Home Page

Just Say No to Form Letters

May 15, 2006

by:

Joe Patti

A plea to folks who might be tempted since I can’t say I know anyone doing this.

Many times granting organizations ask that recipients write to their Congressional delegates to make them aware of how National Endowment funds are being used. Often the granting organization provides a template in order to make it easy for busy arts administrators to get a letter off.

My plea to people is not to use those form letters. Even if you don’t think your senator or rep is ever going to read it, there are good reasons to send an original composition. My entry today is actually inspired by a form letter I received in response to my “NEA funding at work” letter. It was signed by an aide who said he would speak to his boss about my missive but the generic tone made me think he says that to all the boys. I could see why it might be tempting to send a template based letter if that is all you could expect in return. With that in mind, I thought it important to say Don’t Do It!

First, you shouldn’t do it because the granting organization put some effort into securing those funds to pass along to you so you owe them a little effort to help get the money next year. (Even if you just spent hair pulling hours filling out interminable final report forms.) It doesn’t take too many people in one district sending in letters before even a lowly intern recognizes that there is a template involved. The effort appears insincere and weakens the case for funding in the future.

Secondly, even if people aren’t reading your letters, investing the time writing something real helps you hone your advocating skills on behalf of your organization. This practice is doubly important for people who feel they don’t write well. It is good practice communicating in a serious situation and if you can’t express what is important about your organization to your senator, you probably aren’t doing a good job telling your story in press releases.

The truth is, even if you are getting form letters from your congressman, you never know who is reading them. If you tell a compelling story about why a performance was important to members of the community, you are often telling your delegate why the funding is important to them. A year ago I did an entry on advocacy after seeing Jonathan Katz from the National Assembly of State Arts Agencies speak.

One of the ideas he communicated that I paraphrased was:

“…telling decision makers how helping you will help them. It will come as no surprise that public figures welcome any opportunity to maintain their position by helping their constituencies and increasing their visibility. Everyone essentially wants to be seen as doing good. If their help will help you to empower kids, then show them how it can be done.

People want to be loved so if they care about you or if you affect someone who they care about, then chances are they want to do something to sustain that affection.”

I know writing a good letter can divert one from the thousand other details demanding one’s time. The value in making you a sharper communicator in your advocacy and showing your delegates concrete benefits of the funding may ultimately be more worth your while than spending the same time pouring over balance sheets.

Management Philosophy

No Comments

I’m So Very Special

May 10, 2006

by:

Joe Patti

As I drove around last evening pondering my entry on Cool As Hell Theatre podcast’s rules for actors, I began to see connections and implications associated with an article I recently read. Salon.com reporter Andrew O’Hehir did a book review of Hello, I’m Special by Hal Niedzviecki. (You have to either subscriber or watch a short ad to read the article.) The book essentially posits that there is a rising expectation by individuals that they are deserving and able to achieve far more than 15 minutes of fame.

“That’s his argument in a nutshell: Those of us who grew up in the post-industrial, pop-culture-saturated West (and a whole lot of people who didn’t) have been raised to believe that we are unique individuals with special destinies…

Stuffed with half-baked philosophies of self-actualization and self-fulfillment, we also believe that we are ourselves primarily or even solely responsible for reaching that destiny…”

Quoting auditioners at a Canadian Idol cattle-call:

“Anyone can become what they want to be,” says 16-year-old Brooke. “If you really want to make it there’s always a way,” says Billy, a 20-year-old house painter.

Even the 7,000 or so aspirants who don’t make the first cut refuse to act daunted. “This isn’t the last of me,” one rejected girl tells Niedzviecki. “I know I’m going to be a star. The only person who can make your dreams not come true is yourself.” To stop believing in your own specialness, no matter what the evidence, would be to violate the creed of the new conformism. Furthermore, if you fail to realize your dreams — the same “shared, colonized, implanted” dreams millions of other people are chasing — the fault must be yours…

The end product of the “new-conformist society steeped in pop,” he writes, is a solitary “citizen consumer” who is “passive, focused on the self, willing to work hard to buy the stuff that will make him stand out.” If his specialness continues to elude the rest of the world, he “blames himself and turns inward to therapy, image adjustment, altar consultation, yoga” and so on.

