challenging enough to keep them from falling asleep. I am reassured, however, by the undoubted fact that they are unlikely to make good coffee.

Queasy

Sitting down to formulate the next two months work, Clarinda and I began to feel a little ill at the length of the ‘to do’ list. Minute by inexorable minute, as each and every issue came up for discussion a line was added to the list. It’s nothing new really. It just feels like a lot more this year because of the other well documented matters that we all have to incorporate into our schedules. Events are sprinting towards us every day – next week, the first of the L’amore lectures for example – and it is now even time to discuss invitations and lists of guests for the first night. It’s March. It’s mental.

Friends continue to flood the box office with booking forms and from those processed the average number of tickets per member is very healthy. Exciting, too, to see how well Lakme and L’amore are doing. It is a weird time of year now that people are actually parting with their hard-earned because essentially, that which they are buying does not yet exist in anything but name alone. Productions are not settled, designs not finalised etc. Casts are done of course but nothing tangible really exists until the shows go into rehearsal and things begin to be made and built. There’s no going back now though!

The company did anther visit to a day centre for a group of elderly people. Everyone came back feeling very moved and excited by it all. These people took the time to speak with James and quite a few expressed their feelings about the singers they had heard. It was very rewarding.

The grindstone

Several days in the northern Portuguese town of Porto were blessed with the unexpected bonus of sunshine and warmth. A dose of light works wonders for the spirit – even when the spirit is sodden with quantities of the beverage that took its name from the town. The trip was pleasantly embellished by texts from James reporting on a steady stream of black pen entries on the 2008 Magic Flute board, which really is good news. I was in Porto for a football match and I can tell you that these days, the multifarious professions and characters that make the away trips is startling. Saying that I work in opera is still raises more eyebrows than most but I did meet “one of the top ten re-insurance lawyers in the world”. A thoroughly nice fellow with a lawyer’s sharp and educated brain, he nevertheless descends, with the rest of us, into squawking hysteria at the mere sight of a green pitch and white ball. The referee was especially subject to some colourful and Public/Catholic School inspired opprobrium. Football is like that and it has been a tradition at Holland Park for many years that we should make public announcements of the score of England matches during big tournaments. I suppose I could make one of those “from the pulpit” type speeches about how opera and football are not so different, but the memory of Billy Connolly’s brilliant sketch on the subject is enough to keep me the right side of such pretentiousness. I have no desire to end up Pseud’s Corner (actually, I’d probably consider it an honour if truth be told).

It has been good to hear of the success of two OHP favourites in the production of La traviata at the Sydney Opera house. Kate Ladner, who will reprise the role of Violetta for us in July, deserves the success and Aldo di Toro, one of the stars of our season in 2006 - and who will return in Jenufa in June - was a big wow too. He is going to be harder and harder to get as time passes I suspect. When he knocked everyone out in Fedora, his phone didn’t stop ringing for a week.

And now it is back to the grindstone. I am feeling somewhat freer of the theatre build since we finalised the mezzanine contractors but it is never ending and I suspect I shall continue to be as pre-occupied with the theatre as I am with selling tickets and everything else. I have been talking to gardeners about ferns and hostas, lavender and sweet pea, banana and fig. If nothing else, we’ll have the raw material to start up an OHP brand homeopathic range. Or maybe a fruit stall.

Audience's of the future

Barely a day in the word of the arts passes without a mention of "education". And of course, education programmes can attract lots of money from sundry charities or government bodies. Our own principal programme for this is the Free Tickets Scheme and I have to confess, I find it easier to raise money for this scheme than for almost anything else we do - £25,000 this season and counting. We are happy about this of course because we believe in the scheme - over 1200 young people will get the chance to attend normal, public performances in 2007. Every major opera company has an education programme of one kind or another; some focus on going into schools (we do that too), some are designed to make opera accessible to one group or other and some, like Grange Park’s prison project, have more ambitious aspirations to help turn people’s lives around. Most, however, when all is said and done, are about developing potential new audiences for the future. But I think the cultural benefits of introducing opera in its formal state to young people should have higher ideals than to merely increase the chance of them growing into future audience members (which is not a bad ideal I should add!) In Britain, among young people, the arts seem to me to be polarised. And too many people who work among young people are setting the agenda – in a sense telling kids what it is they can, will, should or are entitled to enjoy. It is incredibly damaging and patronising. It is getting better but I think exposure to the classical arts of young people is still criminally low. It needs to be pointed out that there is no “choice” to be made – one can still enjoy jazz, soul, rock or whatever alongside opera and classical music.

