各個大都會并非生而平等

司馬勤

如果用現(xiàn)場演出的尺度來衡量，這規(guī)模真算不上什么。十幾位大都會歌劇院合唱團(tuán)團(tuán)員在大都會藝術(shù)博物館大門前的石階上演唱三首節(jié)日歌曲，表演時長總共只不過15分鐘。說實話，這根本算不上是音樂會，更像是一場新聞發(fā)布會。

這場演出由NYCNext（紐約市未來）策劃主導(dǎo)。這個剛剛嶄露頭角的志愿團(tuán)體，因為如今的時局，這幫人有的是空閑時間。他們專門安排同樣有著大把空閑時間的職業(yè)演員或歌手走到一起，目的是自發(fā)地為紐約市各個地區(qū)的群眾帶來一些歡樂。除了佩戴著口罩面罩，以及保持社交距離外，這個情景令我聯(lián)想起1930年代的好萊塢歌舞電影中的一幕——朱迪·加蘭（Judy Garland）與米奇·魯尼（Mickey Rooney）在銀幕上一起喊道：“來，讓我們演一場好戲吧！”

不過，這樣的節(jié)日畫面看起來歡騰喜慶，表層之下的現(xiàn)實背景卻灰暗得多。今年年初因為新冠病毒疫情的影響，兩種現(xiàn)象顯露了出來：1.不同國家或地區(qū)的封鎖或禁閉措施產(chǎn)生了不同的局勢和影響；2.本來已存在的不平等與其他社會矛盾，因為時勢所迫，變得更為尖銳。今年春天大都會藝術(shù)博物館宣布臨時關(guān)閉，6個月后終于重開大門，但每天對入場的觀眾進(jìn)行限流。大都會歌劇院同樣于3月中旬被迫關(guān)門，此后多次宣告將要重新開演的消息，可惜改了又改。歌劇院是否真的會按照目前的計劃在2021年9月重新開張，現(xiàn)在還言之過早。我在欣賞大都會歌劇院合唱團(tuán)如糖漿般甜膩的歌聲時，心里苦樂參半——這場小演出，是歌手們9個多月來第一次在一起演出——甚至可能是他們第一次聚首。

為什么一個大都會（博物館）可以重開，而另一個（大都會歌劇院）還是關(guān)著門呢？請看上文列出的現(xiàn)象1與2。

我們先從宏觀角度出發(fā)。基本上，不同行業(yè)的勞資雙方可以分為三類：“必要性”工作者無論面對何等疫情風(fēng)險還是必須上班；少數(shù)幸運的員工可以保住工作崗位并留在家里辦公；以及疫情促使整個行業(yè)叫停的最后一類——文藝界、餐飲業(yè)以及任何與旅游有關(guān)的人士都屬于這一類。

在深究第2點之后，問題的實質(zhì)就會浮現(xiàn)出來?？墒?，盡管在深受其害的行業(yè)里，也不是人人面臨同樣的危機。某些機構(gòu)一早就做好了資金儲備（即便沒有儲備，也可以找到善長人翁籌募急用款）；其他的一些機構(gòu)卻一點額外資金都沒有，一個項目制作完畢以后，才會從頭策劃下一個項目。某些機構(gòu)擁有固定甚至死板的操作模式；另一些公司的工作機制卻富有彈性。如今，大都會藝術(shù)博物館起碼可以提供與以往相接近的訪客體驗（甚至可以說比疫情前有所改進(jìn)，因為參觀者總數(shù)少了，每一位訪客可以更從容地欣賞藝術(shù)品）。大都會歌劇院卻仍然大門緊閉——因為林肯中心才是劇院的真正業(yè)主——就算歌劇院在如今的疫情防控下可以再次向公眾開放，劇院方也必須調(diào)整觀賞歌劇演出的各個細(xì)節(jié)。

歌劇院跟博物館不同。博物館可以同時陳設(shè)多個展覽，而大都會歌劇院幾乎每一晚都要調(diào)換布景與制作。還有，一個人在偌大的博物館里溜達(dá)或是在觀眾席就座兩個小時，接觸到病毒的風(fēng)險也有很大的差別。就算觀眾在劇院里的座位根據(jù)防疫指引有所分隔，還要考慮到中場休息觀眾們在座位席外交叉感染的可能性。舞臺制作也必須修改一番，配備符合防疫要求的措施，保障演員與后臺工作人員的安全。我猜，現(xiàn)成的制作之中，很少有作品可以過得了這關(guān)。

