THE BBC has announced this week that, by 2022, half of the composers commissioned by The Proms will be female.

David Pickard, director of the BBC Proms, says the target is a “crucial statement” for gender equality in the arts industry. It’s certainly a laudable goal – and one which has of course been widely welcomed by female composers, if not by female soloists and performers, who aren’t included in the 50 per cent pledge.

Where The Proms leads, will other major arts events follow? Thus far, some 45 festivals have signed up for the gender equality initiative, including the Manchester Jazz Festival, Liverpool International Music Festival and the Aldeburgh Festival.

However, none of the major rock festivals – such as Glastonbury – has signed the pledge; and I assume our own Kendal Calling festival here in Cumbria is among that “none”.

My guess – and I of course stand to be corrected – is that those events that have signed the pledge are subsidised to some degree by Arts Council funding and grants, while those that have not are driven by the harsh reality of having to make a profit.

And therein lies the problem for those who think we should pursue at all costs the lofty and pure goal of gender equality. For we fickle, shallow humans who are driven by the pursuit of pleasure aren’t ultimately interested in gender politics – we’re interested in how good art (and in this case music) actually is, in our own subjective opinion.

In an ideal world for the gender equality brigade, every rock group would presumably comprise a perfect gender balance. Sadly, however, there are only so many Abbas (or Bucks Fizzes) to go round; and the gender-balanced bands will always be far outnumbered by single sex ones – be they the Beatles or Bananarama.

Artistic talent doesn’t really lend itself to equality pledges and goals, I would argue. It just is: you’ve either got it or you haven’t; and I don’t quite understand why we are all expected to sign up to a politically correct purism in order to enjoy our art in a guilt-free way.

I like classical music as much as the next person (which, if I’m being honest is not very much) but I don’t feel the need to rail at the “inequality” that every classical composer I have ever heard of is a male. Nor do I fret unduly over the fact that most great art pre the 20th century was created by males. It may cause feminists today great pain and anger that females were so under-represented in, say, Renaissance art or baroque music – but, just as our colonial past cannot (and, indeed, should not) be airbrushed from history, nor should gender equality be airbrushed into it.

Art – be it music, literature or painting – is ultimately founded upon commercial appeal, and no arbitrary targets or high-minded arguments about diversity and inclusion will alter that.

It may be unfortunate for the feminist cause that some 80 per cent of headline acts at last year’s big music festivals were male; but unfortunately, sometimes demand trumps everything else – and especially when commercial festival organisers don’t have the luxury of relying on taxpayer subsidies to fund lofty gender equality goals.

It will be excellent to see more women being featured prominently at big events such as The Proms; but surely only if the 50 per cent of females (or males for that matter) actually deserve to be showcased there on their merit, not on their gender.


Rise of the Tweet-a-tribute phenomenon

JUST two months into 2018 and it seems that, sadly, it is shaping up to be a year of untimely female celebrity deaths.

Last month Dolores O’Riordan of the rock group The Cranberries died suddenly at the age of 46; and now Emma Chambers, best known as the heroically dim Alice from The Vicar of Dibley , has died aged 53.

Tributes to Ms Chambers have of course poured in. She was hilarious as Alice, portraying the thick-as-mince verger with marvellous comic timing, and making millions of us laugh.

Those tributes are of course heartfelt. But I can’t help feeling that there is something lazy and self-indulgent about the way so many people go about this – particularly celebrities.

There is a Tweet-a-tribute phenomenon which has risen, whereby famous former colleagues of dead celebrities take to social media – and predominantly, Twitter – to emote about the loss of their dear, dear friend, gathering likes and retweets along the way.

By tweeting their “love” for the passed-on person, these famous friends guarantee approval from their armies of social media followers, plus exposure in the national press, for whom Twitter is the default, no-journalistic-effort-required online rent-a-quote provider.

I’m sure their families find some comfort from the famous Tweeters’ sympathy but I hope the celebs find time out of their busy “it’s all about me” schedules to contact them in person – and, more importantly, in private.


Time to drop the bucket lists

TRAVELLERS are being urged to “bin the bucket lists”, as overwhelmed cities and tourist attractions struggle to cope with growing visitor numbers.

The Association of British Travel Agents has said that some of the world’s most vulnerable architectural sites – such as Machu Picchu and the Pyramids – are being damaged by the ever-increasing hordes turning up to take pictures of themselves at these hallowed places.

Explorer and writer Levison Wood has joined the call for modern travellers to be little less sheeplike in their approach to bucket list destinations.

“People get fixated on just ticking things off to say they have been there,” says Mr Wood, while rightly bemoaning the fact that, for increasing numbers of millennials, the number one priority is how “Instaggramable” a destination may be.

Dubrovnik nearly drowns under the number of Game of Thrones fans flocking there to take pictures of the setting for their favourite programme; the Great Wall of China is beseiged by armies of phone-toting philistines; and it’s queuing room only to get to Base Camp of Mount Everest.

And for what? To be able to say “I was there” and to irritate one’s friends and social media followers with smug pictures of oneself grinning inanely at the Taj Mahal. For, no matter how sophisticated technology becomes, one thing will never change: other people’s holiday photos are always boring.