Among commercial sponsors of the arts, there is a growing desire to be involved with projects that are accessible. Korn/Ferry, our main sponsor, was very attracted to the open and informal nature of Opera Holland Park and they can be sure that their investment is indeed helping to sustain that principle. I recently met with another company and in the course of our conversation I saw an opportunity to present an “education” idea that has been floating around the office for about two years. As is the nature of these things, I can’t tell you the idea or the company! Suffice to say that it will offer thousands of children the opportunity to spend at least one hour of their lives thinking about, studying and listening to opera. I am glad to say that the company have responded well to the idea. It will be expensive – very expensive – but we as a company would retain not a single penny of the money from the sponsorship of the project, which we will in reality only be a partner to. We have to be clear about what the aims of these schemes are and that we a) follow through with them and b) ensure that should we succeed in sparking a love of opera in young people that we make it possible for them to actually enjoy the art form.

I note that Wasfi over at Grange Park has begun to fulfil her blog obligations (link provided in the column) and mentions meeting with James and I. It was a very enjoyable evening – Wasfi is never anything less than fully engaging company and it is easy to see why she has been so successful in building and sustaining the Grange project. Over a couple of bottles of wine, we had an interesting philosophical chat about the role of companies such as ours in the great opera picture; about how people on the outside see us as “competitors” when in fact we are nothing of the sort and actually spend a good deal of time communicating with one another in a cooperative fashion. We talked about how we might add some flesh to that co-operative bone so to speak. You’ll be the first to know how we get on.

The man from Kogorah, he say No

All of a sudden, issues that need to be dealt with are forming a long, disorderly queue. And I am not sure where to begin. I am yet to wave goodbye to the theatre build and design since a last minute change of configuration required two solid days of discussions over the telephone with men who know about such things. Thank heavens for computer-aided design! You'll be pleased to know that the upshot of these shenanigans is a centimetre more width to each seat. Yes I know it doesn't sound a lot. It is though. Trust me.

Clive James has declined the invitation to the Hall of Fame. As I suspected, now he has his new show on Radio Four, he has plenty of airtime with which to explore any number of art form. And that includes opera of course. I have several other people in mind though so there is no need to think the disappointment will end there.

Hundreds of Friends booking forms are pouring through the box office door right now but I am unable at this point to gauge what that means in sales terms. We’ll soon know.

Onwards

I apologise for the belated entry. It's over a week since I last posted anything and I am aware that people hang on my every word. Well, at least three people anyway.

It has been a good week but I am acutely aware of how this new theatre has precipitated much debate about how we do things as a company and is proving to be a real catalyst for change. Change can be unsettling and we are constantly examining and re-examining decisions we make, however exciting and obviously beneficial they appear to be.

James has had a great week for casting, finishing major roles after they appeared to have gone askew. Two fabulous singers from Eastern Europe are on board – a Russian and a Bulgarian – and that means the boards are full. Fantastic. Now it’s onto auditions for Flute in 2008 and just from the audition process that Simon Callow is inculcating, we can tell that the production will be far from ordinary.

Sample seats for the new theatre arrived yesterday and a procession of backsides were pressed into action (ooer) in the testing process. Overall space in the theatre, capacity and comfort are not always happy bedfellows but we think we have found the optimum point for both. The legroom seems cavernous but those of greater height than myself consider it “adequate”. If only we could tailor-make seating for the individual eh? The main thing though is that nobody will have their knees in the back of the seat in front of them and those of shoulder-widths greater than that of a cricket bat will feel less like a sardine. I am very happy.

