49 minute read
Arts Funding
Arts Funding – Where Now?
Ed Vaizey (1981-85) argues that the UK needs a reset
Jennie Lee, the first ever arts minister, appointed by Harold Wilson, said that all the arts wanted from government was “money, policy and silence”. It is a pretty fair and accurate summary of how successive British governments have approached the arts since Lee came to office in 1964.
Iwas lucky enough to serve as David Cameron’s arts minister between 2010 and 2016. In fact, I held on for grim death until I had surpassed Lee’s record tenure. I also published the first White Paper on the arts since Lee herself. So it is fair to say that I operated somewhat in her shadow. Both Lee and I followed the same course, which on the whole has served the arts well in this country.
First, money. It is fair to say that the arts tend to look to their Minister to extract as much cash as possible from the Treasury. I have always said to my (numerous) successors that they will simply be judged by the size of the cheque they hand over. Given that I took office when austerity cuts were being introduced, I suppose I could be regarded as a failure.
Broadly speaking, the arts receive the bulk of their funding via the Arts Council. Originally set up after the war by John Maynard Keynes, it now supports hundreds of institutions with a budget of around £600 million. About half of this comes from the Lottery, for which John Major deserves huge credit. Lottery money (for heritage as well) transformed the climate for the arts, in particular allowing a huge range of capital projects throughout the country. Of course, being a Tory, Major’s contribution is barely acknowledged by the arts establishment.
About a third of the income budget of the Arts Council goes on just five institutions – the Big Five – the Royal Opera House, The English National Opera, the Southbank Centre, the Royal Shakespeare Company and the National Theatre. Indeed, the first arts institution to be directly funded by government was the Royal Opera House, in the 1930s. All this means that there is little spare cash to go around to fund the hundreds of other arts venues that deserve support. In addition, the government funds directly the thirteen national museums, such as the British Museum, which adds a hefty chunk to its bill.
Defining arts funding can be a tricky business. There is funding for English Heritage. Local councils contribute a great deal (though far
Jennie Lee, Minister for the Arts 1964–1970
less than they used to thanks to the cuts in local government funding in the 2010s). The BBC is itself arguably a great contributor, with five orchestras, Radio 3 and extensive arts programming. The Department for Education funds a variety of arts projects, such as music education. Even the Ministry of Defence has a tiny line of spending supporting Regimental Museums. And there are other bodies such as the British Council that cover this beat as well.
With a bit of creative accounting, you can argue that annual arts funding in this country easily tops a billion quid. Chuck in as much of the BBC budget as possible and you get to the many billions. This can be quite useful especially when people always bang on about how much the Germans spend, which was the constant refrain when I was in post.
Nevertheless, there is not enough to go round – and always demands from interested parties for funding (music venues and brass bands spring to mind). But actually, this is a good thing. I am glad that we fund the arts
enough to give them a base, but not enough to stifle their entrepreneurial instincts. Many arts organisations make up their income by being commercial (in other words giving visitors what they want) or from generous philanthropy, or both. It makes for a much livelier arts scene than that on the continent, in my view. And it also avoids the arts becoming avidly commercial, as they risk doing in the US. In effect, we have a happy medium.
It also makes the arts less “big P” political. To paraphrase the Jennie Lee dictum, the policy IS silence. For years we have employed the “arm’s-length” principle, whereby the government funds the arts, but does not dictate what arts institutions should do. This serves many useful purposes. It means that the people appointed to runs arts venues and museums actually know what they are doing, rather than being has-been politicians. It means that when the Greeks come calling for the Elgin Marbles, the Government can tell them to talk to the British Museum. And it means that people can put on shows and exhibitions without fear or favour – and the government does not get blamed when they inexplicably back some nude hippy dance ensemble covering itself in spaghetti hoops.
Sadly the arm’s-length principle is now under threat. Not from a bunch of politically-correct lefties determined to shove their views on the rest us, but from a Conservative government no less. Not even Maggie, exasperated as she was by the left-wing intelligentsia, would have dreamed of doing what our current Culture Secretary has done – namely to summon the heads of all our heritage bodies to a kind of re-education camp to tell them what parts of our history they can and cannot explore. I fear that the government in its absurd anti-woke Don Quixote style culture war has lurched on to a rather slippery slope. And slippery slopes tend to lead to great tumbles.
COVID has obviously hit the arts hard – harder than almost any sector apart from pubs and restaurants (which are arguably part of the arts in any event). Brexit has also dealt a body blow, by making touring in Europe prohibitively expensive. So we need a reset.
We need to ensure arts funding is put on a sustainable level. There is room for greater generosity – and certainly a plan to put in place long-term arts funding, so there is not the three-year scramble for funds. The arts budget is small enough to be set for the long-term and forgotten about. We also need to fund more smaller arts organisations outside London. I would fund the Big Five directly and let the Arts Council spend additional cash on new clients. Finally, I would learn from tech – and have an innovation fund and approach that puts Britain at the forefront of digital innovation in the arts.
We are very lucky in this country – world-leading museums, terrific national performing arts organisations, and broadly speaking the right approach. Just as Keynes began a new era after the War, let us do it again, after the pandemic.
A Life with The Bard
Tim Hardy (1954-59) describes how ‘Shakespeare has it covered’.
‘We’d very much like you to play Antonio the Sea Captain!’ This from a boy I’d never met, waiting for me after class.
‘It’s a production of Twelfth Night we’re putting on ourselves.’ ‘Sorry, you’ve got the wrong person. I’ve never acted in my life.’ I could have added that I had absolutely no desire to do so, now or at any time in the foreseeable future.
