“If the Bohemians had the advantages enjoyed by the Italians they would surpass them. They are perhaps the most musical race in all Europe”. Charles Burney (1773)

The authoritative 18^th century English historian Charles Burney was impressed with the cultural scene in Bohemia, particularly the value placed on education. Music was an important part of schooling and Burney discovered that “not only in every large town, but in all villages, where there is a reading and writing school, children of both sexes are taught music. … I went into the school, which was full of little children from six to ten or eleven years old, who were reading, writing, playing on violins, hautbois, bassoons, and other instruments. The organist had in a small room of his house four clavichords, with little boys practicing on them all.”

It was a bitter irony to be marvelling about the 18^th century Bohemian education system at the same time as the Australian National University (ANU) was proposing to subsume my Alma Mater, ANU School of Music, into a new School of Creative and Cultural Practice, effectively decimating one-on-one teaching and university music performance education in Canberra.

Such a fundamental change to this once-flourishing and internationally revered institution was being proposed after “a carefully considered process of consultation, strategic planning, and internal and external benchmarking”. In stating that its teaching would “remain fit for purpose” one must question whose purpose, exactly.

The bureaucratic language of ANU’s announcement is anathema to the creativity, curiosity and passion that is cherished in music education. And herein lies the problem. With society becoming increasingly corporatised and politicised, the arts are seen as dispensable. Reduced pools of funding and sources of support often reward compliance over creativity and create a culture of winners and losers.

After sustained community protest, ANU overturned the decision. However, as well as limiting a reputable university music performance degree to those who could afford to leave Canberra to study elsewhere, at no time has ANU acknowledged the profound effect this proposal would have had on the local arts community as a whole: from discarding dedicated, internationally renowned teaching staff to ignoring the value their own graduates make to our musical life. The flow-on effects of fewer graduating musicians would impact organisations such as the Canberra Symphony Orchestra, music teachers, composers, arts administrators and even the joyous partnership between performer and audience.

Australian artists excel on the global stage in many spheres, such as the peerless Australian Chamber Orchestra, which continues to attract international plaudits for their innovative programming and collaborations. In the orchestral Olympics, members of the Australian World Orchestra are all medal winners. And Historically Informed Performance specialists (HIPsters), geographically and culturally far from the source of their fascination, appear in principal positions in the most prestigious ensembles in Europe and the UK.

Many of us benefitted from an education system that once valued music as an important element of schooling but is increasing becoming accessible only to those who can afford it. My own formative government education included playing in the school string orchestra in primary school and the wind band in high school. ACO’s outstanding Schools Programs in Sydney and Melbourne should be the benchmark throughout Australia, ensuring that every child has the chance to experience music in some way. We should all be able to play a part in nurturing the cultural narration of our society and the important role it plays in social cohesion. Loss of culture within a society doesn’t just happen; it is a deliberate act – no matter how innocuous every decision may seem. Culture should never be considered a financial burden.

Charles Burney applauded the exceptionally cultured Bohemian society where musical activity flourished and attracted the likes of Antonio Vivaldi, Johann Joseph Fux and Antonio Caldara. Despite lacking the wealth of neighbouring countries, Bohemia benefited from generous patrons who capitalised on the region’s excellent education system in which music was a core subject. However, patronage was limited as many of the arts-loving benefactors were wealthy Italian and Austrian aristocrats who only spent the summer in their Bohemian residences. As a result, those pursuing a musical career often needed to seek employment outside their homeland.

Even prodigious and well-nurtured talent will wither without continuing opportunities and financial support. Burney attempted to rationalise the fate of many whose talent and passion were stifled by poverty or lack of relevant employment in Bohemia: “The majority of these children were destined for inferior situations of a menial or domestic nature, and music remained for them simply a private recreation; which is perhaps, after all, the best and most honourable use to which music could be applied.”

My university cohort of exceptional musicians, most of whom have gone on to contribute significantly as performers, teachers, academics, mentors and within the community, illustrate how investment in culture and education benefits society beyond the “measurables” favoured by economists. I am saddened by the thought that for following generations a career in the arts may be a question of affordability rather than a choice.

Centuries later, we continue to enjoy music from the legacy of Bohemia’s investment in musical culture. In the future, when we look at the history of Government educational and cultural policy in Australia, what will be our legacy?

Salut! Baroque presents Bohemian Rhapsody

Canberra: Friday 12 June, 7.30pm Wesley Church, Forrest

Sydney: Sunday 14 June, 3.00pm Verbrugghen Hall, Conservatorium of Music