We have been asked to participate in a television debate about opera. The whole thing has something to do with a series of programmes where the promoter Harvey Goldsmith lends his experience and talents to various entertainment acts and of course, he helped a small opera company. After each programme goes to air, they have a debate. This one seeks to “address the relevance of opera”. I am frequently amazed at how the media continue to peddle the myth that opera is a rarefied art-from and then proceed to ensure it stays that way by constantly asking the bloody question. I might agree to take part if only to growl at someone.

Speaking too soon

With the final comment of my last posting I tempted Fate. Fate couldn't resist and a big shiny bug entered the procurement process today. Actually, it's not that big, but it means more paperwork for sure and a round of meetings I could do without. This theatre had better be bloody beautiful.

The arrival of February means a few more hairs stand on end. Only two and a half months will have to elapse before the theatre build begins (shiver) but all seems to be on course production-wise and minds will begin to turn towards 2008. If that doesn’t sound especially impressive, one need only think of how we used to programme the seasons when it could be only 6 months before a show opened that we learned what the show would actually be.

Remarkably, someone did contact me regarding Clive James. And then I learn from the BBC website that he is about to begin presenting a new show on Radio 4. The man, having been out of the TV and radio spotlight since 2001, has his mug all over the place. Either my timing is impeccable, or it’s rubbish. I have yet to determine which.

BTW - it’s official. Clarinda cannot make coffee.

Clive James, where are you?

OK, it is time for the bloggersphere, biosblog or whatever it is to perform a useful purpose for me.

I want to speak to Clive James. I want him to do a podcast with us. Mr James is an opera fan of immense passion, is possibly the funniest writer known to man (NEVER read a Clave James book in public) and frankly, I think he’d be a brilliant podcast guest. You may wonder why I don’t write to his agent? Well, I have. You may ask why I haven’t tried to contact his website? I have. You see, after a while, one starts to feel like a stalker as opposed to a serious opera manager who wants to offer Mr James a way (probably unwanted) of spending a couple of entertaining hours. The irony is that at one time, I was in touch with him. He even said he would write a programme note for me. I’ll set aside the suspicion that he probably thought I was a stalker then too. So coupled with his formative history in Holland Park (read his books) and his love of opera, combined with our past correspondence, he couldn’t possibly refuse. So that’s it. I want to go mano a mano with the Green Flash from Kogorah. So anyone who might possibly read this and who has the man’s ear – get in touch. press@operahollandpark.com should do it. Mr James is already a legend. I offer him immortality. You know it makes sense, even if he doesn’t.

I dare not say the words “the theatre procurement is almost finished”. So I won’t.

Four months and counting

Well, that's the second extra L'amore dei tre Re lecture sold out. Amazing really. If you want to know what is shaking everyone's tree you can read something about the opera here http://www.rbkc.gov.uk/ohpseason/features/lamore_dei_tre_re.asp.

January is at an end and Christmas was only five minutes ago. That means we open in about twenty minutes time. And I have been seeing crocuses. We never get to enjoy spring because it's nature's equivalent of the tune that accompanies the Countdown clock. And the clock is ticking. It's a terrible thing to be trying to hold off time. It is inexorable and just pushes past you with shrug. But we are on schedule, with Friends' Preview brochures going out this weekend and that means ticket bookings in their thousands landing on the box office door mat - it's head down and plough on for Cecilia from hereon in.

I had something of a surreal meeting with councillors yesterday. Actually, I was sitting in on the surreal section of a meeting before I presented a couple of papers of my own. They were discussing the annual review of prices and in our business group including sports facilities, waste management, leisure services, parks and cemeteries, there are hundreds of different fees and charges. Of particular interest yesterday was the section of the report dealing with cemeteries. A fulsome debate on grave sizes, ashes burial (I’m not talking about the cricket), exhumation, paupers graves and gravediggers’ salaries ensued. It was fascinating - if not a little macabre - to those of us whose daily life rarely takes in the detail of graveyard soil conditions and grave depths. But you know, it has to be done. Indeed, it did remind me that ultimately, the council has some very important things to deal with. Naturally, some wag referred to the body count in opera.