‘Well, actually we’ve asked everyone else who’d be available. You’re the only one left.’ ‘As in bottom of the barrel.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘Look, you wouldn’t have to act or anything, there isn’t time now. We’re into the third week of rehearsals. Just learn the lines and say them.’
And that is what I did. He was right, there was not time to do anything other than learn the lines and say them, in this case more-or-less in the right order. To be honest, I did see a lot of acting – or rather A-C-T-I-N-G – going on around me, while all I could do was hope the words would do the work for me. And in a strange way that I could not explain, I did come to like the taste – the feel – of the words in my mouth.
Anyway, all went well and when it was done we celebrated with several cartons of J Lyons’ Dunky Doughnuts, delivered direct from Cadby Hall just by the school, and therefore warm and fresh in a way you could never find in the shops. One of the best reasons for going to St Paul’s.
‘Well done, Scalchi.’ This was Mr Pirkis (Master 1955-86), President of E Club. ‘Oh….thank you, sir.’ ‘Yes…you’re quite good at this.’
And that was the moment it all began. In all my time at the school, no one had ever said I was good at something – anything. In any discipline, scholastic or sporting, if I did my very best I might just about be average, and often not even that.
Mike Brearley, in his book ‘The Spirit of Cricket’, talks about the need to play sport not just because you are supremely talented, but also because it is something worth doing just for the love of the game. He quotes GK Chesterton (1887-92): ‘If a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing badly.’ That will be me.
But now I had stumbled on something that it seemed I might be quite good at! And it was this, more than any love of acting itself that initially drove me on. And here I am, over six decades later, still doing my best to be quite good at it.
My last term at school, I was playing Comus for Mr Harbord (Master 1928-1967), and the ‘acting bug’ – addiction actually – had truly taken hold. To my family’s dismay, I said I wanted to be an actor.
‘You try for RADA and that’s it. If you don’t get in there, forget it.’ That was the deal. No pressure then.
A young master, not long at the school, tried to take me in hand. He shall remain nameless, and is still my hero. Gently, he told me that —
‘Scalchi, you probably think acting is all glamour, fame, and wealth. This is what we read in certain newspapers. The truth is very different. I’d like you to know that my sister is an actress, and for her, life is a constant struggle. She may get a part in repertory from time to time, when she has to leave her home and live in digs which can be quite depressing, when the remuneration is poor – she is always short of money – she has, very occasionally, appeared on television, always just a few lines, and most of the time has to take temporary jobs just to make ends meet. This is her life.’
I was at a loss. This was too important a conversation not to say everything that might be relevant. And yet, the obvious point to make was just not the kind of thing you could say to a master. But he seemed so kindly, and it »
was he who had instigated the conversation, so...
‘Is it also….perhaps…sir….possible….that your sister….is – not very good?’ I remember the moment so clearly. Silence. He looked away, and then down at the ground. And then he said, with such sadness, ‘This is also true.’ My hero indeed.
RADA did not teach me how to act, because that is not something that can ever be taught. RADA set me on the path towards becoming the best actor I could possibly be. And gave us all practical advice on how we might survive in this ferociously competitive business. And suggested I get myself an English name – we were not so multi-cultural then – and with a sense of guilt that has never entirely gone away I took my mother’s maiden name.
A wonderful job touring America saw my first attempt at getting the requisite visa. Many, many forms, the first of which had 64 questions. Including,
‘Have you ever lived off immoral earnings?’ ‘Well,’ I joked, pencil poised, ‘if you’d seen some of the plays I’ve been in….’ The kind friend helping me – I must have been away during the form-filling classes at St Paul’s because when faced with any kind of form I turn into an idiot – put a hand on my arm.
‘No.’ she said. ‘But I just thought — ’ ‘No. No jokes. They don’t do jokes at the American Embassy. Ever. No jokes.’
But it is true that there have been many times when I have wondered if this really is a job for a grown man. There are many reasons put forward to argue that theatre is not just important but essential, and a few of them might even be true, but on a personal level, for heaven’s sake, why do I still need to stand in bright light in front of all those people and say, ‘For the next two hours I want you to look at ME!’
However. Sometimes, like the man said, ‘stuff happens’, and sometimes it happens in a way that gives theatre the chance to show what it’s for. And on one occasion the stuff happened because of something I was part of. The Vienna English Theatre produced a play by the Irish writer Frank McGuinness, ‘Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me.’ It is a play for three actors, and is based on the true story of the capture by Islamic Jihad terrorists in Lebanon in the 1980s of men who were then held hostage for several years, and for the most part in solitary confinement. The character I played, John McCarthy, was held prisoner longer than anyone else, from April 1986 to August 1991.
We had just given our final performance, and at the reception for cast, crew, and selected members of the audience, I was to make a speech of thanks and farewell. Time was getting on, a lot of booze had gone down, and I felt I had better get on with it. One of the other actors was at a table, talking to two Asian-looking men I had noticed sitting in the front row. The actor had his back to me, so I tapped the side of my glass for silence. When the actor turned round I saw that he was in floods of tears. Now the room was silent, so I made my speech, and as soon as it was done went over to see what on earth was wrong.
The younger man explained. They were indeed from India, father and son, on holiday following the son’s release from prison. Without going into details, it seemed this was the result of ‘financial difficulties’, and in any event it was enough for us to know that the young man had served two years in jail, mostly in solitary confinement.
‘And you chose to come to this play?’ They actually giggled, both of them. The father said, ‘Well – because of the title – we thought it would be about Ella Fitzgerald. Maybe even a musical.’
And then the son explained. To his dismay, he had found that the real and lasting damage had been caused not by the experience itself, but by the loneliness he felt now he was back among family, friends, and colleagues at work.
