Nick Bailey
ANAM Managing Director (2009 - Mar 2026), Program Manager (2007-2008)
ANAM is a miracle.
That it exists at all, as we know, is a close thing. The outcome of political score-settling and cultural compromise; as an inevitable consequence, fumbling and faltering for its first 15 years; challenged for the mis-steps and yet, against all odds, prevailing; rising phoenix-like out of that mess of media releases and outrage, soaring ever higher, until struck down by a falling ceiling coming from the other direction; and a virus; and now, as that ceiling is put back in place, looking out onto a dazzling future.
But beyond a history, the miracle of a life commitment to a truly analogue activity: horsehair over catgut; air blown down a metal or wooden tube. Often – mistakenly - perceived as being out of step with this digital age, but more necessary to its survival than ever.
The skill acquisition measured in decades, not clicks or weeks or even years. Decades. A notion that leaves the algorithms completely befuddled.
Charting an individual pathway to deliver this (“there is nothing like this on the planet”, the familiar refrain) and often misunderstood for so doing: no degrees, or years-old curricula, or quotas, or accreditable hoops, or tertiary trappings. Just an authentic focus on what is required to be an artist at the 21st century.
ANAM musicians perform in the Seven Words project, October 2009. Photo credit: Jeff Busby.
And further, seemingly out of step with the sector into which it is launching its musicians (ahead? behind?); no focus group driven program choices; no anodyne comfort food; no clickable chords or postable preludes. ANAM embraces complexity and work that demands a repeated hearing: not an escape from, but an engagement with the world. Always talking up to its community. Good music. Searing and searching, sometimes hurting, sometimes nourishing, music. It is always and ever and only about the music.
After 19 years, today is the start of my last week as part of this beautiful analogue community. On the verge of a truly great transfiguration as it prepares to re-occupy the re-imagined South Melbourne Town Hall, ANAM’s music is more needed by this deeply divided world than ever.
If ANAM’s first 30 years have shown us just one thing, it is that if you have right on your side, if you believe hard enough and if you work hard enough, if you fight hard enough, you will win out. Indeed, yes, on reflection, it’s not a miracle at all; just belief and hard work.
I know that ANAM’s generous young musicians, its teachers, administration staff, listeners and supporters all, are made of special stuff. In their 30th year, I wish all strength to their arms, their lungs and souls, and look forward to experiencing the sound of ANAM in 2056.
Christopher Bainbridge (double bass 2015) plays in the corridor of the South Melbourne Town Hall, 2014.
Nick Bailey headshot by Pia Johnson, ANAM