I haven’t yet advised our thousands of patrons of the existence of this blog but I know some people are reading and vanity is definitely kicking in because I am starting to thinking about how many. Insane really because I am already anxiously re-reading my text to ensure I don’t upset anybody and the arrival at these pages of hundreds more patrons, colleagues and peers would only heighten the anxiety. Blogs continue to get a bad press too; I read of Jodie Marsh’s blog yesterday in which she dumps various boyfriends unceremoniously. And Paul Daniels even fulfils his Blogger obligations whilst on holiday in Barbados. Errr..

Winter

Awoke to a couple of inches of snow. I found it hard not to take it personally. It's like we are sending out the first big batch of booking forms for the summer with a cheeky, fluffy white chuckle attached. Yesterday, someone told me that long-range weather forecasters were predicting our hottest summer ever.

Being watched

"I'm loving your blog!" said the friend (a singer) over a birthday (James’s) drink on Friday. I wasn't aware anybody other than a select few were following this blog so it came as something of a surprise. Sure enough, a quick check on “Google” showed that the blog comes up when searching OHP. So there it is, I’m in the ether and suddenly I am even more acutely aware of what I am saying. I’d better not mention waking up fully clothed in the bath after said drink on Friday.

As if to emphasise the point of behaving well in public, even on private time, we bumped into a person who works for our main sponsors Korn/Ferry at the birthday bash (which was in a normal public bar, not a private event). Fortunately, whatever deeds led to the later bath episode occurred after said sponsor representative had left. Cognitive thought was obviously at play since I had clearly taken the trouble to make myself comfortable but it was as divorced from my memory as it is possible to be. She emailed today to point out what perfectly behaved gentlemen we had all been. Ahem.

It was made acutely obvious to us during the 2006 season that the press love a good story about late night “luvvie” behaviour. A very late night episode of handbags between a singer and a director was turned into headline news. I had tried to point out that a special supplement had better be put aside for us if they wanted such stories because I have three arguments of far greater intensity per week. Or should that be per day? But it was a salutary lesson and we shall ensure the dancing girls only turn up at the really secret fight nights.

I think the theatre is coming together beautifully. I say “think” because I am not really sure such is the blizzard of paper and drawings. Mike H, our technical manager is taking more of the practical stuff over as contracts get signed. I hope that by April I will have been able to turn my mind to what I am supposed to be good at – which is selling tickets. On June 5th, when Nabucco opens, we’ll know how good I am at buying and building theatres as well as filling them. But the slaves’ chorus will be met by shouts of “you think you’ve got it bloody hard?!” from the wings.

Mad for it

My attention was drawn today to The Grange Park website where Wasfi Kani has a blog. Well, where she has an empty blog because she evidently doesn't want to do it! Ironically, James doesn't want me to do this one either. Although I haven't made many posts, I have found them moderately therapeutic and something of an aid to putting the day or week’s events into some sort of perspective. Wasfi is someone with whom we have spent the odd evening burning the midnight oil and to be honest, I can’t imagine her writing a blog but I am sure an insight into her life at Grange Park would be entertaining. Maybe I’ll interview her for mine? Or maybe she’ll be smiling knowingly at me come the summer, safe in the knowledge that she resisted entering the Blogger universe.

