Madam Speaker, I cannot believe that it is mid‑June and we are still debating the long-awaited bill to reform the Broadcasting Act. We have been waiting for 30 years.
My colleague, the member for Drummond, and his colleagues at the Standing Committee on Canadian Heritage almost managed to pass Bill C‑10, the first version of the current Bill C‑11, in the last Parliament. Our democracy and our work are dependent on royal assent, which was refused. We had to start over.
I applaud the very useful work done during the 43th Parliament on the former Bill C‑10, which resulted in the current bill, Bill C-11, being more substantive. It has already been well-received by the creative industry. We therefore saved time.
However, today, I am getting the unpleasant impression that this is the same movie over again. All that does is fuel cynicism among Canadians. I wonder if those who are dragging this out by filibustering really care at all about culture itself, its creators, its broadcasters and its audience. The audience is worried there will be no new content. They are worried about losing their content creators, who are stretched thin. That would mean losing the thing that has been giving life to modern societies, all the way back into antiquity: culture.
For those watching our debates, I want to talk about the crucial steps involved in creating a finished work, or rather one that has been allowed to leave the nest. Indeed, a work is never really finished. It is a bit like raising children: We pour our love, values, time, energy and emotions into them, but there comes a time when we simply have to let them fly on their own, taking the best we have given them. A work of art is the same thing.
I could talk about creating a painting, a dance, a circus show or a sculpture, or writing a novel or a play, but my world is music. Music is what I know.
I know that all artistic endeavours go through essentially the same stages: research, development and creation of the idea through to final composition, preproduction, production, deciding where to release the work and how to promote it, marketing, and public performance. No matter the art or expression, there are many stages, all of them demanding.
It is important to remember that, for many singers and musicians, the creative process does not end with recording their music and songs.
Artists have to work on their instrument. Singers have to develop and refine their vocal technique. They have to pay a voice coach to help them manage their energy and polish their raw talent, just like professional athletes train to master their technique. It is hard work, and the best trainers are expensive.
Singers also have to develop their musical ability. Many accompany themselves on an instrument or two. Those musical instruments are pretty much essential tools for setting lyrics to music. The next step is a comprehensive creative process that unites words and music.
Some participate in workshops. Others are more self-taught. Still others call on the musical talents of veteran musicians. Eventually inspiration strikes. As if by magic, lyrics find their musical match, words weave their way in and out of chord progressions. That is the joy of creation.
Once the song is written, or rather, the songs are written, because it takes more than one to market an artist, some fine-tuning is needed. Artists have to surround themselves with good musicians and find a producer to finance the recording of the songs, since the basic vehicle for the art of songwriting is people hearing the songs. Some will invest the money and produce it themselves. Others, a very small percentage, might be able to access a few government incentives. Most—and I emphasize that word—are their own producers and will invest their own money, or worse, go into debt to try to break into a market that has become increasingly opaque.
Let us talk about the production stage. I will talk about my own experience, because it is mine, and it is the one I know best. I recorded one of my albums at my family's home in Isle-aux-Coudres. I wanted my collaborators and the musicians to be captivated by that majestic river, which I wanted to celebrate in song. I was hoping the setting would enrich their musical performance and therefore further enhance my songs.
My father, who had always been a bit skeptical about this whole singing business, and who thought, like many people, that it was easy, fun and simple to make music if you had a bit of talent, was genuinely amazed at the science behind the recording process and the amount of time it requires. When he saw that it took half a day just to balance the drum and bass levels, he could hardly believe it.
For a good week we worked on guitar, violin, the accordion, keyboards and vocals. We started the preproduction; we played all the songs to become familiar with them, to find the sounds and harmonies, to find the right instruments for each song. Then we were finally ready to record.
Each song has its own universe. We start by recording a guiding vocal track. It is not the final vocal track, it is just the one that will guide the musicians. Then we record one by one and we record the final vocals and the vocal harmonies that support and enhance the whole work. We do all that for the 10 or 12 songs that will be part of the album that we hope will be the best one of our lives.
Is that it? No, far from it. Then each song needs to be mixed, because all these sounds need to have a pleasant balance and appropriate audio to make it pleasing to the ear, which will drive the rest.
After the mixing, is it done? No, not at all; then comes the mastering, what we call matriçage in French. We need a master in the art to ensure that every volume is appropriate for the different broadcasting forms, either the radio, headphones or outdoor broadcasts, at low decibel levels or high decibel levels. It is an art and it is expensive.
Is it done? No, not yet. The next step is to find a graphic artist who will be able to showcase the entire work and create an attractive presentation for a CD booklet, the cover for a vinyl record, which is my favourite medium, or the visual accompaniment for the music on streaming platforms.
Now is it done? No, not yet. The artist still has to get their music out there by hiring a manager or an agent, as the case may be, to promote the album to various broadcasters and promoters. It is of course imperative to create a show in order to bring the work to life. Then the process starts all over again: looking for a venue, a sound technician, a lighting technician and a stage manager, finding some available musicians and putting on a show. If, and only if, the work is a success with the public will the artist earn a little income from the process.
I have to emphasize that, regardless of the artist's popularity, it is only if streaming platforms have copyright and reproduction rights obligations that all these efforts and the financial risk taking will be compensated with a small amount of royalties.
That is what creating involves. Creators are resilient, patient and firmly convinced that their works play an important, not to say fundamental, role in the social universe of the community.
The last time that I rose in the House to speak to Bill C‑11 was 34 days ago.
According to the former minister of Canadian heritage and current Minister of the Environment and Climate Change, for every month that goes by without passing this bill, creators lose roughly $70 million. Using cross-multiplication, we can calculate that the creative industry has lost a little over $78 million since my last speech. Since the beginning of this Parliament, our culture and its content creators have been deprived of $1.33 billion.
We cannot wait any longer to pass Bill C‑11. The survival of our artists, the very essence of our cultural past and future, has been hijacked by these political squabbles. We need to stop treating creators like drones that create art to entertain us. Yes, they do entertain us, but that is their job. It is a demanding job that requires a lot of discipline and courage. It is also, above all, how they earn their living.
