Tag Archives: management

Arts & Entertainment

Adventures in Arts Marketing: What If Everybody Came?

Thanks to the munificence of the Paul G. Allen Family Foundation, I’ve been reading a report by the Helicon Collaborative, about arts leadership in the Pacific Northwest (pdf). Here’s what they wanted to know: Who was succeeding without being rich ha ha rich? As I read through the findings, and (see if you agree with me) I began to wonder if maybe the “declining arts audience” is a function of zero-sum arts marketing. Is the converse true? (The conversation continues on Helicon’s blog.)

Take the case of Anchorage Opera. Here is the “innovation” that caught my eye: “Whereas the opening night gala used to cost $500 a plate and attract fewer than 100 people, it is now a $25 party that welcomes all. Last year, 1,000 people attended, most of whom had never been in the building before.”

The other groundbreaking move? Musicals. Their audience didn’t see that there was a huge difference between musicals and opera, so Anchorage Opera decided to oblige them. Attendance is up 50 percent overall. Thank you profit-making South Pacific. (I know, I know–opera sucks at drawing crowds, you might argue, but it’s opera. CATS is not. Yet I don’t think Anchorage is pandering; I think they’re getting to know their audience, and are cultivating their interest in a range of music and theatre. As you’d hope, newcomers attend a musical, and feel emboldened to try out an opera. In a different niche, a different kind of programming.)

Closer to home, Seattle Art Museum, On the Boards, and ACT also get admiring close-ups. ACT deservedly gets a great deal of attention, thanks to its willingness to experiment not only with its programming but with its identity and organizational structure. I spoke with Gian-Carlo Scandiuzzi just about a year ago about ACT’s reinvention, and while that interview looks to be becoming an annual thing, it’s good to see other local leaders are heard from.

That said, it was ACT’s Kurt Beattie who supplied the key phrasing–a “vertical ecosystem of artistic practice”–that has guided ACT’s changes. Helicon notes that a clear animating purpose is foundational for high performance. (Most mission statements will have the high performance part just written in there, rather than describe precisely how and why that’s going to happen.)

I know you want the whole Helicon checklist for high-performing arts groups, so here goes: a) a clear purpose and compelling vision, b) deep community engagement, c) unblinkered evaluation and analysis, d) nimbleness and flexibility, and e) distributed leadership. That all sounds good, but you really need to soak up the examples provide to learn the underlying lesson, which is that this is only going to work if your organization is predisposed to evolutionary change (not many are), or if pressing environmental factors are giving you the leverage you need.

Well, in most cases these days, the environment is a friend to changing the status quo. I love the following quote from an article at Grantmaking in the Arts: “Please, Don’t Start a Theatre Company!” Everyone knows that Robert Frost poem, yes? So why is Rebecca Novick able to write this:

In the past fifteen years, the number of nonprofit theater companies in the United States has doubled while audiences and funding have shrunk. Neither the field nor the next generation of artists is served by this unexamined multiplication of companies based on the same old model.

It’s the road less traveled by that makes all the difference. Seattle’s theatre scene is not at all resistant to the kudzu of neophyte companies. We are loaded down to the leaf springs with acting talent, there’s a kaleidoscope of artistic directorial visions, but, sadly, operational collaboration lags behind. (I can’t criticize without mentioning the existence of Shunpike, an organization that’s been meeting a lot of these needs since 2001: turning artists into professional arts staff, providing fiscal sponsorship so you don’t have to 501(c)3, and even matching artists with venues. And let’s not forget Springboard, either.)

I am keeping my fingers crossed that the trio of Washington Ensemble Theatre, Strawberry Theatre Workshop, and New Century Theatre are having some substantive discussions about reorganizing as a tri-headed resident theatre in their new 12th Avenue arts space, but neither would I be surprised to hear that they’re just roommates.

This is the moment Helicon would likely recommend a ruthless self-inventory. ACT, Seattle Symphony, and Seattle Opera could certainly pass on some counterintuitive advice about expectations around new venues–almost nothing is more expensive than moving into and maintaining a new venue, and you will need to make dramatic changes to your business model to adapt.

Scandiuzzi likes to say budgeting is simple. Don’t spend more than you make. To ensure that, ACT now budgets for less than they made the preceding year. They can always make more money than they expected, after all. That’s great. But many non-profits like to follow a more “linear” last-year-plus-five-percent forecasting model, turning an Excel graph into a Magic 8-Ball.

On the Boards’ Lane Czaplinski calls it the “grow or die” metaphor, and it can be fatal. With the Great Recession coming on, OtB forecast a ten- to fifteen-percent drop in revenue, and then doubled it, just to be on the safe side. That’s ruthless, for a non-profit. There’s never any real fat, and what will people say? A few years later, as it turns out, OtB gets featured in a best-practices study. Compare and contrast with the former Intiman.