‘You can’t describe what the experience was really like, because you lock it away, bury it, and then blame your loved ones for not understanding. Now, the more I’m surrounded by people, the more I’m alone, and this frightens me. But this play, it gets to the heart of what it’s actually like. Yes, other people have been through what I went through. I knew that intellectually, of course, but that wasn’t enough, in spite of the therapists, medication, hypnosis, I’ve never felt I was part of anything, ever since I came out.’
Tim Hardy as Comus
He went on to say that he felt he had truly seen himself on stage, and that because the play was based on true events and real characters, here was evidence that you could not just survive, but also perhaps, in time, actually recover. Interestingly, he said that – though he still had so much to process from the evening – he felt that the one thing more than any other that had helped him to believe in the play, was the humour.
‘I think that, in the end, it’s an understanding of the bizarre humour that comes out of such an experience, that most separates those who have known solitary confinement, and those who can only hear about it.’
We exchanged addresses, and months later I received a letter from the father. His son was truly on the mend, and he wanted me to know that both son and his therapist believed that his visit to the theatre that night was what ‘broke the dam’, and started the journey towards his eventual recovery.
Sometimes, this is what theatre can do: it tells us, ‘You are not alone.’ I know that in my long life, everything I have experienced – really good, really bad, and all the stuff in between – Shakespeare has it covered somewhere in his plays or sonnets. And there is comfort in that. There are dickheads who have come before me, and no doubt others who are yet unborn. Theatre, along with the other art forms, can help to show us – sometimes even explain – who we are.
And yet…..When I think of the sometimes almost frenzied silliness of our business, of the ever-increasing worship of celebrity….I think of the actor who appears on my television screen, it seems about once a month, to tell the watching millions what a very private person he is. I think of the Britain’s Got Talent’ competitor who – after screaming the obligatory ‘Oh my God!!!’ tells us through the heaving sobs that her life ‘has changed for ever!!’
And then I think of that wonderful performer Rita Moreno, who in 1962, for her performance in West Side Story, won the Oscar for best supporting actress. In the following press interview, a rather over-excited young reporter asked her how she felt, given that —
‘Now your life has changed – I mean for ever!’
She replied, ‘Who won this Oscar last year?’ No one knew the answer. She smiled and asked for the next question.
But I am truly grateful to have earned a living doing something I love. I am in my 25th year now as a freelance faculty member at RADA, serving on the Admissions Panel and directing Shakespeare on the many short courses. I have just managed, I hope, to play Shylock on zoom – old dogs and new tricks comes to mind – and a few weeks ago, for RADA – also on zoom – I directed ten actors from all over the world in Shakespeare monologues. This brought people together from Florida, St Petersburg, Delhi, Rome, Karach... One actor, in Peru, when we said goodbye, told me that the only place he had been able to get connection on his laptop was sitting on his loo. By such means will theatre survive.
Robin Hirsch (1956-61) remembers the Combined Cadet Force’s Annual Inspection from his memoir, LAST DANCE AT THE HOTEL KEMPINSKI.
Leading Cadet Hirsch
“The Annual Inspection of the Combined Cadet Force this year will be conducted by a distinguished Old Boy of the School, Field Marshal Viscount Bernard Montgomery of El Alamein.” which the legendary RAF was made. Indeed it was largely because I was so inconspicuous a presence that I found myself this year in the central role of the Air Force demonstration. I had been volunteered.
We were going to demonstrate a parachute jump. The force of landing in a parachute is equivalent to jumping off a thirteen-foot wall. I was going to be strapped in a parachute harness with a rope attached. At the end of this rope would be six other Air Force Cadets who would collectively represent the Wind. I would climb to a plank suspended between two ladders thirteen feet above a mattress. At a given signal I would jump. After I landed the six cadets representing Wind would pull me across the playing field until I released myself.
The day arrives. It is of course the hottest day of the year. Teachers in gowns, parents in lightweight suits and summer dresses are arrayed on the playing field stands. We are arrayed five hundred strong on the tarmac, which is melting. We wait. We wait interminably. We mutter. I wonder about my parents out there on the grass with their German accents – please God, may they not speak to anyone.
Eventually, instructions filter down to our platoon commander and we are told to stand easy. We wait some more. Trickle, the Captain of School, and the Senior Under Officer appear from a balcony on the second floor
We all knew about Monty. He was a nebbish, he had a totally undistinguished school career, he had a totally undistinguished career at Sandhurst, but by dint of hard work he had risen in the ranks, gone to Africa, defeated Rommel, and saved the country from the Germans. Then he came back and saved the rest of the world with some American named Eisenhower who was now President of the United States – indeed they had planned and executed the entire Normandy Invasion from their joint Headquarters in the High Master’s (aka Trickle’s) study.
Annual Inspection was at best a dreary business, five hundred of us ranked in platoons, schoolboys pretending to be soldiers, standing on the tarmac behind the school at the height of summer, dressed in thick itchy woolen uniforms with boots, buckles, belts and webbing mercilessly polished, rifles with fixed bayonets at our sides, waiting for the Inspecting Officer with his aides de camp to walk up and down every single line looking at our nose hair.
After this there would be demonstrations by the different arms of the Cadet Force. I was in the Air Force, but I was hardly the stuff of looking for Montgomery. They confer. The Senior Under Officer descends. Trickle and the Captain of School with-draw. On the tarmac now boys faint. Members of the PT squad in white shorts and shortsleeved shirts rush in and remove them on stretchers.
