An Italian Conductor Looks to US Models

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
March 6, 2014

An Italian Conductor Looks to US Models
By James Panero

The conductor Gianandrea Noseda knows what it's like to have the roof cave in. As the curtain falls on Act II of "Prince Igor," the acclaimed new production of Alexander Borodin's opera at the Metropolitan Opera, the roof in Igor's court of Putivl collapses in grand fashion: Sparks fly, beams and ceiling lights come crashing to the ground. "I hope the roof of the theater will not collapse," jokes the maestro, who will lead the Met's final performance of "Prince Igor" on Saturday.

Italy's continuing financial crisis could have spelled a similar fate for the Teatro Regio Torino, the Turin opera house where Mr. Noseda has been the music director since 2007. The country's austerity measures, which hit hard over the past five years, have slashed state funding for cultural institutions. And in the birthplace of opera, where the government has traditionally provided lavish support for culture and the arts, many opera houses have had no choice but to curtail productions, limit artistic recruitment and training, and, in some cases, go dark.

From Florence and Rome on down to Naples, most of Italy's opera houses are now operating in the red. But not the Teatro Regio, where performances increased to 110 in 2012 from 85 in 2005, even with a reduction in staff. Its orchestra and chorus have also just announced an ambitious North American tour, including an appearance at Carnegie Hall on Dec. 7, featuring concert performances of Rossini's opera "William Tell."

Teatro Regio's good fortunes can be attributed in large part to Mr. Noseda, the energetic 49-year-old native of Milan who has turned his country's financial crisis into an occasion to introduce an American idea to Turin: a culture of private philanthropy that will sustain the arts even when the government cannot.

"We need to involve the Italian people to support the arts," he explained during a lunch meeting. "To take from your pocket and give money for something culturally oriented—that philanthropic element is missing in Italy. Because, since we were kids, we have been used to the state doing that. So developing a culture of philanthropy is something that will take a generation. It will take 20 years to build that culture in Italy. But we are starting."

The issue is about developing not just donors but also willing fund-raisers. When it comes to donor development, European concert-house managers have traditionally been prima donnas more than rainmakers. The same year Mr. Noseda took the podium in Turin, for example, the Belgian-born Gérard Mortier was tapped to become director of the (now defunct) New York City Opera. Just as the financial conditions of that company worsened in 2008, Mr. Mortier—rather than pursuing new sources of revenue—bolted for a post in Spain when it became clear he wouldn't have the easy resources to enact his artistic vision.

"Of course it requires a lot of my time, but you have to survive. You have to continue your activity," says Mr. Noseda, who worries about the cascade of failures he now sees at other Italian institutions: "Less money; fewer productions. Less money; fewer singers. Less money; less opera." Instead, he says, "it is my aim to convince people to come along, to be supportive, to be part of the project, to really use the energy you have to get to a common aim." As he explained in a recent interview for La Stampa, Turin's daily newspaper, if he only did what his government could pay for, his opera house would disappear. But with bold plans, focusing on the global market, he is able to attract the funding to implement his broader artistic aims.

Five years ago, 95% of Teatro Regio's funding came from the state. Today, that percentage is closer to 75%. Ideally, he says, he would like to see private philanthropy make up 35% of his funding. "What I try to do is not to lose the majority of support coming from the state, but to integrate private sponsorship," he explains.

Such a mixed-funding model is now being pursued by other innovative Italian institutions as well. In 2006, the city and province of Florence joined forces with its chamber of commerce and private donors to revive the Palazzo Strozzi as an exhibition hall. With an autonomous board built in the style of U.S. nonprofits, the Palazzo Strozzi now boasts a business model that is "exceptional for its mix of public and private funding streams" and "its high percentage of earned revenue," according to its latest annual report.

At the Teatro Regio, Mr. Noseda's donor outreach has been met with support from Eataly, Lavazza and Fiat—all Turin-based companies—as well as from individual donors. The greatest interest, he says, has come from a younger generation of Italians such as Michele Denegri, the 44-year-old new owner of Del Cambio, Turin's most historic restaurant.

Mr. Noseda has found private support for his Teatro Regio despite the fact that Italian tax law does not grant deductions, along American lines, for charitable giving. Sometimes, Italian companies with U.S. operations are able to contribute through a U.S. charitable arm, but Mr. Noseda hopes that Italy will modernize its own tax laws to allow similar deductions for in-country contributions. "We will not copy, but we take some inspiration," he says of his new funding model. "So we have to find an Italian way to use these ideas that we can collect around the world." While Matteo Renzi, Italy's new 39-year-old prime minister, has recently promised sweeping tax reform, it remains to be seen if the charitable deduction will be included.