因此，世界上的所謂“一視同仁”“待遇平等”，純屬虛言。當(dāng)政府下令禁止餐廳提供堂食時，那些能夠有效地改造廚房而將業(yè)務(wù)重心轉(zhuǎn)移到外賣與打包的商戶，生意還支撐得住。大都會也跟風(fēng)——盡管“大堂關(guān)閉”不能提供歌劇的“堂食”，改為在線上送上免費的高清“每晚歌劇直播”，令大都會變成演藝“送餐”的大贏家。（可惜到了今天，大都會已經(jīng)把“菜單”重復(fù)又重復(fù)了很多遍，送上的劇目都是吃過幾遍了的“菜式”。）

早在今年春末，當(dāng)?shù)谝徊ㄒ咔槊菜破届o下來的時候，美國各地的餐飲界都做出同一個結(jié)論：關(guān)閉廚房然后再重現(xiàn)復(fù)工，似乎大家可以熬過來。但如果再次遇上封城或禁閉令，餐飲業(yè)只有死路一條。紐約的餐飲業(yè)現(xiàn)在正面臨著第二波禁閉令，我們只能靜待后續(xù)的發(fā)展。

在紐約，文化行業(yè)沒有遇上以上的問題。城里三分之二的博物館已經(jīng)重新開放，但古典音樂場地卻依舊空空如也——在馬德里、米蘭，甚至美國較小的城市里，交響樂團(tuán)與歌劇院還能找到機會現(xiàn)場演出。紐約的博物館現(xiàn)在停滯于允許較正常態(tài)勢下四分之一訪客的容量，讓我不禁懷疑它們可以維持多久。演藝團(tuán)體卻開始采取嚴(yán)苛的措施。紐約愛樂樂團(tuán)的樂手們自5月份開始減薪，每月只能領(lǐng)到基本收入的75%。樂手最近更同意于未來3年再減薪25%。大都會歌劇院的舞臺管理人員（包括布景、道具、燈光）已經(jīng)開始制作2021–2022演出季的6個新劇目的布景，在與歌劇院商議新一輪合約時，因為歌劇院要求大部分員工同意減薪30%，雙方談判繼而告吹。

現(xiàn)在我們面臨一個僵局：代表藝術(shù)家的工會擔(dān)心，即使是新冠疫情過后，經(jīng)濟開始復(fù)蘇，但減薪協(xié)議仍然生效；而演藝團(tuán)體的領(lǐng)導(dǎo)一直埋怨就算人們打敗了新冠病毒，但票房收入還需要很多年才能回復(fù)至從前的水平。我猜，他們說得都對。

機構(gòu)與行業(yè)可能并不都是平等的，但它們卻息息相關(guān)。我們不能對特定經(jīng)濟領(lǐng)域做出可靠預(yù)測的一個原因是它們并不存在于真空中。無論疫苗成功與否，現(xiàn)場演出必須等到餐飲業(yè)與旅游業(yè)以及其他娛樂行業(yè)穩(wěn)定以后才可能得以復(fù)蘇。一個健康的大都會歌劇院需要百老匯。而百老匯需要旅游業(yè)。說真的，“吃飯看戲”，沒有飯吃怎么看戲？

所以，我在一個寒冷的周三清早起床，徒步至大都會藝術(shù)博物館。此前幾個小時，大都會歌劇院宣告舞臺管理人員停工——類似于罷工的停工，是院方發(fā)起不容許員工繼續(xù)工作——歌劇院也強調(diào)，院方正在跟樂團(tuán)與合唱團(tuán)洽商，希望他們同意類似的減薪計劃。很有可能，那些在博物館石階上歡聚一堂興高采烈的歌唱家們，在不久的將來會面臨失業(yè)。

可是在那段音樂蕩漾的15分鐘里，一切都無關(guān)緊要了。這個早上舉行的慶祝活動讓合唱團(tuán)員可以在節(jié)日氣氛下重逢，也為過路的民眾帶來短暫的節(jié)慶娛樂。正如我所說，這算不上是什么正規(guī)演出，但是，在此時，能夠遇上現(xiàn)場演出，我們已經(jīng)很滿足了。

As live performances go， it wasnt much. A dozen singers from the Metropolitan Opera Chorus gathered on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a three-song， 15-minute set of holiday music. Truth be told， it was really more of a press event than an actual concert.

The initiative came from NYCNext， an upstart organization of volunteers with lots of extra time now on their hands who specialize in gathering performers with lots of extra time now on their hands and spreading spontaneous cheer around New York. It all sounds like something from 1930s Hollywood， with Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney crying， “Hey， lets put on a show.” Except with surgical masks and social distance.