Finally, after two and a half hours, a black bullet proof Avis roars round the school and onto the tarmac and a little man in a beret jumps out, followed by several larger men in military hats. Platoon commanders now spring into action, bringing their exhausted troops to attention. Trickle and the Captain of School reappear on the balcony. The little man strides up to the Senior Under Officer and begins the inspection. He looks at boots. He looks at trouser creases. He looks at pimples. It takes forever. After inspecting a given platoon he instructs the platoon commander to turn his men in a different direction. After he has finished with the last platoon he disappears inside the school and reappears on the balcony with Trickle and the Captain of School.
Platoon commanders are busy bringing their troops to attention and turning them round again. “Pltoon, atten . . . SHUN,” is heard all over the tarmac.
“Platoon, left . . . TURN.” “Platoon, right . . . TURN.” “Platoon, about . . . TURN.”
When we are all back facing in the original direction, the Contingent Commander shouts, “Contingent,
shoulder . . . ARMS.” This we had carefully rehearsed. Up, two, three; over, two, three; down. “Contingent, present . . . ARMS.” Arm, two, three; rifle, two, three; stamp – five hundred feet come crashing down. “Contingent, forward . . . MARCH.” This too we had carefully rehearsed. We march forward, closing ranks until all five hundred of us are marching in place with our nose in the nape of the neck ahead of us. “Contingent, . . . HALT!” We halt. “Contingent, stand at . . . EASE!” We stand at ease. “STAND . . . easy.”
This is the moment for Montgomery to address us. “Men,” he begins in his clipped voice. Then he explains how hot it is and how if you are in the desert fighting the Germans as he had been it can be beastly uncomfortable, which is why he had had our platoon commanders turn us around. Then he asks us to sit on the ground. This we have not rehearsed and is in fact impossible. We are so close that there is not enough room. Nevertheless we try. We slide down our rifles and manage to get the seats of our trousers onto the melting macadam. Then he tells us how important we are to the defence of the country and how important the country is to the defence of the rest of the world and how considerate he has been in having us sit down now and how when we have two million men under our command as he had had we will remember this day. He concludes and we climb back up our rifle butts, black tar stuck to our behinds.
“Contingent, atten . . . SHUN!” “Contingent, remove . . . HEADGEAR!” Head, two, three; up, two, three; down. “Contingent, three cheers for the Inspecting officer. . . HIP, HIP . . .” And from five hundred throats “HURRAYYYY . . .” and five hundred arms with five hundred berets go up in the air.
Twice more. And then, “Contingent, replace . . . HEADGEAR!” Up, two, three; head, two, three; down.
Monty Inspecting the CCF
This of course is where it all breaks down – five hundred berets are now balanced incongruously on five hundred heads. However the Army is never at a loss.
“Contingent, stand at . . . EASE!” Stamp. “STAND . . . easy.” We stand easy. “Contingent, adjust . . . HEADGEAR!” Shuffle, shuffle, five hundred rifles slither between a thousand legs. We adjust our berets.
Then we march past the reviewing stand and salute Montgomery who salutes us back and then the entire cadet force breaks up into demonstration units.
My parents are there and dimly as I climb the ladder I can make them out on the fringes of the crowd, my mother in a summer dress and a hat with a veil, my father in one of his German suits, smoking. We go through our routine half a dozen times and suddenly Montgomery and his party are upon us. We line up. The Air Force Commander explains that this is a parachute demonstration, that Under Officer Williams, Sergeant Groves, Corporal Walsh, Corporal Stedman-Jones, Leading Cadet Jacobs, and Leading Cadet Sorkin will be representing Wind and that Leading Cadet Hirsch crouching in the parachute harness will now climb the ladder and jump off the equivalent of a thirteen-foot wall.
I climb. I walk out on the plank. At the signal I jump. Wind, however, keyed up by the importance of the occasion, starts running before I hit the ground, with the result that I miss the mattress altogether and land with the rope wrapped between my legs and Wind already tearing across the playing fields in the direction of the tarmac. I am screaming because not only can I not reach the harness release but also the rope is in danger of ending my sex life before it has even begun. We are mere specks in the distance, long past the playing fields, three quarters of the way across the parade ground, before I finally get free and Wind rushes headlong into the School wall.
My father says later that he heard Montgomery tell the Commanding Officer, “Damned effective show.” Or as my father says that night at dinner, “Nicht schlecht.” Or as my mother says, “Ach, all this marching, all this uniforms, they always have to make so ein Getue und Getah.”
LONDON’S WEST END
Rohan McWilliam (1973-78)
I wrote my book, London’s West End: Creating the Pleasure District, 1800-1914 (Oxford University Press, 2020), because of my life-long love of what this special area in the centre of the metropolis has to offer. Remarkably, this is a history no one had written before. As I write, the West End in lockdown faces the greatest challenge in its history (even during the Blitz it mostly stayed open). Let us look forward to a time when we can spend a day prowling round luxurious shops, meeting a friend at Eros in Piccadilly Circus, catching a show on Shaftesbury Avenue and eating an over-priced meal in Covent Garden.
WHERE TO EAT WHERE TO DRINK
The West End can boast the first restaurant in Britain: Rules on Maiden Lane in Covent Garden. Founded in 1798, it used to be famous for its oysters that men about town cherished for their aphrodisiac qualities. Walk through the door and be whisked back in time. It retains a defiantly old world feeling with its stags’ heads, Vanity Fair prints and hunting scenes on the walls. The food is of a similar highly traditional quality. It specialises in game (brought in from the Rules estate in the Pennines) whilst its steak and kidney pie is legendary.