At this time of year, as we are about to send out booking forms, we become eager to get a feel for the patrons’ reaction to the forthcoming season. This year, there is an early indicator – a special springtime lecture by Barry Jobling on the wonders of Montemezzi’s L’amore dei tre Re. Booking forms were sent out three days ago and already the event is sold out. I believe the Friends are trying to arrange another lecture to cope with the demand. There are 130 places on the lecture at Leighton House. How refreshing that so many people want to learn about this magnificent piece, which bodes well for the production in July. We have talked about the opera for years (at least eight) and I find it hard to believe that finally we shall see it on our stage. Naturally, one is concerned that those we have so persistently and forcefully encouraged to support it, will actually like it. Even if I say so myself, we have rarely been wrong in that respect and calamity has been held at bay. But the past ten years of mining the rarities so successfully really has been most rewarding. Yet the knowledge of past triumphs will count for zilch come the first night of L’amore. It will be one of those evenings when critics you never knew existed will be in the house along with the established scribes and people from around the world will be in attendance. Usually, there is a school of thought that the rarity being presented is a weak work (hence it’s rarity) but oddly, in the case of L’amore, it is widely considered to be a work of substance and quality. We shall see. But the journey for many will begin with those lectures at Leighton House in the springtime and I cannot imagine a more thrilling way to begin the run-in to the big opening. As an aficionado of the work, I shall feel a little like the critic on first night, keeping a wary eye on what Barry does with it. I suspect he will ask for me to be excluded from proceedings.

Pieces

The unimaginative title of this entry refers to the myriad pieces that we are all juggling to fit into the puzzle that is this most important of all seasons. Although I should add, there is an expression in London -"Doing my pieces" - which essentially means being driven mad. I'll make no further comment on that.

Building a new theatre has, up to this point, felt very much like a purely functional exercise. One just dives in and deals with all the practical issues, architects, engineers, designers, seating companies and the like. There is a domino effect in that one problem solved opens the door to another and so on. Raising the lighting rig means you have to reassess the stage height; giving more legroom means finding more foyer space, putting a staircase here means moving a bar there etc. I have started to feel like one of those variety plate spinning acts. And then there are contractors who don't deliver as promised, or those who tell you about new costs that weren't there before. But recently, as we drill down into the detail of things, some of the tasks have taken on a more creative aspect. There have been surreal moments, like the recent meeting with the seating manufacturer. Our office is pretty crowded and there is very little meeting space so we often decamp to the coffee shop opposite where we can get (as on this occasion) 10 people around a table with large plans and drawings (and have good coffee at the same time). The company brought with them a sample seat on a frame and there were a few odd looks as we debated the thickness of padding and upholstery, the shape of the moulding for the buttocks, lower back support and the height of the backrest. We chose midnight blue upholstery by the way. Despite the incongruity of this meeting and venue, it was refreshing and rewarding to at least get to think about nice aspects of the build. After all of the recent talk of soil sampling (we sit on London Clay in case you are interested) kilonewtons and hexial screws, a bit of interior design offered light relief. Next week: carpet colours.

James and Kate are really under the cosh at the minute. Chorus casting for six operas is quite a feat. James likes to use boards on the wall (he's no Luddite, he loves his Blackberry). Pencilled in cast members are ritually inked in with black pen once signed and it's a lovely visual representation of how the productions are coming together. Right now, the wall is fast filling with black pen as he and Kate recruit what seems like hundreds of singers. They need a break.

So would Clarinda, my assistant, if she hadn't just come back from two weeks in the Far East. So many tasks have passed to her whilst I find myself so embroiled in the theare project. But she sails through them with ease. I often need something to moan about and she provides little grist for my mill but I really shouldn't complain. Editing a magazine comes as easily to her as filling the website, doing Equality Impact Assessments are brushed off as nonchalantly as audience geographical analysis. I'll find a weakness though, I will. Since she doesn't make coffee, I am proposing she does it more often. Even the cleverest people can make shit coffee. And there is nothing like moaning about bad coffee. What with Clarinda, Kate, Claire & Kiki (Friends' administrators) and Lucy, our new events manager, we have a terribly well educated and well spoken office. Since James and I are neither, I think we should be commended for not having chips on our shoulders and offering them all an opportunity. Anyway, I doubt any of them would be happy in proper jobs.

