Opera House built thanks to Ordinary Joe

Tom Jellett

LOCATED between the gleaming white tiled shells that billow from the base of the Sydney Opera House is a small bronze plaque sitting on a concrete pedestal. It recognises that without the vision and tenacity of former NSW Labor premier Joe Cahill, Sydney would not have such a magnificent building that befits the stunning harbour it overlooks.

"If we in our lifetime did nothing more than express our love of the arts by providing a building worthy of them," the inscription recalls Cahill saying, "even when names are forgotten, the building will always remain as a testimony to what was done in the year 1954 by a group of citizens for the encouragement of talent and culture."

Forty years after the opening of our greatest public building, the critical role of the Irish Catholic working class politician who ensured that Sydney got its opera house is at risk of being forgotten.

Moreover, the construction of the Opera House and the continued public support for it underscores Cahill's belief that all Australians, no matter their background, should have the opportunity to enjoy the arts.

Despite the critics, including some at the edges of Cahill's beloved Labor Party, more and more Australians are flocking to the harbourside building, particularly families and children.

More than eight million people visit the Opera House each year. About 1.4 million watched one of the 1800 performances, ranging from music and dance to theatre and talks, in the past year.

Live streaming of popular music concerts has attracted more than two million views over the past two years.

Last week, Deloitte released a report showing that the Opera House contributes $775 million each year to the national economy. The net "cultural worth" of the building is estimated to be $4.6 billion, given its impact on tourism and entertainment. According to foreigners, the iconic building is more recognisable as a brand than Australia itself.

It well and truly pays for itself, and continues to pay a cultural dividend to the nation, and indeed the world. The building, with its unique and distinctive design by Danish architect Jorn Utzon, has also encouraged thousands, if not millions, to pursue a valuable career as a performing artist.

Yet none of this would be possible without Cahill waging a battle within his own party to build the Opera House, or indeed winning over a sceptical public and a conservative political opposition.

Soon after Eugene Goossens arrived in Australia in 1947 to conduct the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, he realised that Sydney needed an opera house to stage major cultural events.

After Cahill became premier in 1952, Goossens convinced him to back his cause.

Cahill soon became the leading advocate for a Sydney opera house. In 1954, he argued it would help "to develop and mould a better, more enlightened community".

He won over his cabinet. In 1955, Bennelong Point was chosen as the location. And in January 1957, it was announced that Utzon had won the international design competition.

But all was not well within Labor. Some believed "homes, not opera houses" is what a Labor government should be pouring money into. Why should a Labor government fund a building that Labor voters were unlikely to frequent?

After a heated debate in the Labor caucus in May 1957, a motion supporting the project passed by just 24 votes to 17.

Another motion opposing construction was scheduled for June. There was talk of scuttling the project. Cahill said the Labor conference would have the final say.

When Cahill stood on the stage of the Sydney Town Hall on a Saturday night in June 1957, he knew that his speech would determine whether or not the Sydney Opera House would be built. Delegates were edgy. Some were spoiling for a fight.

Cahill said Labor "can decide to ignore the arts and sciences" but "that is not the Labor way of doing things". He focused on the cost of the project, promising it "would make not even a perceptible ripple on our financial ocean". Labor would deliver "a great cultural centre" and still fund homes for those who needed it.

While at least one delegate captured the mood of some when he argued that opera houses were only for "hoity-toity people", Cahill had won majority support. The Opera House would be built.

As one who has taken his own children to countless events - musical productions, story times and theatre - I have seen firsthand how the Opera House helps to foster imagination and creativity in the young minds of the next generation.

Cahill was not a devotee of the arts or a lover of architecture. In fact, he had probably never seen an opera, a ballet or a symphony. He was, like all politicians, looking for a monument to mark his place in history. And he had courage. But he never lived to see the Opera House completed. He died of a heart attack in 1959.

However, Cahill knew what it would look like. David Clune, the NSW parliament's historian, told this columnist what the down-to-earth Cahill, born in 1891, thought of Utzon's striking architectural design.

In mid-1957, Sydney lord mayor Harry Jensen invited Cahill to the Town Hall to take a peek at the model before it was unveiled to the public. (Until then, only Utzon's drawings had been made public.) As the cover was pulled off the model, Cahill turned to Jensen and asked, "Is this some kind of joke?"

No, it is not a joke. It is Australia's greatest building and a fitting monument to Cahill's ambition for "a great cultural centre" that would be the envy of the modern world. Happy birthday.