My recommendation was that this obligation cease and Opera Australia reduce its footprint to seasons at the Sydney Opera House which, after all, is one of the world’s most famous buildings and happens to be (kind of, among other things) an opera house. The opera on the harbour could continue but honestly should do so only if the repertoire was there to sustain interest. I have been away from Australia for many years but Guys & Dolls on the harbour? Seriously? What’s the point?

The federal funding for the national company should be proportionally reduced and redistributed to the state-based companies and also to one of the Melbourne companies, who all do fine work as it happens. If cutting Melbourne’s apron strings was long past due then, it’s simply irrational today.

I then turned my mind to the financial challenges that were coming thick and fast. The company had an impressive property portfolio thanks to previous administrations. However, having such non-liquid assets tied up was not helping the day-to-day operations of the company. I recommended rethinking the Surry Hills headquarters. Perhaps a joint venture could be explored with our neighbour – Belvoir Street Theatre – which owned an adjacent building. We could partner with a developer to redesign the whole (large downtown) site to accommodate rehearsal rooms, administration offices and apartments above: both literally and figuratively be that “beacon on the hill” rightly expected of a supposedly national flagship performing arts company. The notion of having scenery and costume manufacture in such a plum location made no sense at all.

This was especially odd when the company already owned a large scenery storage warehouse in Alexandria which could be fitted out to accommodate manufacturing functions. It could also have easily been possible to offload the Alexandria site and move both manufacturing and storage to a regional base. The Royal Opera House in London builds productions in the Thames estuary and stores productions in Wales, for example.

Frankly, given the dire financial position revealed by Opera Australia’s most recent set of accounts, it insults artists, crew and remaining donors for the company to maintain its obdurate and irrational resistance to leveraging for survival, an asset of the magnitude as the company possesses.

And finally to the conundrum of the musical. In my early days, Opera Australia would regularly present Gilbert & Sullivan and Viennese operettas to large, enthusiastic audiences. These productions were cost-effective, a great way to use the chorus and resident principal artists and terrific for the bottom line. Of course, tastes change and the company had to move on. The introduction of large-scale musicals as a co-production with a commercial producer was, for a while, a sensible way to mitigate the rising costs of main-stage opera and a great boost to the box office.

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There were, though, a number of challenges, even in the good old days of my time. Supply of venues was an annual challenge. Sydney and Melbourne were certain; Perth and Adelaide were generally not financially sensible; and Brisbane was possible only should the Queensland Performing Arts Centre be interested in the title. Without a substantial length of season, the cost base made the musical unviable. There was always a concern, as with Handa Opera on the Harbour, that we would run out of titles. Fast forward to now and the company is presenting the aforementioned Guys & Dolls on the harbour and is licking its wounds from a disastrous season of Sunset Boulevard. It’s crazy.

The annual musical became the artistic heroin of the company. We knew it was not really what we were supposed to be doing (we were meant to be an opera company, after all) and we were not confident of our supply, but without it, we would be in greater trouble.

As it happened, by the time I left the company to return to London, we were presenting as many performances of the national season of My Fair Lady as all of the main-stage operas combined – surely not a sustainable construct. More importantly, this addiction to musicals dangerously deprecated the company’s assumed raison d’être: first and foremost, to present opera. Musicals are not opera.

I have a huge fondness for this company, Opera Australia and I count some of the finest productions of my professional life in its catalogue (Luhrmann’s La Bohème, Armfield’s Tristan & Isolde) and so I learn of the catalogue of woes from afar with great concern and sadness.

However, none of the issues I’ve described in this cook’s tour of my time at the helm of Opera Australia are new. Many people of goodwill have lent much time and expertise over the years to help the company – it tells us something that surely no art form in Australia has endured more inquiries than opera. So what baffles therefore is how it is that successive boards have either failed to understand or worse, have shown themselves deaf to the need to undertake reforms so obviously necessary to save, not just the company, but the sustainability of the wider arts ecology.

If Opera Australia is indeed our national flagship performing arts company, it needs to conduct itself accordingly because its fortunes affect many. There is no natural right to existence for a publicly subsidised opera company. The company must dig deep and identify exactly who and what it is for. For whom does it exist to serve? Fresh thinking at board level is needed.

I love opera and I love Opera Australia. I sincerely hope a solution can be found. Many opera companies around the world are experiencing similar difficulties but sadly, for our own national company, the problem is particularly acute.

Craig Hassall was CEO of Opera Australia from 2013 to 2016 and now lives in Cleveland, Ohio, where he manages Playhouse Square, the largest theatre district in the US after New York’s Broadway.