Despite the good news on the horizon, we are unfortunately approaching a very obscure anniversary: 2 years of unpredictable closures of concert halls in Quebec.
Since March 2020, the artists have all experienced, in their own way, various stages of grief: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, acceptance. We are in forgiveness and reconstruction, which can begin with the certainty that our places of distribution will remain open, as in Europe and the United States.
In Quebec, theaters were closed for more days than anywhere else in Canada. In Alberta, in Ontario, the artists were able to share their work in a more stable way than in Quebec, a place of creation that we ourselves qualify as the ultimate bastion of artists in North America.
Yes, I understood the numbers well and I know how to calculate. We only have 1,865 hospital beds per million inhabitants in Quebec, which puts us in a precarious position compared to other places. A question arises: is art “essential” and must this industry, which represents a large part of what Quebec has to offer on the international scene, be assured of being able to operate despite everything?
Art, entertainment?
According to the former premier of Quebec, Bernard Landry, himself an economist, the culture sector in Quebec brings in as much as the mining, forestry and fisheries sectors combined. So from an accounting point of view, we are also “essential”. So why have we all been convinced, artists included, that art is not an essential need, and rather is, as our new director of public health so aptly pointed out , a ” entertainment »?
This qualification of our work shocked us a lot. Art, entertainment? Truly? This rather simplistic statement is inadmissible coming from a director of public health. Doctor Boileau, with all due respect, you should have attended one of the 110 concerts that the Orchester symphonique de Longueuil and I have given since April 2020 in CHSLDs and hospitals across Quebec, from Gatineau to Gaspé… It was certainly a way to share good music, but it was also our concrete response to the request of our governments to contribute with our arms.
I believe our music has served as a spiritual vaccine for many patients, some who had not been out of their rooms for months before our arrival, and others who, according to their nurses, were miraculously
“cured” of their spasms during our concerts. In my opinion, our music, our presence, are essential services that go far beyond the first level of “entertainment”.
The silence of the artists
And what has been even more surprising for the past few months is the relative silence of the artists… me included! The reason: I was afraid to speak. Yes, the government helped me survive with grants to assist in my “reinvention”.
Yes, I am very grateful to them. But does accepting the money mean that I must and should give my unconditional support to any decision or action? Should I close my box, or serve as a propagandist tool during crisis management? Should I apply the adage “don’t bite the hand that feeds you”?
In my humble opinion, not everyone talks about it enough and we must give a real voice to those who have been repeatedly silenced for more than 700 days.
Alexandre DaCosta, Conductor and Solo Violinist, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor | Longueuil Symphony Orchestra and Artistic Director | Stradivari Festival
–