More up to date is Gymkhana on Albermarle Street. Having opened in 2013, Gymkhana is one of the best Indian restaurants in London and enjoys a Michelin star. A friend recommended we go as it opened which was just as well. Gymkhana got rave reviews from food critics and quickly became booked up for months in advance. The restaurant goes for delicate flavouring, which contrasts with most high street Indian restaurants. The elegant oak panelling offers a refined environment that nods to a fantasy of the Raj. You will feel the price in your next credit card statement but it is worth it.
p Rules, Covent Garden Most places to drink in the West End are, let us face it, aimed at the lowest common denominator. Pubs can be packed out but here are a couple of recommendations if you want a quiet drink. For a pub, check out The Angel on St Giles High Street. A little off the beaten track, it is at odds with most modern pubs. There is no piped music and no Sky Sports. Instead, it offers cosy wooden nooks in which to drink Sam Smith's and have a decent conversation. The food is like school dinners but I suspect most Old Paulines are okay with that.
Much more up market, one of the best-kept secrets in the West End are the martinis in the bar at the Duke’s Hotel on St James's Place. Ian Fleming maintained that the Duke’s served the best cocktails in London and the bar returns the compliment with drinks named after James Bond characters like Vesper Lynd. I have often wondered why no one can make a gin martini as well as the waiters at the Duke's who mix the drinks in front of you. It is not spacious so you may not get in but it is worth the effort. The martinis pack a serious punch and on no account should you have more than two. The polite waiter will advise you against. Listen to him.
p Pollocks Toy Museum, Scala Street
WHERE TO VISIT WHERE TO VIEW
This is a bit of a cheat as it is just off the West End as I define it but everyone should go to the Pollocks Toy Museum on Scala Street when it reopens. The Museum is often under threat of closure and needs your support. Check out its collection of Victorian dolls, Punch and Judy puppets and toy theatres upstairs. I argue in my book that nineteenthcentury toy theatres were an important way in which the stage was opened up to children.
Make sure you catch the performers in Covent Garden. No walk round the West End is complete without taking in the jugglers, clowns, magicians and entertainers who perform outside St Paul’s Church (the actors’ church). Covent Garden was originally designed by Inigo Jones in the 1630s and very quickly became the site of a fruit and vegetable market that was only moved over to Vauxhall in the 1970s. Since the 1980s the market building (which dates back to 1830) has become a tourist venue. The performers engage in traditional form of entertainment such as mime and escapology. Where to see a show or watch a film? Well, here the possibilities are almost endless. The West End has been attracting leading performers since the 1660s and every theatre has a rich history. Movie premières are part of West End life. I have seen Tom Cruise taking selfies with fans outside the Odeon Leicester Square when one of his new films has opened. What makes the pleasure district special is that it combines so many different forms of entertainment and prestige shopping. Despite the challenges of lockdown, the West End is likely to survive as it enjoys its own special magnetism.
SHAPING OUR COMMUNITY
Ellie Sleeman, Director of Development and Engagement at St Paul’s School, gives an update on the progress of the Shaping our Future campaign.
When asked to apply for the role of Director of Development at St Paul’s I was living in Windsor with no intention of heading back into London. I came in to meet Professor Bailey and Governor Ali Summers and, almost despite myself, found my professional interest piqued as they talked eloquently and passionately about their fundraising ambition for St Paul’s. I looked at this impressive, historically significant school with its extraordinarily talented pupil and alumni body and felt a desire to help deliver their vision of more equal access – the way that it might have been when assisted places were part of the landscape.
My instinct was that the only way this could be done in a sustainable way was if we first built a greater sense of community; if OPs, parents and former parents felt an ongoing regular connection to the school, and if the fundraising ladder was pointed at the right wall, then the rest would surely follow. At that stage Professor Bailey handed over the communications and engagement remit too and my dream of escaping to the country was parked.
What has followed has been a huge amount of generosity from OPs and parents as well as hard work from Governors, fellow staff members, volunteers and a very talented team. The plan has stayed consistent – listen to what is needed, build the community through increased engagement and by widening access to the extraordinary events and content the School has access to (through the Old Pauline Club and committed parent groups in particular) and then share a fundraising vision to inspire those who are able and keen to support.
Shaping Our Future
We launched the £20m campaign at St Paul’s Cathedral in May 2019 with ambitious fundraising targets. Following consultation with our community, there were three elements: bursary and partnership work as the main strategic areas of focus (joint target of £10.4m), and building to inspire, which allowed provision for the West Pavilion and Boat House replacements (£2.5 and £7m respectively due to the complexities related to both builds), for those members of our community who wish to support capital projects. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, we have held back on our fundraising work on the Boathouse, which leaves us with a target of £13m. I am pleased to report that together, in less than two years, we have raised over £11m.
One of the most important elements was the scale of participation. We hoped that almost everyone in the Pauline community would feel able to give at a level right for them. We built on the 1509 Society model introduced
£11m
has been raised in less than two years
Donations 2018-2020
■ Parents 71% ■ Old Paulines 26% ■ Other 3%
by Old Paulines, John Dennis and John Ellis, offering the chance to support the school from £1.50 or £15.09 a month up to £1,509 and we have been delighted with the results. We now have 849 members of The 1509 Society and 528 regular donations being received which amounts to £155,000 per annum – the equivalent of six bursaries. 36% of all current parents are now supporting the campaign and 4.4% of all contactable Old Paulines – our ambition is to increase this to 50% of parents and 10% of OPs by the end of 2021.
This level of support will ensure that whatever happens politically, St Paul’s will have the independence to deliver what it believes is the right thing to do.
