At the moment when the State Academic Theatre of Ballet and Opera’s crimson velvet curtain slowly rises, the audience is lifted out of reality and steps into another world. Through the magnificent music composed by great masters and the rhythm of dance, the sorrow, love, longing, and vulnerability hidden deep within the human soul are brought to life in the language of art, and this is the very essence of classical art, a precious spiritual treasure and cultural heritage of humanity.
This art form has taken root in Mongolian soil, developing its own identity and being presented to audiences through the tireless efforts of generations of artists. Yet today, behind the sacred theater curtain, within a space largely unseen by the public, what is truly happening? Unfortunately, the heart of Mongolia’s classical arts has become a battleground for narrow personal interests, disputes driven by ambition, influence, and power.
ARTISTS HAVE ALSO ‘CONTRIBUTED’
Art cannot be measured like coal or gold in grams, nor can its value be defined by profit. It is not an economic commodity, but a spiritual treasure. Indeed, classical art remains one of the key indicators of a nation’s development and the cultural and intellectual level of its people.
However, in today’s society, art is often narrowly perceived as mere entertainment. Increasingly, people seek financial gain from art, measuring its worth by ticket sales alone. Yet it would be unfair to blame society entirely for this misconception. Artists themselves have, to some extent, contributed to this distortion.
While they proclaim themselves as enlighteners of society, internally they remain divided, entangled in conflicts of interest, and in doing so, have eroded public trust. Artists ought to lead the effort to correct society’s misconceptions and strengthen cultural values. Instead, they have become preoccupied with internal disputes within the “orange building”, along with issues of salaries and finances, ultimately failing to fulfill their noble role.
FORCING OUT LEADERS THEY DISAPPROVE OF
In recent years, a troubling pattern has emerged at the theatre: artists have adopted a “tactic” of forcing out leaders who do not meet their expectations. Former director Ts.Tuvshintugs was opposed under the claim that “the theater should not be led by a popular singer”. Subsequently, B.Sarantuya was appointed as acting director, yet conflicts and disputes did not subside. Eventually, D.Altankhuyag, a Principal Dancer from the Boston Ballet in the United States, was appointed as a truly professional leader. However, the artists once again protested, organizing demonstrations that ultimately led to his removal from office. Since then, the theater has remained without a director. In other words, a leadership vacuum has emerged, and the institution has effectively become a “leaderless” theater dominated by struggles for competing interests.
Whose interests does all of this ultimately serve? Does this vicious cycle, where any appointed director is met with resistance and swiftly removed, contribute to the theater’s development, or is it pushing it toward decline?
A highly skilled artist is not necessarily a capable manager or leader. Yet such instability in leadership inevitably delivers a heavy blow to the theater’s long-term planning, international relations, and financial sustainability.
In contrast, world-renowned institutions such as La Scala and the Metropolitan Opera define their artistic policies independently of political influence, guided by principles of professional governance. Through boards of directors, they ensure financial autonomy and appoint leadership through open, competitive selection processes.
Globally, theater directors and artistic leaders are not appointed through political decisions, but through international open competitions announced two to three years in advance, followed by long-term contracts of five to 10 years with their management teams. Moreover, under the model of art management, responsibilities such as finance, marketing, and the establishment of endowment funds are clearly structured at a professional level, allowing artists to focus solely on their creative work without being entangled in administrative or financial matters.
NO ONE LEFT TO PLAY BASSOON OR DOUBLE BASS
In reality, the orchestral musicians who form the very core of classical music are today living from paycheck to paycheck, burdened by debt, which is a bitter truth. Industry insiders say that the 1 million MNT they take home each month is not even enough to cover their most basic living expenses. As a result, artists who are devoted to their profession are forced to dip into their family income just to make ends meet, or ultimately abandon their artistic careers altogether.
The consequences are already visible: the Mongolian State Philharmonic Orchestra and the State Academic Theatre of Ballet and Opera are facing a severe shortage of personnel, to the extent that musicians must be invited from outside in order to stage major productions. In particular, there are no longer enough specialists to play instruments such as the bassoon, double bass, and oboe.
However, one of the biggest obstacles is the theater’s refusal to allow media access to report on these issues and present the reality to the public. Journalists who attempt to see the working conditions firsthand and report the truth have been repeatedly silenced for two months now with the same responses, “The leadership has not yet been finalized” and “We are unable to provide information at this time.”
In truth, the mold-covered walls, rusted pipes, and corridors filled with the stench of sewage cannot be hidden from anyone. Due to years without proper maintenance, the dressing rooms and rest areas for artists have long failed to meet even basic hygiene standards. With leaking roofs, peeling paint, and damp rehearsal spaces, it is unreasonable to expect world-class performances from artists working under such conditions.
It is particularly troubling that, despite being a state-funded institution supported by taxpayers, the theater operates with the opacity of a private entity, while leadership appointments are handled with a level of secrecy. Meanwhile, the ministry responsible for the sector appears to exhaust its budget more on leadership reshuffles and insignificant events than on developing a long-term cultural vision.
Experts in the field emphasize that, if Mongolia is to avoid falling behind intellectually and culturally, urgent and comprehensive reforms are needed in the cultural sector, especially in classical arts. They stress that classical art is a pillar of national intellectual resilience, and that it is time to establish a legal framework that protects cultural institutions from narrow political interests and undue influence.
First and foremost, the labor of artists must be fairly valued, and their salaries should be increased, not necessarily to international standards, but at least to match the domestic cost of living. In addition, leadership appointments must be conducted through open and transparent selection processes, based on the recommendations of professional councils. It is a global norm that theaters can only develop under stable leadership, which is something Mongolia must also adopt.
At the same time, artists themselves must also change their attitudes. Rather than engaging in internal disputes and undermining one another, they must unite to promote the value of classical art to society, focus on audience education, and dedicate themselves to creating high-quality works.
