Why it's curtains if city turns into a no-go aria

FEW words from the arts can produce the kind of hair-trigger, knee-jerk response as "opera". Opera doesn't just have contemporary detractors – it has a history of them.

Noel Coward noted that "People are wrong when they say that the opera isn't what it used to be. It is what it used to be. That's what's wrong with it."

Mention of the activity – particularly when mixed with the term "public funding" is likely to produce in many listeners a cauldron of bubbling bile that they are happy to pour over you. The same is true of the term "ballet".

Combining "opera", "ballet" and "public funding" is a fairly straightforward way of asking to be taken out and shot. Much of the prejudice against these artistic undertakings is as relevant as a critique of football that focuses on the hooliganism of the 70s and how boring it is that players are allowed to pass back to their own goalkeeper.

News that Edinburgh is cutting some funding that may result in less people being exposed to opera and ballet in the city sparked activity from two camps – one was rejoicing, the other was angry.

The rejoicing lot were pleased that the funding of these "posh" arts had been cut and the angry lot were furious to discover that they had been receiving public subsidy in the first place. Those with an interest in retaining public funding for either opera or ballet or both must keep their views to themselves and/or travel under cover of darkness.

I'm not a big fan of either myself. It's not that I've got anything against British Airways adverts and tubby blokes being on television, it's just that opera doesn't do it for me. I never quite got conkers either.

And while no-one could fail to admire what ballet can do for the body, it's not a form of entertainment that many people can relate to – a Hadrian's Wall of perception that any art form involving super-fit people behaving in aesthetic union is going to encounter in Scotland.

Unfortunately, for those – and that might include me – who would see opera and ballet removed from this city's funding menu, there is one important factor that needs to be taken into account. This is Edinburgh.

Correct me if I am wrong, but if memory serves me, this city has built an enviable reputation as one of the world's artistic capitals.

Edinburgh earns untold millions every year through this reputation – and as anyone who ever thought it would be good to have Heather Mills as their PR spokesperson can tell you, reputations are slow to build and quick to lose.

I have no idea how much our reputation is worth but I would hope that there is someone in both the city chambers and our business community who would know.

Furthermore I find it difficult to believe that word that Edinburgh no longer has opera and ballet on its annual, indigenous calendar of artistic activities would be a great leap forward for those seeking to ensure that the wealth generated by art-inspired tourism continues to grow.

It's easy to make cheap jibes – take it from an expert – about overweight women bawling arias and grown adults prancing round a stage; easier still to become angry when funding is being cut from "essential" education and health provisions.

But an examination of where all the money comes from to pay for this city's operations might make some of us abruptly more appreciative of fat ladies singing and men in tights.

Derek's a disgrace
Perhaps you've heard of Derek Fyvie. He's a Donald Trump figure who – while living in subsidised housing association accommodation – has been trading buy-to-let properties in Edinburgh like a man who has both the top hat AND the wee dug from the Monopoly set. This is infuriating because it turns out that Mr Fyvie isn't even an MSP.

Doesn't he know that it's only MSPs who are allowed to use public funds to speculate in the property business. What next? Does Mr Fyvie want the public to pay for a subsidised restaurant or bar on one of his apparently many premises? It's a disgrace.

What a Sally on
As Edinburgh Christians everywhere will know and be thankful, the Salvation Army intends to open a new drop-in centre on Clerk Street. Exciting as this news is, it hardly makes up for the Odeon closing. Sadly the proposal to help those less fortunate has been criticised by – among others – the local machine "casino".

The idea that someone who operates a slot casino has the effrontery to criticise anyone for cheapening a neighbourhood is most amusing. Even an abattoir would be preferable to one of those tawdry holes of seeping iniquity.