Tag Archives: communications

Adventures in Arts Marketing: Le Mot Juste & the Power of Ritual

This is the third installment in my arts marketing series, previously called, tongue-in-cheek “Arts Marketing for Dummies,” which for obvious reasons is not a suitable longer-term title: Part 1 on non-profit inefficiency, Part 2 on online communications.

I like to use real-world examples when it comes to arts marketing, because in the arts, people are inclined to congratulate you for trying, rather than succeeding. That’s not necessary helpful in business communications, where you seek more targeted feedback. Because we all fail, this isn’t to spotlight any particular organization but to recognize that we’ve all been there. That said, let me roast SIFF a little, on two counts: first, a question of language usage, and secondly, a problem that arises from “life within our walls,” or institutional ritual.

Still from Wim Wenders' Pina

This post would have been a review of Wim Wenders’ film Pina, his 3D film about Pina Bausch, which had an invitation-only screening for SIFF members last night at SIFF’s Uptown theater. About a week ago, an invitation popped into my overstuffed email inbox, offering me a free sneak peek. I happen to be a new SIFF member, and while I get invited to press screenings, there’s nothing like the feeling of seeing a film with a “real” audience, so I was happy to try this benefit out.

Typically with promotional screenings, there’s a pass you pick up at some participating retailer–SIFF asks that you both RSVP and print out a ticket to bring with you. With a pass, there’s no guarantee of seating; you show up early as possible and get in line. SIFF’s member screenings–despite the RSVP and printed ticket–work the same way, I discovered, to my chagrin. After taking the bus across town, I arrived 20 minutes early to see a line of people moving into the theater already. I joined about 20 people at the tail end, who were engaged in lively conversation about Pina, but were suddenly downcast to learn that the theater was full.

I looked at my ticket, to see where it said “Seating not guaranteed,” or “First come, first served.” Nothing like that. I suspect the original emailed invitation did, because I did have the impression that I needed to get there somewhat early. But here’s where consistent word choice is important for cueing people: neither RSVP (for a printed-out, personalized with your name ticket) suggests to the holder the reality of the situation, which is that SIFF routinely “overbooks” member screenings to account for people not showing up for free events.

The agreement with an RSVP is that you are making a commitment to show up, that the host can count on you, with the counter agreement that you can count on the host to expect you. It doesn’t make sense for you to RSVP to someone who is not saving space for you, personally. Nor, really, would you want to personalize a printed ticket that, well, isn’t one. A ticket stands for guaranteed admission. What’s needed here is a generic “pass” that reminds you of the relevant admission details in large type.

That’s fairly nitpicky, but it’s also why marketing communications feels like a job; you have to overthink every interaction and troubleshoot the smallest details.

The more problematic element here is that there’s a conflict between the individual the institution serves and the way the institution behaves. As the staff member explained to me, “We always overbook these events.” So this is established practice, right? Moving along.

But in fact, I am a brand-new member. This is the first time I’ve tried to use one of my member benefits. And my time is valuable. If you add in waiting for the bus to my travel time, there and back, I wasted about an hour and a half of my evening. (To “get it back,” I’ve turned the experience into a teachable moment, but it’s not really the same thing.)

To repeat, SIFF doesn’t want to assume that a new member knows what they “always” do, or that established practice carries any weight in consoling me–I’m new. The decision on overbooking is also something that has more to do with SIFF than me. It’s not a benefit to me, personally, that screenings are or aren’t full because other people didn’t show up.

If, as was suggested, the guideline is that I should try to arrive at 5 p.m. for good seats a 7 p.m. show, I think they’re stretching the concept of “benefit” a little farther than is supported. That’s more like a task, or ordeal. I call this kind of thinking “institutional ritual” because you don’t question ritual, you just perform it. But you do want to question a practice that results in your brand-new donors feeling snubbed, first thing.

From within SIFF, I understand perfectly how this may seem like an optimal way of not only filling the theater, but of keeping a sense of scarcity. But the downside–turning donors away who told you they’d be there a week in advance–is disproportionate, considering that the event only exists as a member benefit.

The important thing to note here, if you don’t work at SIFF, is how established practice gives strange things sanction. Institutional ritual plays a part every time you approve a practice that you personally would dislike to experience, but which is “good” for your organization. Maintaining a continual source of misunderstandings and disappointments is never good for an organization, long-term–people new to your organization will not necessarily feel empowered to complain, but will trust you less. Make the extra effort to resolve these imbalances, rather than rely on force majeure.