Any responsible fundraiser of course also needs to ask themselves what is being spent to generate income. My role of Director is split between fundraising, external relations and marketing and communications. On top of which there is a Fundraising Manager, Sam Bushell, and a Fundraising Operations Manager, Andrea Hudson, who runs the data, and financial processing elements. Alex Wilson and Viera Ghods who spend between half and one third of their time on fundraising related activity. For the sake of analysis we will say 4FTE plus revenue expenditure which still gives a very healthy ROI of £9.66.
St Paul’s Fundraising projections 2018/23
£000 2018/19 2019/20 2020/21 2021/22 2022/23 Total
Income Target
Actual Cash In 685 2,420 3,705 2,765 10,425 20,000
3,350 1,789 2,233 7,372
Annualised Regular Gifts 160 164 162 486
HNW Gifts Due in Year (Pledges) 1,771 904 515 3,190
Income Actual for Year 3,350 1,789 4,164 1,068 677 11,048
Projected Fundraising Revenue costs -333 -353 -431 -440 -448 -2,005
Net Gain 3,017 1,436 3,733 628 229 9,043
Cost to Income Ratio 9.94% 19.73% 10.35%
Return on Investment (ROI) £10.06 £5.07 £9.66*
*(IDPE Benchmarking 2018 – Development offices raising £1m+ average ROI is 6.3)
Creating a long term sustainable community
One of the key contributors to the success of the campaign has been ensuring the community feels able to engage and be involved. The Old Pauline Club and successive Presidents have worked tirelessly to ensure they are supporting the School and the pupils – and this now extends to funding 2 bursaries within the School. By building on the activity offered by the Club as well as the Parents’ Groups and teachers/pupils, we have been able to share an increasingly rich offer that has seen nearly 5,000 attendances by OPs at a school event since the programme launched in 2017. Our annual programme provides a variety of thought provoking speakers, predominantly from our own community, and COVID-19 has forced us to become more creative in terms of our online offer. We have now had nearly 12,000 attendees at virtual events since April 2020, including OPs tuning in from across the world – something they were unable to do when the majority of events were held face to face. We will retain the more positive elements of online programming when we hopefully return to normality in the foreseeable future. »
St Paul’s Connect, championed by former OPC President Rob Smith, is an easy way for the community – ultimately including partner schools – to communicate. We now have over 2,000 members connecting, sharing everything from job opportunities to a desire to offer mentoring. It is also an area where our professional networks (another OPC initiative) are able to interact and we will be increasing the range of professional networks over the coming year.
Results
Our bursary numbers are growing and are well on track for the initial target of 153 bursaries by 2023. This figure is just over 10% of our current pupil numbers, but also reflects Colet’s original provision ‘for one hundred and fifty three boys of all nacions and countres indifferently to be taught free’, emulating the biblical reference to the miraculous draught of fish.
The school partnership work has grown exponentially during this period. It consists of three main strands: Working in Partnership with local primary and secondary schools, volunteering opportunities in the local community for school pupils and supporting local, national and international charities. All of the Year 12 and 13 students have the opportunity to contribute to the programme and each week around 100 boys are involved in the work.
Every year, over 1,000 students from around 30 different schools get directly involved in St Paul’s School programmes and many more are involved indirectly or in one-off events. St Paul’s School is a founding member of the West London Partnership, an association of secondary schools from both the independent and state sectors in west and south west London. Its aim is to create a genuine partnership built on sustainable, collaborative projects, social inclusivity and diversity, and the sharing of resources and expertise, in order to address educational needs and to enrich learning for everyone.
Through three enormously generous donations from a lead sponsor who is the parent of two OPs and two current parents we are now within £650,000 of the monies we need to rebuild the West Pavilion (the Pavilion to the left as you drive in to school). We are currently applying for planning permission. Once completed, the revenue from hiring out the entertaining space within this new building will be another source of funding for our bursary and partnership work.
How bursary numbers have grown in the last five years at St Paul's School
Legacies
One important source of income for many charitable organisations including schools is legacy income. It is an area that supporters who may not be able to contribute in their own life time or those who wish to make a final gesture to reflect their previous giving may be able to make a difference when it comes to their will. For St Paul’s, which does not benefit from a large endowment, this income will be change making.
By becoming a member of the Colet Society, we can recognise you in your lifetime. We currently have 33 members of the Colet Society who, post COVID-19, will be invited for annual drinks with the High Master and Christmas Carols in the Chapel, amongst a number of other ways of sharing the community's gratitude including a Colet Society tie and pin.
THE ONLY WAY WAS UP – WHY?
Alistair Summers (1978-83), the Chair of the Governors’ Access Development & Partnership Committee explains school fee and cost inflation.
My parents’ final term’s bill, when I left the School, was £1,020 and it is no coincidence that my Dad remembers the exact figure. Even in 1983 it was eye watering. He was visibly shocked when I told him today’s fees are £8,636 a term.
He is not alone. Robert Stanier (1988-93) in his letter to Atrium calculates that in 1993 the School’s fee income was £5m (£10m in real terms) and in 2018 it was £32m. After such an increase, he cannot believe that the School cannot afford to cover its costs and pay for 153 bursaries without campaigning for additional funds. With some exasperation he asks, “Where is all the money going?”
I was a Governor for twelve years during which time I sat on the Governing Body Finance Committee. Robert makes good points that made me uneasy. So where has the money gone?
Difficulties comparing 1993 to 2020
There are some practical problems in finding out.
In 1993, the Boys’ School and Girls’ School produced combined accounts with both being subsumed into the Mercers’ Company accounts. I am not even sure they were published. The copy I have is simplified and runs to only seven pages. My analysis is therefore based on the Boys’ School making up 60% of the combined income and expenditure.
