NZ Musician
2002 (Vol: 10, No: 5)

By Jane Fraser Jones

A nation can be rich in every material sense, but, if it fails to provide for and nurture creative expression, it is impoverished in immeasurable ways." - Helen Clark, Prime Minister.

With the PM herself slotting the Arts portfolio into her briefcase in 1999, those words were hopefully going to comprise more than just lip service - real promises and real initiatives were going to push arts and music to the fore among the populace and media.

On the surface at least, the Government is delivering with degrees of success. At a national and global level, Kiwi popular music seems to be enjoying a period rich in recognition, respect and even record sales. NZ musicians are making a racket overseas and playing their way into 'we set the trends and everyone follows' magazines like Britain's The Face.

But trip onto less travelled paths, away from the money-spinning acts, the acclaimed talent and bands who have 'made it', and sadly you'll still find little players in the political game who are not so fond or nurturing of live music, and as a result 'making it' in the music world is becoming trickier despite all that.
Why? There's too much damn noise.

Before that mid-afternoon set at the BDO, before those gigs in the Viper Room, comes the hard yards in the small venues which have been the making of pretty much all NZ's top bands. The grassroots of Kiwi music; pubs, clubs and dedicated live music venues. It's not glamorous stuff, it's often not cash lucrative, it's local not national and local government isn't quite so ready to step in with support.

Karen q Temple has provided a platform for a diverse mix of original musicians for seven years in her upper Queen Street venue, the Temple. Since 1996 though she has spent a ridiculous number of hours battling the noise control division of the Auckland City Council and the laws and methods it uses to turn down the sound on local musicians.

"What happens is that Armourguard contractors stand at the door, decide if it's too loud or not, and if they think it's too loud they hand over a noise abatement notice," says Karen.

"Quite often they hand it to the nearest person they see - a member of the public or a band member. There's no attempt to give it to the bar manager or owner of the establishment."

It's not an ideal situation: security heavies using no device - other than their own ears - to make a decision which affects the enjoyment of the audience and the livelihood of bands, staff and even more vitally, the venue. Yet it's a scenario played out in bars throughout the country on a weekly, if not daily, basis.

Her dissatisfaction led, as Karen puts it, to "...a lot of to-ing and fro-ing with Council" culminating with an agreement reached in May 2001, whereby noise complaints directed at the Temple would be dealt with by a qualified environmental health officer.

"They would come with a meter to do a noise reading. If we were over, we'd turn the band down, close the windows... we'd get it below the limit then carry on with the show," she says.

The arrangement didn't go as planned, though. Less than a month later, a slip-up at the Council's call centre resulted in seven Armourguard and about 14 police officers raiding the Temple.

"They arrested people, they assaulted people, they were generally extremely aggressive. They confiscated about $10,000 worth of equipment. People were arrested who had done nothing wrong."

People who had done nothing except create and/or support NZ music. "They were later found not guilty, after stress and thousands of dollars of legal fees and God knows what else," Karen finishes.

Although Auckland City Council admitted they had made a mistake, there was no attempt at making financial reparations for the injured parties. A year on, Karen says the raid, which blew the noise control issue out of the water, has led to the original agreement being "... embedded with utmost undertaking from Council."

But Auckland City still send environmental health officers only to the Temple. Other venues with noise complaints made against them remain at the mercy of the Council's contracted security guards, a move that Karen describes as "... extremely irresponsible."

Jacqueline McDougall, of the Auckland City Council, says security guards undergo noise control training every six months. She does add, "... 'excessive noise' is a subjective assessment and is a short term solution to noise control."

In Wellington, Level 1, 171 Cuba Street has been a live music venue since the early 1960s, when it opened under the guise of Ali Babas. For the past four years, it has been known as Indigo and, says proprietor Steve Upton, dogged by noise complaints "... since day one."

Like the Temple, Indigo experienced an incident that distilled the issue of the damaging effect of noise control.

In 1998, the venue was shut down during a performance by Bailterspace, which Upton says gave rise to a barrage of negative publicity, and raised questions among both artists and the public at large about the credibility of Indigo. To be doubted by the community you support is damaging in myriad intangible ways, but to be taken to the Environment Court and slapped with a proviso of financially crippling compliance renovations rams the problem home.

Numerous other venues around NZ are suffering too. The Kings Arms in Auckland, a hotel for 130 years and the only inner city pub venue for much of the last decade, resorted, under threat, to placing shipping containers (rented at $900 a month) around the premises, and later erecting a sound wall at a cost of over $30,000, after Council "... read the riot act," according to owner Maureen Gordon. Wellington's Bar Bodega has moved into premises soundproofed to the hilt, owner Francis McInnes dedicating $20,000 towards avoiding noise complaints. In the South Island, both Christchurch's Dux de Lux and Dunedin's Arc Café have lost money, patrons, and a lot of time addressing the noise issue.

