Your average visit to Sydney Opera House begins with what I like to call Herding Point, where your Uber is stopped by hi-vis traffic controllers who guide you through temporary enclosures about 300 meters from your destination desired.  A foyer in the Sydney Opera House, pictured as apparently would like to keep it. "src =" https://static.ffx.io/images/$zoom_0.53%2C$multiply_1%2C$ratio_1.776846%2C$width_1059%2C$x_0%2C$y_0/t_crop_custom/w_768/t_sharpen%2Cq_auto % 2Cf_auto% 2Cdpr_auto / 1e20699cc37233dad2dfb3ed1bb3df3a3e85d723 "srcset =" https://static.ffx.io/images/$zoom_0.53%2C$multiply_1
A foyer in the Sydney Opera House, pictured as apparently would like to keep it. Credit: Anna Kucera
From there walk the square, dodging tourists, joggers and seagulls to reach the real place.
If you survived here – welcome to the Hunger Games.
If your night takes you to Joan Sutherland The atre or the Concert Hall, be ready to be barked by security, introduced into neat and searched files and searched before reaching the next level.
Congratulations, you can now collect your tickets.
Some fascinating years it is hoped that the signs will be directed to the right booth where some bored ticket clerks will give you the entry card after you give them your document identity, credit card, DNA sample and house stock.
If the tickets are under someone else's name, and you were hoping to enjoy a drink at the bar while you wait for them, think again. Without a ticket you can not progress further – another security guard or long strips of ugly black tape will stop you.
You have to wait for your friend from the baths, in a bad draft, dodging people who have lost themselves in the labyrinth of the Opera House for centuries
If you were to get a ticket, congratulations, you could advance beyond security , go up the stairs and enter the next holding area.
Here, for the price of a farm, you can buy a limp sandwich or a glass of wine and wander around the foyer, sure that you're one of the few chosen.
The funny thing about this is that people have paid hundreds of dollars to be treated as criminals, barking
Once inside, the Opera House is extraordinary . It is a privilege to see the best interpreters of the world embellish their sacred stage.
But why should we endure the hard trial of getting there?
Security is fundamental, protecting the headquarters and those in it essential, but must it be performed as a military operation? Does the staff have to be so rude? Does the experience of going to one of the most famous buildings in the world have to be so unpleasant?
I've been to the House a number of times and I can safely find my way around the various spaces but on a recent visit I was not sure I'm where a show took place and we stopped by a security guard, reflecting on the fact that this place required a search for luggage or if we could just wander around?
He kindly asked if he could help? Of course not, he just barked something twice and I rushed in fear.
The Opera House is not the only place in the city that employs too bad personnel to be prison guards. The Capitol Theater has probably hosted productions of Annie over the years and the cramped atrium and staff's home seem to indicate that it is making an exhibition of Annie and it really is
People have paid hundreds of dollars to go to the theater, hired babysitters, summoned an Uber and expect a good night.
Our spaces and cultural spaces have a duty to ensure that the public's experience is positive and welcoming from the moment they arrive, and this does not mean barked orders from security personnel on a journey of power. .
Nathanael Cooper is the vice director of entertainment at the Sydney Morning Herald and The Age.