I actually read the exact same thing in regard to blaming oneself for not becoming famous in Time back in January in connection with the start of American Idol’s 5th season. (Subscription required)

The Salon review points out that people have worried about the issues Niedzviecki writes about for centuries already. I wonder what the impact the preception of easy fame might have on the performing arts and their associated training programs. I bet seeing a relatively untrained person go from audition to finals in the course of a few months has already seen a rise in people getting off the bus in NYC and LA with stars in their eyes.

There have always been a lot of people entering training programs with unrealistic expectations about their careers to follow. I imagine that there might be even more people entering programs thinking they are playing it smart getting trained. After all if the untrained can gain the support and adulation of the nation by making it into the top ten, imagine how much easier it will be for you when you plunk down $50,000 to get the best teaching, training and coaching.

I would be interested to know if anyone associated with a training program or even a performing arts organization has seen a rise in either numbers of students/auditioners/applicants, etc with completely unrealistic conception of how easily success will come to them. (I know educators on all levels have a variation of this problem with students and parents who believe unique specialness warrants everyone in class getting the same grade.)

I would extend the same question in regard to attitude/perception. Perhaps there aren’t significantly more people appearing on your door, but do the ones you are interacting with believe their route will be shorter with less dues to pay/shorter time performing for peanuts than they had in the past?

I wonder if high expectations and low tolerance for disappointment is going to rob the arts of some real great talent that doesn’t give itself time to develop and come into its own. On the other hand, if training programs can tap into the whole idea that failure is personal responsibility, they might be able to get people to apply themselves.

Though as the article implies, if they don’t succeed swiftly enough, they are apt to jump from remedy to remedy in an attempt to gain what seems to come so easily to the Everyman on television.

General Musings

No Comments

Cool As Hell Actors

May 9, 2006

by:

Joe Patti

I don’t have a lot of time for the entry I had in mind for today so I in the interests of doing something shorter, I point once again over to Michael Rice at Cool As Hell Theatre. He recently made a podcast about the 10 Laws of Being A Good Actor. They are certainly his personal laws and not always something your acting teacher will tell you. That is what makes them so great. You aren’t going to learn how to be a great actor from his 15 minute podcast. He makes some observations I have never heard anyone make and does it from the point of view of a seasoned actor smacking novices upside the head for being silly and self-absorbed.

This is not to say everything he says is equally good. His suggestion about breaking the 4th wall during an audition might backfire on an actor depending on how someone interprets his advice and how the casting people envision the proper way to audition.

His advice about preparing for and executing an audition is fairly sound–especially his point about not sabotaging yourself by apologizing or sighing about your performance. He does a good job of scolding of actors who aren’t flexible enough to briefly entertain other approaches and those who can’t graciously accept criticism.

The biggest thing Michael has going for him is the way he expounds upon his rules. He is fun, engaging and entertaining. Frankly, the biggest reason I keep coming back is to listen is his cool as hell standard intro to each podcast. (Though be warned his podcasts may contain language some might find offensive.)

Featured

No Comments

Discerning Your Critics

May 8, 2006

by:

Joe Patti

Ron Spigelman left a comment about a remark made in a story I linked to in my last entry. I was going to respond in a comment of my own, but the more I thought, the more my thoughts were turning into an entry.

The remark he took exception to was made by an opera student performing for elementary school kids who said “Hopefully, by performing for children, it will be a learning experience and I can take that away to perform for discerning critics.”