Grey, grey, grey

As my colleague Clarinda puts the final touches to the Friends Preview - a weighty, glossy tome designed to introduce the season to our large contingent of loyal patrons - I took a stroll up to the theatre site for a meeting. The expanse of grass in front of the old house that we build the theatre onto every year was looking sad, rutted and the worse for wear as as result of days of rain. Soon, diggers will move in to create foundations for the new canopy masts and support cables using a mixture of concrete and ten foot long "screws" in the more delicate places. Once done, they will hide their work with re-landscaping. But picturing all of this endeavour and how it would all look come the first night of the season was a herculean task given the wind ripping through the park and carrying with it horizontal rain. Everything was grey; the sky was grey and even the grass and trees looked grey. It is a frequent theme of discussion in our office that it is as if we gather about us all of the obstacles one can imagine and then one by one try to clamber over them as we try to create one of the leading summer opera festivals in the land. I am almost certain that such an event could only happen in the UK. Our European counterparts have so much less to worry about - least of all the weather. I always hope that our Friends can make the leap of imagination that will carry them from a wet, dreary January to a warm, thrilling July.

A significant decision of sorts was made today which along with the steadily growing bustle of the office and new starters (it's getting crowded) signalled a real lifting of the working mood. I say "of sorts" because we had already made the choice of producing Donizetti's effervescent comedy "La fille du regiment" in 2008. It would be a first production of the opera for the company so there is always a sensible caution afoot as we gently feel our way along the line of works by the great composers. James and his assistant Kate went along to the dress rehearsal of the ROH production this morning and came away convinced that we will do the piece justice in our environment. It is helpful that Kate has studied the work academically. Apparently the tenor Florez eased through the dreaded procession of top C's that the piece is famed (and feared) for. Equally impressive was Natalie Dessay (whose "Bell Song" from Lakme I have been luxuriating in recently), oozing class and effortless, bright toned grace. The passage of high notes in quick succession that Donizetti gave his lead man often mitigate against the production of this work - finding tenors prepared to take it on is difficult. However, the general opinion is that Donizetti wrote the passage brilliantly, giving his singer every chance to prepare for each new escalation. It is a fantastic piece and the positivity of J and K means we are fully engaged with it now, even at this early stage.

By our usual standards, the 2008 season is awash with levity since Simon Callow's production of The Magic Flute will follow the opening pair of Trovatore and the Donizetti. We tend to be known for our tragedies (as Dickie Attenborough once said to a journalist friend of mine, "Every tear a dollar love") but it is nice to feel the fresh, sweet breeze of audience laughter dizzying it's way through the house.

The paperless society?

The end of the first normal-ish week sees my output of reports growing by the day. I don't know about the paperless society but if it ever arrived anywhere, it chose not to alight at the station marked "Local Government". It is an unavoidable reality when one is dealing with public money that one has to justify and explain everything that is done. Today I have done more justifying and explaining than you can shake a stick at. On top of reports about seating, mezzanines, screw anchors, block foundations, conduit surveys and bore-hole sampling I found time to write a briefing on our marketing and sponsorship activity to date, complete with strategic ramblings, postcode lists and sundry jargon. I need to get on with several 100-page contracts now. I'll be a qualified lawyer by the end of this season.

Next-door James is trawling through names and CVs with conductor Brad Cohen. On the day James is seeking to close off roles for this season's Nabucco, talk is growing of the cast for the proposed 2008 production of Trovatore. Talking of Brad Cohen - he almost leapt into the office bidding everybody a Happy New Year as he went. Nobody has any right to be that chipper in this office at this particular time of the year. Brad is a very talented musician and has been responsible for some of our finest moments in the pit and despite his oft-breezy (mis) demeanour he is terribly serious about his work. James and I are particularly fond of his straight-talking manner. It is always easy to propose an idea to Brad because a) he will tell you straight away if he thinks it is bollocks and b) the shock of hearing the dismissal is soon relieved by the soothing balm of the realisation that indeed, you can be sure that if he thinks it is bollocks - it is. Both outcomes tend to save us a lot of time.