How this situation arose to strangle vital venues can be traced to several pieces of legislation. The Resource Management Act (RMA) defines excessive noise as "... any noise that is under human control and of such nature as to reasonably interfere with the peace, comfort and convenience of any person."
It does not distinguish between noise emitted from private homes or a venue. "They're quite inappropriate provisions and very vague," says Karen q Temple.
The noise limit, which defines 'excessive noise', is also set at an unrealistically low 55 decibels. Exactly how loud is that?

"If you took a reading now, we'd be around 55 decibels, just with conversation," laughs Karen during our interview.

The 55db level was set in line with the World Health Organisation's guidelines for ambient noise, says McDougall, and applied to some parts of the central city to protect the long-established historical residential areas of Auckland.

What relevance does that have to a city venue where the ambient street noise, counters Karen, hovers around 60 - 65 decibels, and, she argues, regularly peaks at about 80 db?

McDougall says Council is currently working with the police and the LTSA to reduce problem-causing traffic noise.

There is slightly more leeway for a venue, as opposed to a residence in Wellington, thinks Steve Upton. "I live very close to Indigo and other bars, and it is the sound of traffic, loud pedestrians and street cleaners that are the most disturbing. This is because my apartment, like many others in the central city, is poorly insulated," says Upton.

Which brings us to the Building Code and the influx of chic inner-city apartments for nu-urbanites. Most of these are not well soundproofed, resulting in residents finding (too late) the hustle and bustle of the city isn't much of a lullaby when they try to go to sleep.

While property developers are given recommendations, Upton says there needs to be some hard and fast legislation in place. "Just simple things, like Batts and hush glass, but they're not forced to."

Ultimately, these laws put the onus of controlling noise emission squarely on the shoulders of venue owners.

There is also another piece of Council paper, which varies from city to city, but is generally called an Arts Agenda, and in some respects is at odds with the RMA.

"It says things like it wants Auckland to be a lively and vibrant place, the cultural centre of the Pacific," says Karen.

Absolutely, Positively Wellington is also supposed to be the 'arts capital' of the country - what do you do, then, when you have a 'lively and vibrant' venue that gets punished for being so?

"There's nothing in the Arts Agenda that says '... open a venue and stuff your neighbours'", says Jacqueline McDougall.

What if the venue was there first? The Kings Arms was built when it had very few neighbours. McDougall says the venue still had to complete renovations as conditions had been placed upon them and the Kings Arms is now compliant with Council's by-laws. Maureen Gordon says her venue has become about 95% compliant, but only after a massive expenditure.

So it's a pretty thorny situation, one seemingly impossible for venue owners to emerge victorious from. The result is a nation of already overworked venue owners having to fight their local bodies for the right to nurture NZ music.

In addition to working 80-plus hours per week, people like Karen q Temple and Upton petition their city councils, make submissions to organisations like the NZMIC, and talk to their MPs. In Auckland, Karen has been spearheading the Venues Association, a group of venue owners who meet once a month to troubleshoot and decide how they can collectively engage with Council over the noise control issue. Karen says she would like to see it become a national network but it remains to be seen how effective a lobbying and support group this will become.

It's a lot of unpaid hours and positive results are slow coming - why do venue owners even bother?

"For the love of it," says Upton, who estimates he spends 5 - 10 hours per week on compliance issues.

"Everything I've worked hard for could be taken away from me like that," says Karen. "We're all good people who believe strongly in what we do."
The conflict between local body bylaws and central government initiatives to support the arts has spawned a feud that Karen believes could wipe out live music venues if it continues on the track it's headed. She expresses confidence such a dire prophecy won't come to fruition, however.

Long time music industry lobbyist Arthur Baysting took the opportunity of the launch of the America's Cup Music Showcase recently to publicly acquaint media and invited guests, including the Prime Minister, of what he sees as an issue that is increasingly threatening the value of Kiwi music support initiatives the PM has herself championed. What good to spend public money bringing music-minded tourists (in this case music industry specialists) to this country if they can't actually go out and see live music happening within the city environs?
"We need a change in the law so grumpy individuals don't have the power to shut down live venues through bizarre noise control regulations." says Baysting.

Karen is hoping that within five years changes to the Resource Management Act and Building Code will give venues sturdier legs to stand on. "Awareness is starting to happen. I've had communication with Judith Tizard, my MP, and she's fully aware of the problem and seems to be sympathetic. Real action will come."

Steve Upton has a similar wish list. He too wants the RMA and Building Code tightened up so the obligation of noise control falls more evenly between the source and destination of noise. They both believe creating well-managed entertainment or protection zones with higher noise emission levels would benefit venues and give potential city-dwellers clear paradigms about where and where not to set up house.

They, and the live music venue owners around NZ, need "... financial support and recognition as a cornerstone in the development of a strong national music industry and culture," says Upton.

Which is really what Helen Clark seeks. Her attitude needs to filter down the local body politicians, and be adopted as a means of supporting both musicians and those who provide a physical window onto NZ's music scene.
Live music lovers, band members, venue owners - you can help out. Go to www.temple.co.nz and sign the noise control petition.

Currently the NZMIC is collecting information to help it advocate on behalf of musicians and would like to hear from any venues that have had problems in running live music.

Anyone with feedback can contact Tom Clark by email: tom@nzmusic.org.nz