When I first read the story, I thought it was an unfortunate thing to say because of what it implied about children and their ability to make judgements about opera. And it played into the sterotype (perhaps deserved) that opera people are snobs. Children are discerning. They just use different criteria than adults. (See telling an important story vs. tattling, 3rd para. last week entry.)

The remark also reminded me immediately of an episode of the Bravo channel’s Top Chef show. One episode the chefs were told that they were going to prepare food for some of the most discerning eaters around–kids at a Boys and Girls Club. (The host used essentially those terms which is why I immediately made the connection with the CNN article.) The chefs were split into two teams and told they would be preparing competing dishes using monkfish.

Monkfish is not the most attractive looking fish as you can see from the preceding link. The producers of the show played on that by bringing one out, showing the kids and telling them this was what they were about to eat. As you might imagine, there was a resounding “EWWWWWWWWWW.”

The chefs thought about what presentation might be most appealing to the children. One team came up with “monkey dogs,” pureed monkfish given hot dog shapes and the other turned the fish into nuggets. As I recall, one of the teams colored their applesauce purple to make it appealing to the kids.

What put one team over the top was that they went out and interacted with the kids while they were eating. Only one member of the other team did while his teammates hung back viewing the interaction as pandering to the kids. One of them even commented something to the effect that she wouldn’t do the monkfish interpretive dance.

I admit there might have been a little pandering and politicking for the votes they needed for the win on the part of the one team. But chatting with the kids also served to help them get past the fact they were eating an ugly looking fish. In the same manner, arts organizations can help patrons get past awkward situations via interactions that answer questions and allay concerns.

Heck, as much as I don’t know about opera, I would rather attend a performance than to be asked to pick out an appropriate wine for a meal. A restaurant with an empathetic and patient sommelier is gonna see a lot of me.

Arts opportunities for school kids isn’t just important because it may create a situation where 30 years down the road they may walk in our doors. Kids are willing to talk a whole lot more about what their experience and what they do and don’t understand than adults are. In 30 years they will not only be comfortable going to events, they will be comfortable asking questions about things they don’t understand–If someone talked to them when they were young and encouraged them to do so.

I don’t remember exactly who the group was, but I once had a touring childrens’ theatre company come through a place I worked that did a great job with the Q & A session after the show. Performers like these folks get the same questions every show they do: “How come he was so mean?,” “I liked the feathers on your costume,” “What’s Your Name?” “How old are you?” “How do you remember all those lines?”

I stepped in during the last performance they were doing and a 10-12 year old girl mentioned she liked that one of the characters showed signs of turning over a new leaf at the end of the show. The company could have thanked her for the comment and moved on. Instead, one of the actors asked her why it was important to her that he looked like he might change after all the terrible things he had done. The discussion between them started to move into the topics of redemption and forgiveness.

The play was about bullying so I can see why the message that bullies can change their behavior and their victims should be forgiving might be important. What really impressed me was that the girl was asked why that bit of the plot was important to her and that she was given the power to direct the dialogue and state her views on how the world should be rather than the actors coming out with a blanket statement that it is important to forgive and bullies should try to change.

Unfortunately, I didn’t realize why I was impressed by the interaction until afer they left so I never got a chance to ask if they always lead discussions in that manner or if it was a happy coincidence. I prefer to think it was planned, of course, and that they would have tackled whatever topic the girl felt was important.

Granted, it takes a skilled person to interact well with young people. While they are willing to discuss their views readily enough, getting them to do so without sounding condescending can be difficult. Just as the chefs had to find a way to prepare monkfish differently for kids than adults, artists have to figure out the best way to approach kids. Revising your approach doesn’t necessarily mean you are pandering or dumbing down your product. You can color applesauce purple and it isn’t any less nutritious and if you leave the cinnamon and sugar out, coloring it purple isn’t going to make it taste any better.

On the flip side, the questions kids and teenagers ask and the comments they make can provide insight into the general areas adults may have difficulty understanding but aren’t asking about.

Audience Relations

No Comments