Today, it is easy to see in detail the School’s income & expenditure. Its Annual Accounts (available on Companies House or Charity Commission websites) run to 45 pages and tell you pretty much all you need to know.
Comparing Income 1993 to 2020
If my split is correct, in 1992/93, the School’s fee income must have been about £5m and in 2019/20 it was £32.6m.
As a charity the School must spend all its income on its charitable activities. It is fair to assume therefore that the main driver of its fees is its costs.
Comparing Expenses 1993 to 2020
If one removes fundraising costs (which did not exist in 1993) and the granting of bursaries, the School spends on the same costs as it did thirty years ago:
SPS Expenses
£’000 1993 2020 Staffing 3,052 19,712 Pensions 40 3,200 Premises 404 4,516 Education 115 3,584 General 962 1,627 Total 4,574 32,639
Size of School and Inflation
Some of these very large cost increases reflect a bigger School. In 1993 the best estimate is that there were 1,140 boys in the two Barnes Schools, today there are 1,485 – an increase of more than 30%.
More boys need more teachers, create more “wear and tear” and require more lunches.
Inflation also means that £4.574m would naturally increase irrespective of what the School did. The Bank of England calculates that inflation (CPI) between 1993 and 2020 was 2.083, which means that if nothing else had changed the costs of the School would have doubled.
That still leaves a pretty big increase. As can be seen below, all the School’s costs (apart from General Expenses) have increased well in excess of inflation.
Increase in SPS Expenses
Times Increase Staffing 6.5 Pensions 78.6 Premises 11.2 Education 31.2 General 1.7 Inflation 2.1
Staffing
The largest cost for any School is its staff salaries. Interestingly the School spent a slightly lower amount of its income on salaries in 2020 (58%) than it did in 1993 (61%).
Some of the increase in staff costs is because there is almost double the number of teaching staff:
Staff numbers
1993 2020 SPS 83 153 SPJ 44* 59 Total 127 212
*Approximation from 2000, as no figures available for 1993.
In 1993, the High Master, Surmaster and two Undermasters ran the School. Today the Senior Management Team runs to thirteen. This reflects a need to comply with more national and sectoral requirements and to be more sophisticated in the School’s management and recording of relations with staff and pupils.
As an example, in 1993, there was no formal appraisal of staff, today the system of review and support for all members of staff is extensive.
Parents, staff and Government expect better qualified and better managed teaching. The days of my Fifth Form Maths teacher storming out in a fit of frustration and banging his head on the wall outside are thankfully long gone even though I now have some sympathy with him.
On the non-teaching staff, the increase in compliance can probably explain the rise in costs alone. Thirty years ago, HR was a single person in a room near the changing rooms. Today it is a
whole department keeping the School compliant with Immigration, Child Protection and Employment legislation.
Equally, today’s School has roles that no one would have recognised thirty years ago – Head of Mental Health and Designated Safeguarding Lead being two good and modern necessities.
Teachers’ Salaries
The other component of staffing costs is what teachers are paid. Extra roles require more skills and qualification and so my suspicion is that the School has more, better paid professionals than it had thirty years ago.
Teachers’ salaries also have risen above inflation. To some extent this reflects St Paul’s being a London school where housing costs have increased in the last thirty years well above inflation. In 1993 many teachers owned or could afford to own homes in Richmond or Barnes. Not now.
Another anomaly of all schools is the pay grading system which means teachers get paid more for greater years in the job – inflationary because the longer you work the greater your pay. Even without cost of living increases this spine adds up.
Pensions
The largest increase in costs in relative terms has been pensions.
All teachers benefit from the Government run Teachers’ Pension Scheme (TPS). Like many public sector schemes, it is generous and now in deficit. In 1993, the Government subsidised the School’s contribution. The dramatic increase in cost is because that subsidy has started to be phased out over the last five years and will continue to be so.
In addition, the School has its own non-teacher scheme that is increasingly expensive because our pensioners are living longer.
Premises
Premises cost increases are a mixture of increased depreciation on new buildings and greater cost of maintenance and support. Some of it is discretionary; the rest is the world today. Security in 1993 did not involve sophisticated fire alarms, CCTV and automatic sprinklers all of which need maintenance and care.
Education
In my analysis Education costs include everything from the cost of running departments, to IT to school trips to welfare support costs.
I have no idea what is in the 1993 accounts but am pretty sure that the cost increase is newer costs (IT) and more being done (welfare). Although I suspect that today’s pupils have far better school trips than my O Level week away to Bourton-on-the Water and Milton Keynes.
So where has the money gone?
I am sure everyone who comes back to Barnes is able to recognise something familiar about the School. The reality is that running it now is very different to thirty years ago.
Today’s School is bigger, more sophisticated, with greater emphasis on supporting its pupils and staff and commensurately larger costs. It is also supported less by the Government’s pension subsidy.
Could the School save money? I suspect so but nothing close to getting the fees back to what my parents paid.
With grateful thanks to Alex Wilson and Owen Toller for additional information.
The OPC President Brian Jones (1961-66) comments on the Club’s initiatives, events and news in the last six months.
While lockdown restrictions have meant that Old Paulines have not been able to meet in person, I am delighted that this has not called a halt to Club activities.
Late in 2020 the Main Committee met to discuss a report from The Strategic Review Group. The most immediate impact of a number of proposals agreed was the setting up of a working party to propose changes to the Club’s governance and structure. I hope this will lead to changes being introduced that mean the leadership of the Club is more diverse and better able to engage across our membership, particularly with younger OPs.
The OPC has worked alongside the School by taking events on line. OPs of all ages and background have been involved in the popular Topical Tuesdays webinars.