Now, to balance out this criticism, let me tell you about a SIFF event you can guarantee yourself a seat at:

Film fans are invited to see the Oscar-nominated dance film and Sundance Selects release PINA, and meet its acclaimed filmmaker during an exclusive 3-D screening event at Seattle Cinerama Theatre this month.

The event, which starts at 8 p.m. on February 17, is hosted by Seattle International Film Festival (SIFF) and the Cinerama as part of an ongoing effort to bring rich cinematic experiences to the Seattle community. PINA film director Wim Wenders will be on hand to talk about the documentary, which is a tribute to legendary dance choreographer Pina Bausch. There will be a question and answer session with Wenders moderated by Donald Byrd, artistic director of Spectrum Dance Theater.

Purchase your tickets ($30) at the Cinerama. (From February 10, you can see Pina at the Cinerama; after that run, it will move to SIFF’s Uptown Theatre.)

UPDATE: It’s always nice to see an organization make adjustments. Here’s an excerpt from SIFF’s latest newsletter to members:

What you need to know:

  • Invitations are sent from Eventbrite (via email) one to two days prior to the screening date.
  • Most screenings are shared screenings with other individuals throughout the community.
  • Please only accept invitations if you are able to attend. (With nearly 4,000 members, it is only fair not to take up a spot you do not plan on using.)
  • If for some unforeseen reason are unable to attend please contact Phoebe Hopkins, Development Coordinator, so we can open up your seat to other members.
  • On the day of the screening please print and present your Eventbrite ticket for admission.
  • Seating is first-come, first served.
  • Arrive early to ensure your place in line.

Arts Marketing for Dummies: Tactical Ops

Hey, it's MvB!

In my first Arts Marketing for Dummies post, we started out at 30,000 feet, surveying the landscape of non-profit structure and motivations. This is the kind of thing that drives harried non-profit marketers crazy, because they are not tasked with reinventing their company’s business model. So let’s take a more tactical approach.

There’s just one core assumption that everything else here is built on: Non-profit communications (marketing, PR, development) are first and foremost communications with their audience. They’re part of a relationship that exists, or are part of building a relationship. (All too often, in a stressed non-profit, that relationship takes a turn toward hostage-taking at the end of the fiscal year: “Give Now or We’ll Shoot Next Season!)

But non-profits–partly because they believe their audience is older and out of it–have yet to take full advantage of the productivity advances provided by technology. Arts organizations often blame their programming for gray-haired audiences, but if you survey the larger population about any given exhibit or performance, you will find that most people have never heard of it. Because arts groups lack money for large mass-media campaigns, they tend to market to their existing audience more intensively.

That doesn’t mean the arts don’t use technology, it just means, usually, they use everything else, too. They call you on the phone, they mail you letters and newsletters and brochures and postcards, they email you, they tweet at you, and pester you to like them on Facebook. The non-profit gun of choice must be the shotgun.

Log in to almost any private company’s site, including the startiest start-up, and you’ll generally be offered communications choices, sometimes basic options and sometimes insanely granular. You can adjust these as you go along. Then, if you purchase something, an account history is created that you can see as well. Often, you’re presented with further options in managing your account.

Now visit a non-profit site. Can you even log in? Do you see anything that suggests a communications strategy based on your preferences? Can you send night-of-show alerts to your phone? How easy is it to interact with and manage your “account,” view your donation history this year?

Or do you see a content shotgun pointed in your direction? Read the blog. Watch this video. Follow us on Twitter. Sign up for the newsletter. RING RING. “Hi, we noticed you purchased tickets online five minutes ago. Would you like to buy two more, or make a donation?”

Is that a relationship, or just someone who is incredibly demanding of your attention? In my experience, when people in business aren’t sure what the best thing to do is, they may do many, many things not very well, in the hopes that something works.

Non-profits know from experience that direct mail supplies so much response, as does a telemarketing or telefundraising campaign, and then there’s online solicitation. So they all go into the hopper. If you bought a single ticket four years ago, you’re getting something in the mail.

I know that in business “self-help” you’re supposed to provide people with numbered lists, so here goes. I just have one but I will number it. Oh, and add boldface.

