The Naked City: The Unstoppable Beast of Bureaucracy!

‘Bureaucracy’ is a word that instils fear, frustration and bewilderment in most of us, especially if you are on the wrong end of its relentless jackboot. Take the recent City Of Sydney edict that the much loved Tap Gallery in Darlinghurst no longer continue as a performance space, despite the fact that they’d been operating since 1993 as a community arts centre – and supposedly with the Council’s blessing.

Elsewhere in other precincts, in particular the inner west, we have seen similar acts of heartless enforcement where numerous community style arts spaces and artists studios have been told to shut up shop and abide by a string of highly punitive council compliance orders. Artists and musicians have been told they can no longer live in their warehouse or factory style studios and pop up music venues have been silenced before even the first note is sounded.

Contrast the enthusiasm with which council bureaucrats target these long running arts spaces with their seeming inability to control the plague of slum landlords cramming students, backpackers and itinerant workers into cockroach infested boarding houses, multi partioned CBD apartments and Mad Max like container and caravan compounds such as that discovered (while on fire) behind a factory in Alexandria in July of this year.

You would be forgiven for thinking that the modus operandi of the council compliance ‘police’ is to hit the vulnerable and the exposed first, i.e. the arts spaces and ‘illegal venues’ and worry about the 58 people living in an Ultimo boarding house licensed only as a single dwelling, much later. Ironically it’s not council diligence that uncovers these accommodation nightmares in the first place. More than often it’s publications like this and TV exposes that first draw attention to these flagrant breaches of housing regulations.

On the other hand there is seldom a complaint on the part of the community at large as to the existence of the various multi use arts spaces and many have enjoyed long running de facto support from a number of councils themselves. Nevertheless, in recent months, we have seen an onslaught of bureaucratic compliance, where many of these spaces have been targeted, along with so called ‘legitimate’ venues such as small bars and restaurants, which have all felt the monetary sting of petty council penalties.

Whether we will ever see local councils take a more conciliatory approach and work with these spaces and venues to overcome problems of compliance remains to be seen. We hate to quote somebody like the disgraced Richard Nixon but his much repeated statement that “any change is resisted because bureaucrats have a vested interest in the chaos in which they exist” seems horribly apt when applied to the current situation. Despite the good intentions of many councillors and council employees in their support of the arts and live music, it seems the faceless and decidedly humourless bureaucrats inside these administrations have the ultimate say.

While councils throw money at encouraging the arts and live music, and in many cases with positive results, history has shown us that original and innovative art and music is often generated completely devoid of subsidy or cultural benevolence. It springs from grass roots movements within the community at large and is often fostered by the very arts and performance spaces that councils now seem intent on closing down.

If you are flabbergasted by the random enforcement of council compliance that seemingly allows slum landlords to flourish and forces arts spaces to close, then consider this somewhat perplexing historical anecdote. Remember Sydney’s infamous Phoenician Club in Ultimo, which operated during the early 90s as one of the city’s most popular rock and dance music venues and was temporarily closed in 1995 after the drug death of Anna Woods following a rave party. Despite restrictions imposed over the years as regards capacity, the dilapidated venue with PAs often blocking the fire exits, was widely regarded by many punters as a potential and lethal firetrap. The running joke was “if you’re off to the Phoenician tonight make sure you’re wearing asbestos underwear”. Oh, and who actually owned the shambles of a building that housed the club? If memory serves us right it was the City Of Sydney Council. Go figure!