Early this year London was the scene of a kind of séance, with a circle of theatrical mandarins chanting “Money, money, money, MORE MONEY ” This invocation raised the spirit of William Blake, who once snarled, “Where any view of money exists, Art cannot be carried on, but War only.” This did not mean that money was irrelevant to the artist; quite the contrary. Financially hag-ridden himself, Blake knew well enough that the artist works best when he does not have to waste his sap worrying about the metabolic struggle of getting and spending.

This is of course the best justification for subsidizing theater in the Welfare State, but—the British being what they are, in practice it is not so straightforward as that. These pecuniary bellowings occur each midwinter because of what the Timescalls a balance of terror among the clients of the Arts Council. It stems from the fact that recipients of State largesse in the theater are not grant-funded; they are simply guaranteed against loss up to a certain point. This means strait budgets plus loud and very public pleas for wider limits, with dire prophecies of disaster if these are not forthcoming. The biggest clients usually have the strongest lungs in this chorus, and this year it was Sir Peter Hall of the National Theatre who out-bleated all the rest. When the Greater London Council also threatened to hold back its share of cash help for the National, the lamentations of Sir Peter redoubled