1) Reorganize yourself around online communications (aka “Tweet first”).

I won’t need to tell most of you that the game has changed. But to get the most out of the time and money available to your non-profit, you’ve got to begin with online communications, not use them as a supplement. (Drop the senior-citizen excuse: 80-year-olds have email.) This may seem easy enough but old habits die hard. Would you give an exclusive to a major newspaper…or your audience on Facebook? Would you write up a full press release, or tweet about it to the reporters following you on Twitter?

Media coverage of the arts is occasional these days, so I would estimate that some 80 percent of news releases don’t actually need to exist, if you judged strictly on coverage generated. They exist because that’s how you justify your PR salary. Who needs to know this information? Isn’t it easier to just tell them yourself, through channels you already possess?

I have to ask, because this always pains me, but how many non-profits actively solicit email addresses from various contact points? Not just that little box on your site, but volunteers walking around with clipboards at events. Email is the actual gold standard, but you’d never really know it from how people treat it. “People never see it,” carp old-school types who have not been inspecting recycling bins to see the…what? 90 percent?…of unread direct mail.

(If you get season tickets sent to you in the mail, note the envelope probably says so in large letters. That’s because people were seeing that it was a letter from “that arts group” and throwing their tickets away.)

I’m always a little stunned by organizations that refuse to spend the money on a self-returning postcard asking for email addresses from their audience. “Too expensive,” they say, as they prepare for the design, printing, mailhouse, and postage for a direct mail drop. But that postcard should probably go out every six months, to keep track of new emails. (How easy is it for your email subscribers to update their email address on their own?)

Established non-profits can be august personages. They have very nice stationery and they intend to use it. That has its major-donor place. But what about online micro-donors? They likely do not care about the weight of your bond.

Micro-donation is scalable. Weak ties are fine with micro-donation–it’s more a question of whether the funding project sounds exciting or necessary. Independent artists, through Kickstarter, are discovering the power of pocket money, while larger organizations are still sending out direct mail donation requests that start at $25, but usually have $75 circled, as a suggestion.

It’s 2011, and I still walk into press rooms to be handed large folders full of printed material. People hand me CDs. In the best case, this is redundant, because it’s already online. In the worst case, I get to do data entry or wonder where in the evening I misplaced that CD, which didn’t fit in my pocket. Even if you don’t have a full website to store press materials at, you can still sign up for a Dropbox account.

Online comes first. Online comes before the brochure. Don’t you dare print that first and then chop it up for online use. Stop “repurposing.” Your audience is online. Your brochure should be a shriveled appendage by this point, sent only to strange outposts far beyond the reaches of civilization. This is where you will start to find efficiencies, as you start to drop a few of those superfluous balls you’ve been juggling.

Far from doing everything, all at once, the goal here is to do online primarily, and do it very well. The handwritten thank-you note still has its place, but it’s hard to think of any regular communications to your audience at large that shouldn’t be conducted online.

As for the wider audience, stop automatically going back to the printed well. Online advertising and sponsorship will cost a fraction of what it would cost in print. You have, for once, the chance to experiment and test with various sites and messaging formats. That’s where your time is going to best spent: discovering what works online. (Trust me, if you don’t discover what works online, you have a dark future ahead of you.)

As a postscript on this point, a short story: I’m not sure how long The Gathering Note existed, here in Seattle. Since June 2007? Founder Zach Carstensen is moving on from running it as a multi-author blog. For the bulk of its life, despite it being a major source of online classical music reviews locally, it went unadvertised upon. Keep in mind that there was no reason to visit the blog unless you were interested in classical music, so it was a targeted readership. I’m sure you could have offered TGN $25 and gotten an ad placement. But no one did. You know why? Because arts groups do not yet think “online.”

Here at the SunBreak we’ve been writing about and reviewing local arts for two years. We average over 10,000 unique visitors a month (or 20,000, depending on the stats package), presumably people who are either interested in local arts or unable to shake the habit of clicking on our links even though the arts are anathema to them. In two years, we’ve been queried about arts advertising and sponsorship twice. People haven’t even asked. I find that amazing.

I know, you’re busy working on a great new brochure. You have a conference to attend on how to attract younger audience members.

No, I kid. But I don’t. The audience you want is online. Stop messing around with the other stuff. You’ll get a lot more done.