One irony of Mr. Noseda's enthusiasm for American-style cultural philanthropy is how such support has recently come under attack here at home. "Philanthropy for the arts or for cultural activities is, in a world like this one, morally dubious," wrote the Princeton philosopher Peter Singer in his 2009 book "The Life You Can Save." By contributing to a museum rather than to cataract operations in the developing world, Mr. Singer claims, donors are in effect blinding children. Studies by the Conference Board and by the Center on Philanthropy at Indiana University show that such antiart attitudes have been absorbed by many American philanthropists. Last fall, in a widely publicized interview, Bill Gates reiterated Mr. Singer's utilitarian condemnation of cultural philanthropy.

Yet the future of Italian culture has little time for armchair philosophy. At the end of the Met's production of "Igor," updated by Mr. Noseda and the director Dmitri Tcherniakov, the prince, defeated in battle, humbly begins picking through the rubble of Putivl. As the curtain closes, a seeming cast of thousands comes together in repairing the city brick by brick. "Why do I have to delay until the next generation?" Mr. Noseda asks. "This duty is on my shoulders. There are so many ways to motivate people to support an opera house, to support culture."

The Real Reason School Stayed Open

NEW YORK DAILY NEWS
February 14, 2014

The Real Reason School Stayed Open
by James Panero

Ideology trumps safety and common sense

In Bill de Blasio’s New York, apparently, you do need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

How else to explain the rash decision to keep city schools open during yet another dangerous blizzard, which slammed the city Thursday just as predicted?

When it comes to declaring a snow day, the safety of city parents, children, teachers, school staff and caregivers should come first. But that’s not what happened during this current storm — and the reason is ideological.

Wednesday evening, Schools Chancellor Carmen Fariña declared that schools would stay open despite the “anticipated inclement weather conditions.”

The strange logic of this decision was made even stranger by what de Blasio had said earlier in the day: “Because of its timing and intensity, this storm is going to make both the morning and evening rush hours extremely difficult. If you do not need to drive, you will help yourself and everyone else by staying off the roads.”

So, adults should stay off the roads, but kids need to come to school?

The paradox left families scratching their heads. Judging by the online reaction, it also gave some young de Blasio supporters a bit of buyer’s remorse.

 

“It is pouring snow and de Blasio says no snow day, my 7y old just said ‘I miss Bloomberg,’” school parent Richard Bonneau wrote on Twitter Thursday.

Michael Mulgrew, president of the United Federation of Teachers, had harsher words: “I understand the desire to keep schools open. The only thing that trumps that is safety. Having students, parents and staff traveling in these conditions was unwarranted. It was a mistake to open schools today.” Public Advocate Letitia James agreed.

What they’re not saying is that there’s a philosophical reason why de Blasio and Fariña have now kept school open despite several severe storms.

Fariña believes in the social-justice mission of city schools. This means that for her, schools are the custodians as much as the educators of children.

“My decision is where the kids are safest and the most taken care of, and the answer to that is in schools,” she has argued. When schools are closed, “Many of our kids don’t get a hot lunch and, in many cases breakfast.”

Such logic appears to have led Fariña to declare that schools would be open before waiting to see conditions on the ground. Her indifference to meteorological reality even continued through the storm: “It is absolutely a beautiful day out there right now,” she said Thursday morning.

The problem is that, while some city families may indeed be safest inside school, Fariña put all families in danger by deciding they should attempt to come to school in such hazardous conditions. What’s worse: missing breakfast, or breaking your leg trying to get it?

The street-side danger of heavy snow is no joke. Last week, the video of a man getting knocked down by the spray of a speeding plow in Sheepshead Bay went viral. And Thursday, a 36-year-old pregnant woman was killed by a snowplow in Brooklyn.

There’s a reason why the city’s independent schools, which in the past tied their closings to the city’s decision-making process, now largely make their own calls.

Thursday morning, my wife and I made our own decision to ignore the city’s illogic, and kept our daughter home from nursery school. Statistics show that a majority of public-school families did the same thing: Attendance Thursday was a dismal 44.65%.

Last month, de Blasio said that pedestrian safety would be a top priority of his office. He also renewed his campaign pledge to work for the elimination of traffic-related injuries and deaths through an initiative known Vision Zero.

Unfortunately, when he keeps school open despite serious street hazards, he merely demonstrates zero vision.