Underneath the cheery holiday portrait， though， was a starker background. From the beginning of this years Covid pandemic， observers have noted two things： （1） that both the virus and the resulting lockdowns have affected different people differently； and （2） that the worst problems have simply reinforced inequalities and other troubles that were already present. The Met Museum， its doors shuttered for more than six months this year， is now reopened for a limited number of visitors each day. The Met Opera， which likewise closed in mid-March， has already announced and cancelled a couple of reopenings. Whether the Opera House will really open again in September 2021 as currently planned remains to be seen. Beneath the syrupy joy of hearing the Met Chorus was the bittersweet realization that this was the first time the singers had performed together—perhaps even seen each other in person—in nearly nine months.

So why is one Met open and not the other？ See （1） and （2） above.

Lets start with the big picture. There are essentially three categories of companies and employees out there： “essential” workers who need to show up for work regardless of the health concerns， the lucky few who still have jobs but can work from home， and people whose entire world has shut down completely. In that last camp we find cultural workers， many restaurants and pretty much anyone in the travel industry.

The problem becomes clearer when we get to（2）. Even within those troubled industries， not all members are in the same position. Some have cash reserves （or lacking that， access to big donors）； others exist from production to production. Some have a firm， inflexible model； others are much more limber. The Met Museum can， at least for now， offer essentially the same experience as before （arguably even better， since smaller crowds means easier access to the artworks）. The Met Opera House is still closed—Lincoln Center holds the keys to the building—but even if the company could reopen to the public， everything about the operagoing experience would have to be retooled.

Unlike a museum， which has all its exhibitions up at the same time， the Met changes its productions nightly. Also， theres a big difference in personal exposure between walking through a museum and sitting in a seat for two hours. Even if audiences are carefully spaced in the hall theres still intermission mingling to contend with. Stage productions， too， would need to conform to Covid protocols for performers and backstage workers， and few existing productions would make the cut.

Again， not all institutions are created equal. When indoor dining was first banned， the restaurants that could convert their kitchens efficiently for takeout and delivery did a brisk business. The Met， its main dining room closed， seemed to follow suit with free HD streams each night， cornering the operatic market in home delivery. （By now， though， the Met has run through its menu a couple of times and is now serving the same meals again and again.）

Back in late spring， as the first Covid wave was calming down， restauranteurs around the US seemed to be in agreement： They could close and reopen their kitchen once， but shutting down again would effectively kill their business. Now that indoor dining in New York has been suspended a second time， well see that premise put to the test.

In New York， the cultural sector has not had to deal with that particular problem. The two-thirds of museums that have reopened are still open， but as far as classical music is concerned， the city—unlike Madrid， Milan or even smaller US cities where orchestras and opera companies have found ways to perform live—remains closed. While museums remain in a holding pattern， wondering how long they can survive with 25 percent occupancy， performing arts organizations have started taking drastic measures. Musicians at the New York Philharmonic， who had been receiving 75 percent of their base pay since May， agreed to a 25 percent pay cut for the next three years. At the Met， where some stagehands were already building the sets for six new productions in the 2021–22 season， negotiations over a new contract broke down over the companys demands for a 30 percent salary reduction for many of its employees.

Hence the impasse： artist unions fear that these reductions could long outlast the Covid pandemic； companies complain that that even when the virus retreats it will take years for box-office income to return to pre-pandemic levels. Both are probably right.

Institutions and industries may not all be equal， but theyve become tremendously interrelated. One reason we cant make reliable predictions about particular segments of the economy is that they dont exist in a vacuum. Vaccine or not， live performances wont come back until we have stability in the restaurant and travel industries， as well as other entertainment sectors. A healthy Met will need Broadway. Broadway needs tourism. And really， what is “dinner and a show” without dinner？

So that， essentially， is how I happened to get up early and make it to the Met Museum on a chilly Wednesday morning. A few hours earlier， news had broken that the battle with Met stagehands had wound up in an employee lockout—a work stoppage similar to a labor strike， but instead initiated by management—and that the company was seeking similar concessions from orchestra players and， yes， members of the chorus. There was a very real possibility that the singers gathered so happily on the museum steps would soon no longer have a job.

But for those 15 minutes， none of that mattered. The morning festivity was as much of a holiday reunion for the singers as it was a brief holiday diversion for passersby. As I said， it wasnt much of a concert， but at this point well all take what we can get.