Despite what immature movie stars might suggest, plenty of people are invested in opera not only surviving but thriving. There are pioneers pushing for, yes, a more inclusive form that tells diverse stories, connecting to a greater range of people. They include magnificent Yorta Yorta opera singer, composer and ‘lesbian by practice’ Deborah Cheetham Fraillon, Artistic Director of Naarm-based, First Nations-led Short Black Opera.
For almost two decades, the company, along with its associated Dhungala Children’s Choir and chamber Ensemble Dutala, have done exactly that, as driven by Cheetham Fraillon.
Short Black Opera at Gasworks – quick links
Singing stories and culture
A member of the Stolen Generations taken from her mother at three weeks old and placed with a white family – as relayed in her autobiographical work, White Baptist Abba Fan – Cheetham Fraillon is passionate about the artform.
‘My definition of what opera is is formed out of lived experience,’ she says. ‘When I was very young, at school, teachers took me to see my first operas in those days when you could access them at very low costs.’
Inspired by those early performances that spoke to her innate musicality, Cheetham Fraillon embraced opera professionally, including stints studying at both the Metropolitan Opera and The Juilliard School of Music in New York.
‘As I matured as a musician, as a person and as a Yorta Yorta woman, I realised that this idea of singing narrative in large form, while the Italians may have refined it, it extends much further back than the Florentine Camerata,’ Cheetham Fraillon says. ‘It extends right back into ways of knowing and being that First Nations people have held on to for more than 65,000 years. So I just felt there was a natural connection here.’
A new home at Melbourne’s Gasworks… and a funding cut
That connection has finally found a stable home, with Short Black Opera invited into a three-year residency at South Melbourne’s Gasworks by new creative director Sam Strong.
ArtsHub: A new era begins at Gasworks
‘It’s a phenomenal opportunity,’ Cheetham Fraillon says. ‘The beautiful Gasworks team are really committed to accessible art that’s for communities. You can see a show and it’s not going to cost you an arm and a leg. And they’ve proven, time and time again, like so many grassroots organisations do, that you don’t have to sacrifice quality.’
Hardly had this good news sunk in than Cheetham Fraillon received a devastating call. Creative Victoria would not extend Short Black Opera’s four-year funding.
‘So for the first time in 15 years, we’ve got a space where we can bring everyone together and no funding to do so,’ she sighs.
Difficult history
There’s no doubting that the arts are under assault in Australia, embroiled in a seemingly endless funding crisis. ‘More than a decade ago, I switched from thinking, “God, they’re so stupid. How can they dismantle these incredible systems of learning through music in schools?”’ Cheetham Fraillon says. ‘And then I realised it’s not careless, it’s deliberate.’
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The lack of cultural respect is two-pronged for a company like Short Black Opera. ‘You have to consider where Australia is at, in terms of its relationship with its own personal narrative,’ Cheetham Fraillon says.
‘Australia still has an identity crisis, struggling to articulate its relationship with its history, and this is where the arts can play a really vital role. Short Black Opera has been right at the pointy end of advancing that conversation, providing opportunities through the power of music and performance for a live audience to think and feel.’
That’s seen in Short Black Opera works like Australia’s first Indigenous-led opera, Pecan Summer, which wrangles with the intergenerational wounds of the Stolen Generations and Eumeralla, a war requiem for peace, detailing the Gunditjmara people’s battle against invading British colonialists.
‘If you couple the fact that we still struggle to articulate our beginnings, then you place that in the context of a society that doesn’t really value arts in the way that it needs to, because they play such a vital role in creating a cohesive and emotionally mature society, then the remit of Short Black Opera has been a really important, but very tough, gig.’
Cheetham Fraillon says the gig is too important to lose hope. ‘What music can do, very effectively, is provide a space for reflection, for elevated thinking and a connection between what is a very difficult truth and what that means for both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people.’
Short Black Opera’s defunding, and the knock-on effect on all those it supports, is even more galling when larger opera companies rarely create new Australian works, or, when they do, fail to tell distinctly Australian stories.
‘Where are all the Australian operas that tell our stories?’ Cheetham Fraillon asks, pointedly. ‘Where are the operas with First Nations narratives? Where are all the First Nations opera singers and musicians?
‘All that is lacking, for First Nations people, is opportunity. Their talent and ability are not lacking.’
Guiding the future of Short Black Opera and the artform
No matter the challenge, Cheetham Fraillon is determined that Short Black Opera will soar during its three-year residency at Gasworks.
‘I’ve spent the last few months in this sort of see-sawing despair-and-defiance tussle within myself, because those four years of funding were quite deliberately identified, in my application, to progress the company to transition into who the next leader will be,’ she says. ‘Now I’ve got to rethink how I pass on that legacy.’
It’s a legacy worth fighting for. ‘How is it that the state of Victoria has about seven opera companies but the only First Nations one in the country and, I think this is still true, the world, but only Victorian Opera secures funding?’ Cheetham Fraillon asks. ‘And I want Victorian Opera to have that funding. I want them to use that money to tell our stories, as well as the heritage operas. Those things are not mutually exclusive.’
If only Short Black Opera’s remarkable contribution could be secured, too. ‘Who are the peers who do not see that, even in a funding crisis, we are speaking to the people who otherwise wouldn’t be listening?’
Cheetham Fraillon hopes things can be turned around. ‘Sometimes we’re invited, and sometimes we’re knocking down doors,’ she says. ‘And when you do, you have to hold the ground. You can’t ever relax, and it does tend to wear one down. But First Nations people have millennia of resilience and a strong cultural connection.
‘But what kind of Australia could we live in where you didn’t have to break down the door?’
Thank goodness Gasworks’ door is open wide. ‘I usually say that we’ve been sleeping on the couches of other arts orgs for years,’ Cheetham Fraillon adds, with a chuckle. ‘We make hay while the sun is shining, and the sun is shining on Gasworks.’
Gasworks’ multi-disciplinary harmony is the perfect fit for arias that expand opera’s potential.
‘Bless Sam [Strong] and the beautiful Gasworks team. It’s a space that embraces all the arts, from music to dance, to the spoken word and visual arts,’ Cheetham Fraillon says. ‘Short Black Opera has always had an un-siloed approach that’s about all these things coming together beautifully in opera, which is a very natural fit for First Nations expression.’
The residency buys the company breathing room in more ways than one. ‘The off-lead dog area is a balm, a healing space,’ she says. ‘My godson and his fiancé visited, and he said, of the parklands, “This is such a happy place.” He felt it straight away. And it is. The Boonwurrung people have sung their songs here and we can draw on them every day.’