Sorry, Writers, but I'm Siding With Google's Robots

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
February 8, 2014

Sorry, Writers, but I'm Siding With Google's Robots
by James Panero

Copyright laws too often stifle the creativity they claim to protect. Time for a 21st-century update.

How much did mention of "copyright" increase in American books published in the second half of the 20th century? The answer is by nearly a factor of three. How about "intellectual property," a neologism designed to equate copyright with real property? By a whopping factor of 70. But what about "public domain," the term for our creative commons where the arts are replanted and renewed? The answer is almost not at all.

We know this thanks to a new program called Ngram, an offshoot of Google Books that analyzes the metadata of what is now the world's most extensive literary index. Ngram gives us a sense of how ideas have circulated over the past 200 years. And when it comes to creative freedom, the numbers don't look good.

Since the 1970s, U.S. terms of copyright have been extended and tightened at the behest of the film, music and publishing industries in a way that hurts how we can enjoy, share, study and repurpose culture. Don't believe me? When was the last time you saw Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech on television in full? As a copyrighted work zealously guarded and monetized by the King estate, it's still rarely shown.

Technology companies have emerged as the key counterweight to the lawyers and lobbyists of the content giants. And that's one reason November's victory for Google Books in Authors Guild v. Google is important.

In 2004, Google announced a partnership with Harvard, Stanford, Oxford, the University of Michigan and the New York Public Library to begin scanning their holdings, turning the printed pages of millions of books into digital grist for its search mill. The robot scanners ran their eyes over everything, from books in the public domain to copyrighted material, which under current law includes most of what's been published since 1923. The results have been a boon to the culture of ideas.

Yet since Google never tracked down the millions of rights-holders of more recent works, the initiative has been embroiled in litigation over copyright infringement since its inception—even though Google has used copyrighted books only for its search index (as opposed to showing the full text). The Authors Guild, one of the plaintiffs against Google, declared the scanning "exploitation" and a "hazard for every author." U.S. Circuit Judge Denny Chin in Manhattan disagreed and dismissed the group's claims after eight years of litigation, declaring Google's project a "transformative" fair use. The Authors Guild has vowed to appeal.

As a writer, I'm siding with the robots. Google Books is far from perfect: Even advocates have worried about the consolidation of scanned information, fearing it will lead to a new digital monopoly. But it brings literature into the online world, exposing a younger generation to books they otherwise would never encounter.

Google Books' legal victory can also be seen as a chink in the armor of ironclad copyright laws. Copyright was never meant to be an indefinite "intellectual property." Article I, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution gives Congress the power "To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries." Much like patents, copyright was a utilitarian measure to protect creative work through a temporary government-granted monopoly.

For the founders, that meant a protective period of 14 years with the right of renewal for another 14. Since then, and especially over the last three decades, the terms have exploded. For self-made work, copyright is now in effect for the life of the author plus 70 years. For work-for-hire, the terms are 95 years after publication or 120 years after creation, whichever is shorter.

In Congress, the terms have tended to have the curious ability to grow just as Mickey Mouse is set to exit copyright, effectively locking down America's cultural patrimony to protect Disney. The "Copyright Term Extension Act" of 1998 is commonly derided as "The Mickey Mouse Protection Act," since it extended Disney's control of the cartoon character for another 20 years. The motion picture industry has argued for even more—a perpetual copyright, or "forever less one day." But would this actually be good for the arts? Numerous studies, such as a 2007 analysis by economist Rufus Pollock at Cambridge, have shown that far shorter terms would maximize creative output.

Considering the Democratic Party's ties to Hollywood, Republicans should be the natural leaders on intellectual property reform. Conservatives such as Reihan Salam, Patrick Ruffini, Timothy P. Carney and Jordan Bloom have argued convincingly for it—but so far the party isn't listening. When Derek Khanna, a young policy analyst, wrote a white paper in 2012 for the Republican Study Committee on rolling back copyright, he was shown the door. "The Republican Party hasn't been pro-innovation," he explained to me. "Copyright reform is a vital component of a more forward-leading platform."

At the start of 2014, Duke Law School's Center for the Study of the Public Domain published a list of books that would be entering the public domain under the laws that existed through 1978. For works ranging from Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" to Dr. Seuss's "Cat in the Hat," "you would be free to translate these books into other languages, create Braille or audio versions for visually impaired readers . . . or adapt them for film." Too bad: Under current law, you can't.

"Poetry can only be made out of other poems; novels out of other novels," wrote the critic Northrop Frye. "Literature shapes itself, and is not shaped externally." The freedom to work with a renewed public domain should be our inheritance—if only we stopped Mickey Mousing around with copyright.