First YAP production of Pagliacci in 1902

There’s no question that many regional opera houses in the US are struggling. Corporate giving to the arts has never really recovered since the dotcom crash, private philanthropy is shifting increasingly towards education, healthcare, and religious organizations, and a lack of standardized musical education means that every new operagoer has to be taught and then converted.

These are all external threats, and well known to arts administrators. But, one of the biggest threats is coming from within, and has the potential to wipe out most regional opera houses in the next few decades.

I’m talking about the way opera companies value their artists economically.

I know, you probably just breathed a big sigh of relief. “Well, that’s just silly,” you’re thinking. “How is this a major threat with all of the fundraising, union, and cultural relevance issues throwing themselves at us every day?”

Artists, and specifically singers, should be treated as assets, integral to building the reputation of a company, and even more essential to a good, quality product (the performance). Instead, in today’s system, they are treated as commodities, especially within Young Artist Programs (YAPs).

But — we don’t trade opera singers on NYMEX?

While oil, grains, or currencies usually come to mind when thinking of commodities, let’s go over the necessary parameters again: they are interchangeable; there is a fixed price for amount or services rendered (at a market rate); they usually decrease in value with an increase of supply. Merriam-Webster adds my favorite sub-definition: “one that is subject to ready exchange or exploitation within a market.”

We see this in the way most opera houses approach singer fees. A company creates a budget for a potential season, including fee estimates for roles. They hold auditions and make initial offers. The agent comes back, asking for more money.

“Sorry,” answers the opera company, “but that’s all we have budgeted for Musetta. We really can’t go much higher at all.” I saw this ceiling a lot during my own career (never for Musetta, though). Over the last few seasons I’ve been shocked as friends tell me stories of this bleeding into larger and larger companies — either as ‘favored nations’ fee structures where every principal is paid the same, or with set fees for each role that have very little (<10%) wiggle room. That is the definition of commoditization. And nowhere is it more prevalent than in Young Artist Programs.

YAPs and the cannibalization of opera

YAPs were created initially as training programs, but increasingly have been relied upon as cheap labor. You can cut pay for artists, especially at the YAP level, because the supply is large, with 1,000+ applications for 5–30 positions for many programs. It doesn’t work the same way if you’re hiring a marketing associate.

Three well-known summer festivals currently pay less than $400/week, which equates to less than minimum wage for the state in which they reside. Two festivals justify a paycheck of $200/week by pointing out that singers receive housing in addition to free coachings and artistic development. (Whether they include housing or not isn’t terribly relevant, as most singers still have bills and loans to pay back home). Most full-season YAPs at B/C houses have similarly meager paychecks.

True, it’s not easy being a young musician. You have to pay your dues. Actors have been shipping off to summer stock for decades. It’s the way the system has always worked.

So, you ask, how will this add to the economic difficulties of regional opera?

Climbing a ladder that’s missing six rungs

Well, each of these three festivals is looking at 2018 summer seasons with no more than five currently announced mainstage artists. The rest will be young artists. This trend began to accelerate during the Recession crunch of 2009–12, but in the last few years many companies, both festival and stagione, have turned the bulk of their lyric roles over to young artists.

This shift shows that, despite offering coachings and lessons, the focus isn’t on singer development, but on cheap labor. Many of these companies are hiring singers in their late 20s and 30s to sing leading roles, for nearly no pay. If Norina and Donna Anna and and Yum Yum are all sung by sopranos at a company, then what’s the next step for them? And if this is even happening at larger theaters, then the next rung is gone, and the conveyor belt of age will end these opportunities. Summer stock doesn’t restrict itself to only under-30 talent.

Similarly, as YAPs increasingly hand over character roles to young artists, a generation of mezzos, character tenors, and basses are left with far fewer mainstage opportunities. A general director once remarked to me, “where have all the good character singers gone?” My answer? “They’re working at a bank because their roles are being sung by 25 year olds.”

The situation isn’t all doom and gloom. Some companies have developed excellent pipelines, bringing singers back to their stages year over year, actively building their careers. Opera Theatre of St. Louis even created a “Festival Artist” designation to bridge the gap between YAP and mainstage, and its casts are packed with mainstage contracts. I think it’s no coincidence that OTSL has one of the best-paid YAPs in the business, has never accumulated a deficit, and has seen its endowment essentially double in the past decade. Treating artists well, as assets, is often a major pillar of financial success.

What now?

The YAP model needs to be flipped. Currently, companies are saving money by using Young Artists as inexpensive labor, increasing private and foundation donations by emphasizing education and training, leading to a healthier business model. But they are also decimating the middle-class of singers. Someone can have a full season of 5–6 B and C house contracts, and not clear $40,000 in a year — and that is before taxes, their 10% agent payment, covering the employer half of Social Security, and coachings and other role prep. To top it off, these gigs are increasingly hard to come by as more roles go to young artists.

I recommend that Young Artist Programs need to shrink in size. Fewer singers with better pay will lead to the financial health of artists and the future financial health of the art form. Singers singing leading roles deserve leading pay, especially when they are artists but not young. Fewer available positions will create a bottleneck of talent at the post-graduate level, but I think it is better to cull the herd earlier than allow for the mass die-off that happens post-YAP.

It’s true that summer festivals need young artists to serve as choristers (full season houses usually have a separate chorus). This does not need to be eliminated, but why should a young artist singing in the chorus receive essentially the same pay as one singing a leading role?

Some companies that can’t do this may have to reclassify themselves as training programs — that is, a stop on a way. Regardless, however, it is ridiculous that singers can be paid $200/wk to sing leading roles when tickets go for as much as $150 apiece. Some companies may not survive the transition, but I believe it to be necessary for the industry to survive outside of the Top 10 houses.

In the coming weeks and months, I’m going to be writing a lot more on how I think the business model for classical music needs to change to be both healthy and relevant. There a lot of relevant factors to this article that I will address later due to space (unions, a glut of conservatories, overhead glut, Baumol’s cost disease, the death of ‘starpower’ …). But, the first step is treating singers as assets — not in the casual sense, but truly as having intrinsic value which, if invested in, can rise to great heights and pay valuable dividends.

Are lessons from the corporate world even applicable to the arts?

I know that a lot of people enter the arts (and artistic administration) to escape the trappings of Corporate America. I think it’s wise to look to companies which can’t ask a big donor to write a bigger check if something fails. Over the last decade, corporations have realized that their employees are some of their best assets. They have also realized that when employees are also your product (as with many digital companies in the gig marketplace), treating your employees well pays off well. While I’m not advocating all of its business practices, Walmart recently discovered that by paying its employees more and treating them better, they had higher sales, cleaner stores, and greater customer satisfaction.

On the flip side, Uber has seen how mistreating its drivers, who are both employees and the company’s product, has placed a huge dent in both its financial growth and public image.

If companies don’t see opera singers as the product in opera, and invest in it correctly, then it might be too late.