(If you’re going to cut, advises Helicon, don’t assume you know best for staff: Ask them to generate the best ways to cut costs, and offer them the chance to choose. Someone might like to take advantage of a month furlough during a slow period. Someone else might like a 4-day workweek better. That’s another lesson from ACT’s files.)

http://sunbreakmagazine.com/2011/03/18/sam-remix-mardi-gras-extended/

Seattle Art Museum’s plaudits come from its partnerships and community activities. It’s now apparent that if you are an arts organization with a building, and you aren’t throwing that space open to artistic and community partnerships, you’re making (Gob Bluth V.O.) “a huge mistake.” You may have a mission, and you may think that’s your focus, but what you have is a building, and the building weighs a lot more on your balance sheet than a mission statement.

SAM–besides throwing itself open to community celebrations of its exhibits–puts a tremendous amount of energy into artistic and cultural collaborations that speak to SAM’s idiosyncratic identity. A museum is a museum is a museum. But SAM is SAM. Only SAM is located where it is, has those particular rooms and halls, has its ability to welcome and showcase (to curate) Seattle’s arts and cultural scene.

This is a long way from: We exist to show you great paintings. SAM’s quarterly, late-night Remix parties have made it a for-reals, no-hype destination for people who never felt invited before. (You know how insecure hipsters are.)

If it is difficult to ask yourself, as an organization, if maybe the arts audience is just not that into you, it’s even harder to answer without excuses. Everyone can list ten reasons why people may not like the art being presented. As a professional, I can give you 25 really good ones that will fit most occasions, including climate change.

But SAM’s Sandra Jackson-Dumont makes a point about arts partnerships that is worth repeating in a wider sense: Arts organizations need to stop treating the arts audience as if they are scarce game.The bigger the organization and the larger their associated ticket price-point, the more they tend to fight for the well-moneyed-yet-cultured class. It’s just assumed that everyone is spoken for. Except when they’re not, as SAM’s success in drawing new audiences illustrates. Are they “museum-goers” (hushed, reverential, painting-watchers)? No. Are they Seattleites in search of cultural experience? Yes.

And also, there are weird proliferations of arts-group species that have nothing to do with public demand: As Novick mentions, every theatre group’s existence supposes an audience will support it, whether anyone asked for it or not. In Seattle, there’s also a profusion of chamber music groups that is disproportionate to the number of people who currently attend chamber music, or can define the term. But you can’t stop four musicians from forming a quartet.

So, a thought experiment, for groups big and small: What if everybody came? You probably have two immediate responses. First, that would never happen: Not everyone likes Schnittke. Secondly, that could never happen: Every organization is limited by its physical capacity.

What I want to emphasize is that zero-sum marketing (“This is our arts audience–you get yours!”) is born from an infantile, parasitic world view. “Infantile” because the priority is on having your needs met. Too many young organizations begin with a burning desire to state their mission, without taking into corresponding account the needs of the larger audience around them. “Parasitic” because they intend to subdivide the existing arts audience, rather than add new members to it. (I’m sure there’s a nicer way to say this.)

Helicon throws the word “evolutionary” around in their report, but let’s use it more rigorously. Consider the uproar over E.O. Wilson’s repositioning of social organization and how it creates “group selection” effects. All the way from Boston’s NPR station, a quick summary:

It turns out that the two dozen eusocial species became adept cooperators due to a combination of thousands of generations of genetic adaptations that led to the formation of nesting colonies. (Think ants, bees, wasps, the naked mole rat.) The tendency was cemented in human evolution when human ancestors came together in early tribes who hunted, foraged and lived cooperatively.

Only an arts community can ask, seriously, What if everybody came? That’s the kind of question that’s almost never asked by any single organization. It’s absurd. Can you imagine? But it is exactly the question an arts community can respond to (if not, precisely, ask) through its organization and behaviors.

You begin to see inklings of this wider consciousness in the behavior of Helicon’s “Bright Spots”–they are strongly adaptive to their particular community’s (not just “their audience’s”) needs and interests, and they shift roles depending upon their context in the arts ecology. Discovery of those needs can lead to significant role changes, not just in terms of “delivery of the product,” but in terms of what the desired artistic experience is.

Adaptability can be thrust upon you. When Seattle Opera offers a free HD screening of Madama Butterfly in KeyArena, it’s big news. When times are good, McCaw Hall is selling out, and donors are flush, an opera company may not worry so much about playing to the same people, season after season, just a little grayer. So this is a bold populist move, from a functionally elitist art form. (“We’re a luxury good,” I was told once. “Like a Lexus.”) The Opera is still selling tickets to its shows, of course, and there’s no reason to assume every opera should be HD all the time. It’s a response. You make a change, you evaluate, you decide what to do next.

Is opera broadcast in HD still live opera? Is HD theatre still theatre? These are interesting, important questions. Are they more interesting and important than the pent-up demand for them? Is there a good reason not to realize the black box theatre space can function as a broadcast studio (with a “live studio audience”?)

Go on. Push yourself back from the spreadsheet. Ask yourself, What if everyone came?

Arts & Entertainment, Film & TV

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

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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 & Entertainment, Theatre

Balagan Theatre Cast as an “Off-Broadway” Impresario

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Balagan's Jake "Captain Hammer" Groshong responding to a tenant's request (Photo: M. Elizabeth Eller)

The Seattle Times reported the good news recently that Balagan Theatre finally has a place to lay its collective head again, after “outgrowing” its home in the basement of Boom Noodle, on Capitol Hill. Balagan has been tapped to manage the Erickson Theatre Off-Broadway, owned by Seattle Central Community College.

