New year, new leadership
Linda Begbie, chief executive of Manchester Collective. Photo: Robin Clewley
2024 was a transitional year for Manchester Collective as it began with the departure of one of its founders, Adam Szabo. Nothing will test the mettle of an organisation more than losing a founding director. Inherent vulnerabilities if there are any (which there almost inevitably are) get laid bare. In a start-up phase these are glued together by a founder’s vision, energy and – let’s be honest – dogged determination to see something into existence, something ours did so brilliantly.
In September I was appointed as Manchester Collective’s chief executive. Having been part of the core team since early doors, this news came less with a fanfare and more with a soothing sense of continuum. Now, however, I’m grateful for the opportunity to say a bit about my own guiding principles and how I expect them to shape the future of this beautiful project. They can be summed up in three simple words: radical, northern, collective.
Radical
adjective (especially of change or action) relating to or affecting the fundamental nature of something; far-reaching or thorough
noun a person who advocates political or social change
Classical music can mean a hundred different things to a hundred different people, so it’s worth starting with what it means to me. I choose to see classical music as a living, evolving art form. As trained musicians we’re acutely aware of our Western musical history and tradition. It’s in our ear, our language and muscle memory. But as artists we exist in contemporary culture, and creativity requires exchange with the world around us. We must be open and curious. There are no rules I’m ready to follow without questioning why.
Living artists need space to play, to try and fail and try again. Acknowledging this is radical in itself when perfectionism is still endemic in classical music training, and professional rehearsal schedules allow little time for experimentation. Of course, mastery of craft and technique is essential to any artistic practice, as is intelligent accumulation of knowledge, but in themselves those things are insufficient. When criteria for defining high art and low art are being rightly challenged, it seems especially important to allow space to address the pressing questions – how human is the work? How relevant? How real? Is it saying what it needs to? It’s important to me that Manchester Collective remains grounded in this space and is guided by truth-seeking, even if that occasionally produces work that is unpopular or uncomfortable. I’m keen to position us in dialogue with other art forms – not just brushing up against them but mutually probing for deeper points of connection, inhabiting each other’s worlds to devise new work collaboratively. We don’t yet know what this will feel like, and to me this potential is both exciting and important.
As well as retaining our commitment to brave collaborations, we’ll continue to commission new work. And we’ll continue to experiment with space and format as a way of connecting with our audiences because, in the end, the work is for you. All you need to do is sit with us for an hour or so if we’re passing your way. You can come as you are. You may not like everything you hear and that’s ok. Hopefully you’ll feel you’ve made contact with something, and you might even stick around to have a drink with us after the show.
Northern
adjective situated in the north
adjective living in or originating from the north
As a born-and-bred Midlander I have an appropriate amount of reticence in talking about the North. My maternal grandma came from a line of Lancashire millworkers, but they are a far cry from the scruffy intelligentsia of my own childhood, with its home education and countryside freedoms and weekend trips with Bob Dylan in the car. That said, I love the North of England. I lost my heart and soul to it – first to a man, then to the place itself.
I want us to celebrate this region and its influences – both historical and contemporary. Who could not be affected by the enviable combination of 21st century industry and ancient wild spaces? Or the incredible grassroots scene jostling side-by-side with ambitious new internationalism? Ok, let’s not over-romanticise: there are real challenges that should not be patronisingly brushed off as northern idiosyncrasies. Entrenched, intergenerational poverty; areas of low educational and health outcomes; rural isolation, to name but a few. And our art and music remains drastically underfunded just as it is in other areas of the country.
We can’t single-handedly solve systemic problems but we can carefully attend to what’s within our control. We can enrich the northern infrastructure of training and employment – the only meaningful way to grow and retain talent. This is something we’re leaning into through our work with the Royal Northern College of Music and our new artist development scheme EXPERIMENTA, alongside our engagement of regional freelance musicians and creatives. We can also facilitate cultural exchange – the flow and distribution of skills, information, opportunity and access. In this way northern voices, and indeed other underrepresented perspectives, can be amplified and heard. Unearthing those stories and giving them a platform is something the Collective can and must do brilliantly.
Then there is the second dictionary definition of northern: “originating from”. We’re rooted in Manchester, but the reach of our work stretches way beyond. We’re running with that. We’re as proud of our residency at London’s Southbank Centre as we are of our base in Miles Platting. We love our cherished home crowd in Greater Manchester as well as the loyal audiences we’ve built up in the regions – not only across the northern corridor from Liverpool to Leeds, but also in Nottingham, Birmingham, Bristol. Our audience base is one that’s still growing and now pushing well beyond the UK. This steady, life-enhancing process of relationship building is something I hope will grow from strength to strength in the coming years.
Collective
adjective something done by people acting as a group; relating to or shared by all members of the group; taken as a whole, aggregate
noun an organisation that is controlled by the people who work in it
I consider this to be the most challenging and potentially the most radical aspect of our identity. If you’re familiar with our shows, you’ll know the shape-shifting nature of our artistic community. This is indeed a crucial expression of the Collective philosophy, but I’m interested in extending it deeper. If the social function of art is to hold a mirror to the world and reflect what needs to be addressed, then for me this is it. I’ve always been fascinated by the contradictions in human nature. On the one hand, there’s an imperative to compete, dominate, divide and exclude. And on the other, there’s an incredible capacity to collaborate, nurture, share and resolve. With my whole being and to the best of my abilities, as a leader, I reject the former and commit to the latter.
It's not easy. Hierarchies are culturally entrenched. Capitalist workplace habits, norms and practices have been internalised as if they were beyond our own capacity to choose. And for many, many people, they are. I’m acutely aware that having choice is a position of privilege, so it’s not only from personal integrity but also with a sense of responsibility that I want to test the possibilities of inclusive leadership.
One of my first decisions as interim Chief Executive was to create an artistic planning team led by Rakhi Singh and Jasmin Kent Rodgman, a move away from the top-down tradition of unilateral artistic leadership towards a more democratic tradition of chamber music. Let me be absolutely clear: this is not every-decision-by-committee. It’s about creating an environment in which ego is secondary to the work. Behind the scenes Manchester Collective is run by a creative team of six brilliant, committed individuals. This team is the organisation’s brain, its control-and-command. It supports an incredible freelance community of performers and composers; filmmakers and photographers; technicians, writers, fundraisers, producers. This is what allows us to flex and reconfigure according to the creative demands of each project. Then there’s our touring family – our venues, funders, audiences and supporters. Wherever you are in that community spectrum, make no mistake – we need your contribution. You are the collective.
Inclusive leadership means I recognise I have a part to play, but also that I’m integrally connected to an ecosystem which – like all ecosystems – needs diversity and balance to sustain life. Might a subtle but powerful mindset shift impact our thinking about how institutions are run? I’m not sure… In a few years I hope to let you know.
LINDA BEGBIE