I finally managed to get to hold of Jim Naughtie this week after a bit of phone tag. Jim often writes programme pieces for us and I love the breathless passion with which he talks about opera - both in his articles and in conversation. I find him to be one of those people (and there seem to be many of these in my world) from whom you pick up a nugget of knowledge every time you speak to him. He was of course presenter of Opera News on the BBC and is a monumentally gifted broadcaster in my view. Anyway, he agreed to join James and I in a studio to record a series of podcasts about the forthcoming season (very much like the ones we did with Simon Callow for 2006). Going mic to mic with a man who has grilled Prime Ministers and Presidents on the UK's flagship radio news programme will seem a little odd (perhaps I mean ludicrous?). I think I have the upper hand with respect to L'amore dei tre Re at the moment but I have to send him a CD of it and so no doubt, when he has assimilated and considered it, I'll feel as though I've never heard the bloody thing before. Hopefully we'll have those done in the early spring and available on the website soon after that (for free of course).

I still feel some trepidation when fulfilling the obligations of this blog. Blogs have become a kind of counter-culture and James referred to a programme he'd seen lampooning them. Worse still, there is always a danger of corporate blogs turning into an online version of a David Brent monologue. Feel free to warn me when this is happening. The temptation must be to make an entry for the sake of doing so. When you are filling in the incident report telling me I sound like David Brent, please take the time to point out that answering a telephone is not especially riveting. I do worry that there is something presumptuous about writing of one's daily travails in an office and thinking that there are people who will find what you do as you earn a crust to be interesting. There can be no doubt that if I am to make these presumptions and thus succumb to the vanity inherent in doing so, this whole enterprise should at least possess manners enough to have a point. But more pertinent than all of this is the expression James related to me from the aforementioned programme (and I paraphrase); "Blogs are like inviting people through your door in order to call you an arsehole". Nobody has ever waited to be invited to do that before so I suppose there is some small measure of comfort in that.

Bah Humbug

3rd January 2007

The first proper day back after the Christmas and New Year holidays became something of a half-hearted affair since I had my two children with me. I was in the office long enough to exchange a few words with James (producer) who recounted a Worst Christmas Ever story involving an obstreperous oyster and a Christmas Eve that sounded not a little like The Night of the Living Dead. I think we were all glad to be returning to something resembling normality. I am sure James was. Christmas comes at an inopportune moment for us at OHP. It’s very much like the lovable but weird uncle who turns up at your house unexpectedly just as you are about to tackle wallpapering the ceiling; you are pleased to see him; there are moments of levity and pleasure but you simply want to get on with the decorating.

It is about now that the season suddenly and mercilessly begins to loom large on the horizon. It has been a devilishly busy and awkward autumn what with the acquisition of the new canopy and seating facilities (a project still not concluded but not far off). The process of buying the new theatre is one of those projects that so consumes you, with the paperwork, the reports, the negotiations, that often you forget what it all means. Pregnancy is like that and I rather think the first night of the season will be a bit of a shock. Quite apart from the physical changes to the site and stage, there is the small matter of having 200 more seats per evening to sell (what happened to the pregnancy analogy? Ed). James has been contemplating a two-year plan for the first time and we are trying to assimilate a new events officer. Now, as the quicksand period of Christmas begins to vanish behind us there are a plethora of deadlines and milestone events that seem to act like a rope, drawing the first night of the new season towards us with ominous rapidity. It is about now that we begin to finalise materials to send to the Friends so that they can book their tickets. Sixteen thousand tickets will be sold by the middle of February. There is nothing like the surge of hope and expectation such a block of tickets represents to galvanise you. James has almost completed the casting for the season, which is something of a miracle given the normal schedule, and there are only the last few roles to fill now. And then all hell breaks loose for the production department.

We also have some serious new sponsors to take care of. Korn/Ferry have happily, detailed a person with whom I have a good relationship to marshal their sponsorship from their end. It will make life so much easier. I had an email from them today advising me that there were a couple of spelling mistakes in a draft article I had written so they won't be missing a trick. It can only be good for us all and an exciting three years beckons.

So it's onto the sales push both of tickets and of the all-important hospitality element that brings much needed additional income. It's not easy; the wind is howling and the rain is falling and we start to ask thousands of people to contemplate sitting in the outdoors. I think even we have trouble with that one.