As a Seattle Central spokesperson explained to CHS:

The Broadway Management Group has had the contract to manage both theatres (BPH and Erickson). However, that contract expires in Sept. and by state rules we must issue an RFP and go through a competitive process to award a new contract. A committee of the college decided to award the BPH contract to the Broadway Management Group and the Erickson contract to Balagan.

As you know, nothing can happen in Seattle’s arts community without an outbreak of paranoid conspiracy theory, often based on people knowing next to nothing about the details. So no surprise there’s already a Save the Erickson page on Facebook. A Seattle Dances post says, based on no evidence provided in the post: “Seattle’s best, most professional, most affordable theatre for small dance companies might be going bye-bye.” [UPDATE: Apology here.]

It is highly unlikely that a single small theatre could hog the Erickson, of course. Small companies are usually struggling to put on the few short runs of shows they can afford to present. Besides dance companies, the Erickson’s tenants have included the highly regarded Strawberry Theatre Workshop and the New Century Theatre Company, without previous public complaint.

Meanwhile, on the Slog post about the move, Annex Theatre’s more due-diligent Chris Comte has questions about the lack of local visibility of the RFP, and Balagan’s qualifications:

…the RFP specifically seeks a PROFESSIONAL MANAGEMENT COMPANY to run the space, and not a VOLUNTEER-RUN PRODUCING ORGANIZATION to both operate the space and use it as a home base for their own productions, which would seem to present a glaringly obvious conflict-of-interest, since SCCC will not only be paying Balagan to run the Erickson, but will now, in effect, be subsidizing their productions to a significant degree.

Comte seems to be reading ahead, here, as I don’t think he’s seen the agreement specifics. It is also true that, generally, it’s easy to be envious of Balagan’s good fortune while being in no way prepared or interested in accepting the duties and headaches of a management company.

I contacted Jake Groshong, Balagan’s executive director, to see about Balagan’s planned usage. Groshong, who has an MFA in Arts Leadership from Seattle University, said he was aware there was anxiety about the change, but offered this reassurance:

Balagan will use it for our own productions only in 4 or 5 months out of the year. We want to see the place used as a true community venue that is accessible to the students, arts groups, and community at-large. This means not blocking off huge chunks of time when only one company can use it as much as possible. In fact, with the rentals we’re inheriting, we’re likely to get a max of 3 productions in the space for the first year. So overall, I think Balagan will use the space about 80 to 120 days/year.

Rather than complain about the change in management, I want to suggest that Groshong is right that the Erickson needs to become a “true community venue”–it’s central to Capitol Hill but tucked away between Pike and Pine on Harvard. It’s a great theatre for small companies, with 133 seats, but often they aren’t filled because small companies don’t have, singly, marketing budgets that can reach mainstream.

If “the Erickson” can become a known destination for Capitol Hill arts performance, then there are efficiencies in terms of cross-promotion and audience building. It might be possible to run some performances in repertory, to further build audience traffic. Certainly a shared home would give three small theatre companies reason to collaborate on back-end services that otherwise would be triplicated.

For a while, I’ve been asking companies to consider the benefits of separating distinct artistic goals and visions from everything it takes to produce them: support staff, lighting grids, box offices. Where there are physical realities that support this, it seems like a cooperative structure is the best way for arts groups to allocate resources. If this emerges bottom-up, out of Balagan Management, it would be a great thing for the arts in general.

UPDATE: Thanks to Chris Comte, who would like you to know his comments on Slog are on his own behalf, we have a link to the RFP (pdf), which I don’t believe either of the two existing tenant companies, Strawberry Theatre Workshop or New Century Theatre Company, were provided with any notice of. It appears Seattle Central Community College didn’t feel that was warranted. Once again, renters get screwed.

That said, the RFP itself asks only for a “qualified respondent to privately manage, market,
staff, maintain and make improvements to the Erickson Theater,” and most if not all of the requirements they list are something any theatre company would be familiar with.

Further, far from establishing a fiefdom, the RFP requires the management provider to:

…book events and promote services that will significantly expand both the numbers as well as the variety of plays, concerts, and other events held at the facilities, in keeping with the SCCC’s mission and values.

Also, I’m told that the management contract is open to rebidding each year. All that is required is for another company to express an interest in managing the Erickson. As I say, though, venue management is hard work. If you think Balagan has snagged a stealth residency, that’s one thing. If you think that Balagan has just snagged an enormous amount of extra work, as I tend to, that’s another.

In closing, wouldn’t it be wonderful if all three theatre companies (and any dance companies interested) worked on forming a Erickson-specific management company, one that was a distinct legal entity from the arts groups? (Perhaps something on the order of the non-profit partnership known as Beethoven, which consists of the Seattle Symphony, Seattle Opera, and ArtsFund.) If artists aren’t willing to experiment with socialism, who will?