I was delighted that we were able to hold a virtual Feast Service in early February, maintaining a 350-year tradition through a modern medium. Matthew Knox the School Chaplain led the service and there were contributions from the High Master, the Chairman of Governors, the Captain of School and OP clergy. The tradition of making a presentation to the rare books collection in the School’s Kayton Library was maintained, also virtually, at the end of the Feast. The book this year was a signed original copy of Fun and Fantasy: a book of drawings by OP EH Shepard (189496). (A recording of the Feast service and the Order of Service are available to view on the OPC website). I hope we will be back in the Cathedral and at Mercers’ Hall in 2022. As has become traditional for retiring High Masters, the Club commissioned a portrait of Professor Mark Bailey to hang in the Montgomery Room. This was completed in time for the planned unveiling at the Annual Dinner last June but unfortunately this fell victim to the pandemic restrictions as have subsequent efforts. I hope the unveiling can take place soon.
After two decades of service Tim Cunis (1955-60) has retired from his position as OPC Archivist. The Club is immensely grateful for the tremendous commitment that he has brought to this role and the contribution he has made. The Club has appointed Ginny Dawe-Woodings, the St Paul’s School Archivist, to succeed him. Ginny has already started the process of sorting and cataloguing the Club’s archives, which will be stored alongside the school archives in the temperature and humidity controlled archive room in the Kayton Library. This will result in our archives being available for research and enquiry.
The Old Pauline Club, as well as innumerable individual Old Paulines, owe a huge debt to Basil Moss, who died in November at the age of 85. Basil was President of the Old Pauline Club from 1991 to 1993. The two OP organisations closest to his heart were Colets at Thames Ditton, which he helped to set up in the late 1970s and then served as Director and Chief Executive for 40 years; and the Pauline Meetings, the charity which ran weekly Sunday Meetings, Easter and Summer House Parties and other activities for St Paul’s pupils in conjunction with the St Paul’s School Christian Union. In the 1960s and 1970s he was captain and inspiration behind innumerable OPFC rugby teams. When the OPAFC was established in the 1990s Basil was delighted to be its first President.
The OPC enters its 150th year in the summer. A committee has been set up to organise events in celebration. Old Pauline Club
Committee List 2021
President B M Jones
Deputy President
The Rt Hon the Lord Vaizey of Didcot
Past Presidents
C D L Hogbin, C J W Madge, F W Neate, Sir Alexander Graham GBE DCL, R C Cunis, Professor the Rt Hon Lord McColl of Dulwich, The Rt Hon the Lord Baker of Dorking CH, J M Dennis, J H M East, Sir Nigel Thompson KCMG CBE, R J Smith
Vice Presidents
P R A Baker, Professor M D Bailey, R S Baldock, J S Beastall CB, S C H Bishop, J R Blair CBE, Sir David Brewer CMG, CVO, N St J Brooks, R D Burton, W M A Carroll, Professor P A Cartledge, M A Colato, R K Compton, T J D Cunis, A C Day, S J Dennis MBE, Sir Lloyd Dorfman CBE, C R Dring, C G Duckworth, A R Duncan, J A H Ellis, R A Engel, D H P Etherton, The Rt Hon the Lord Etherton of Marylebone PC, Sir Brian Fall GCVO KCMG, B R Girvan, T J R Goode, D J Gordon-Smith, Lt Gen Sir Peter Graham KCB CBE, Professor F D M Haldane, S A Hyman, S R Harding, R J G Holman, J A Howard, S D Kerrigan, P J King, T G Knight, B Lowe, J W S Lyons, I C MacDougall, Professor C P Mayer, R R G McIntosh, A R M McLean CLH, I C McNicol, A K Nigam, The Rt Hon George Osborne, T B Peters, D M Porteus, The Rt Hon the Lord Razzall of Mortlake CBE, The Rt Hon the Lord Renwick of Clifton KCMG, B M Roberts, J M Robertson, J E Rolfe, M K Seigel, J C F Simpson CBE, D R Snow MBE, S S Strauss, A G Summers, R Summers, J L Thorn, R Ticciati OBE, Sir Mark Walport FRS, Professor the Lord Winston of Hammersmith
Honorary Secretary
S B Turner
Honorary Treasurer N St J Brooks FCA
Main Committee
Composed of all the above and P R A Baker (OP Lodge), N F Cardoza (Golfing Society), T J D Cunis (AROPS Representative), C S Harries (Association Football Club), J P King (Colet Boat Club), P J King (Fives Club & Membership Secretary), H J Michels (Rugby Football Club), J D Morgan (Elected), N H Norgren (Elected), T B Peters (Cricket Club), A J B Riley (TDSCC Ltd Representative), D C Tristao (Tennis Club), J F Turner (OPC Sports Director), J Withers Green (Editor Atrium & Social Engagement Officer)
Executive Committee
B M Jones (President & Chairman of the Committee), The Rt Hon the Lord Vaizey (Deputy President), S B Turner (Hon Secretary), N St J Brooks (Hon Treasurer), A J B Riley (TDSSC Ltd Representative), J H M East (Elected), J A Howard (Liaison Committee Representative), P J King (Elected), J D Morgan (Elected), J F Turner (OPC Sports Director), J Withers Green (Editor, Atrium & Social Engagement Officer)
Liaison Committee
J A Howard (Chairman), I M Benjamin, R J G Holman, T B Peters, A J B Riley
Ground Committee
J M Dennis (Chairman), R K Compton, G Godfrey (Groundsman), M P Kiernan, J Sherjan
Accountants
Kreston Reeves LLP
Trustee
OPC Trustee Company Limited
