So I am of mixed feelings today. Yesterday, the last place I worked enthusiastically welcomed the news that I would return for two weeks to help them run this year’s festival thereby confirming that my skills are indeed valued. But I also got a letter from Wayne State saying they are hiring someone else for the position which, of course, introduces doubts to my mind.

One thing I didn’t mention before-when I got to Detroit, I learned the woman who had held the position for three years was applying for the job as well. Apparently it was an instructor position and was being made a tenure position so she had to re-apply. At the time, I was a little annoyed at not having been told that because I wasn’t sure I would have agreed to fly out knowing I was challenging an incumbent. But I also knew it didn’t matter. These people had flown me out, fed me and had set a lot of time aside so I could discuss a topic about which I was passionate. (No, not myself, arts management!) Overall, I figure I got a pretty good deal.

This conflicted state of mind seemed like a good springboard for introducing today’s topic—My criticisms of the arts. Last week I mentioned all the reasons why I still possess an idealistic attachment for the arts and what I do and why I would seriously consider returning to work for idiots who fired me. This week I want to talk about the detrimental aspects of this thing I love so much.

I have often felt guilty that I perceived the people I worked with and for had the wrong attitude. They worked hard and were trying their best with limited resources. Who was I, as someone relatively new to the arts, to judge their outlook? However, emboldened by the remarks I read by Penelope McPhee at a retreat for symphony orchestras funded by the Knight Foundation, and having accumulated a decade or so more experience, I have to say I still think they were wrong. So, I am taking this opportunity to level some general criticisms about the state of the arts.

First of all, I would highly recommend reading the speech. Though I have a habit of quoting half an article in my entries, I am going to try to abstain from doing so here. Right from the beginning of her speech, she said something that resonated with me.

“Today, I would argue vehemently that communities don’t need an orchestra just for the sake of saying they have an orchestra. The mere existence of an orchestra in a community does not contribute to its vitality. Communities need vibrant, relevant orchestras that give meaning to people’s weary, humdrum lives.

I am increasingly convinced that orchestras that are not relevant to their communities do not contribute to their health and vitality. And I’ll go even further � the more orchestras peel off three to four percent of an economically elite, racially segregated fraction of the community, the more they’ll be part of the problem instead of part of the solution.

The caliber of the playing, the renown of the conductor, the architecture of the world-class hall mean little or nothing if the sound doesn’t resonate throughout the community.”

A little further on she says:

But if you agree with me, and accept this as your mission, you first have to fundamentally change your attitude toward your audience. You have to stop blaming them and start looking inside your institutions for answers.

From my perspective as an outsider who loves the music but is not an expert, I’d argue that for the most part, orchestras have nothing but disdain for their audiences. The whole notion that doing it differently is “dumbing it down” is disdainful. The attitude you communicate to us audience members is that you’re doing us a favor to let us pay for you to play what you want to play. You want us to pay our money and eat our spinach because it’s good for us.

Not only do you want us to eat the spinach, but you want us to choose it over ice cream every time; you want us to eat it in your restaurant at 8 p.m.; you want us to like it the way you’ve seasoned it. And, God knows, you want us to eat it pure, not in a souffle or a salad.

And, oh yes, if we’ve never eaten spinach before, we’re barely worth serving it to anyway, because if we’ve gone this long without tasting it, we must be rubes anyway and we’ll never appreciate it.

So if we’re going to be serious about serious change, we first have to get serious about this question of mission.

This essentially goes to my biggest complaint about the arts world. The “Field of Dreams” expectation that if you perform or present it, people will and should come. Yes, I have been absolutely guilty of the type of thinking I quote above. (It is especially easy to think everyone is a cretin when you are doing a job search!) Yes, I absolutely think that the arts possess incredible value for people’s lives. But I have empathy for the “great unwashed.” I don’t believe everything performed is of interest or significance to me. I feel intimidated going to gallery openings and symphonies–and I know some of the rules. (I play follow the leader to avoid clapping between movements, but still have no idea how to tell the end of a movement from the end of a piece.)

Of course, the Field of Dreams view doesn’t only apply to attendance, but funding as well. I have worked for organizations who lost the faith of thier audiences and launched huge “save us” campaigns. I know that a desire to keep ones job factors into it, but I think it is rather egotistical to expect foundations and governmental bodies to bail you out because you have mended your ways and may possess the potential to contribute something of value to your community again.

On the other hand, I have been employed by organizations who have worked for 5-7 years to develop solid relationships with foundations and politicans. I am not talking about throwing a lot of money at them and wine and dine schmoozing, but painstakingly proving oneself over time. When the organization gets a sizable chunk of funding, smaller organizations cry foul and write editorials saying we were favored because we were the big kid on the block.

Yes, this is essentially true. When you are a small, volunteer run organization, you can’t expect to get the money an institution with a full time development director can get. In many cases, those smaller organizations are getting funded at a much higher ratio to the effort they expended securing the money than my organization was. There are a lot of arts organizations out there working damn hard for what they get and they have very few assets with which to grease palms.

There is no god given right for every arts organization to exist. Everyone has the freedom to give it a try, but it doesn’t mean people have to come see your shows or pay for you to stay open. You can decry the soulless commercialism of the place across town and do avant garde stuff, and the more power to you. You just need to be aware that there are consequences for every decision. You may have to work harder to attract audiences and suffer being labeled as obscene.

I interviewed at a place this fall that didn’t have its own performing spaces and instead presented in churches and outdoors. They were still held in a higher regard than the theatre companies that had their own stages. The theatre companies all competed tooth and nail with each other, insisting that each remain autonomous rather than uniting to focus their energies to achieving common goals.

I used to blame the non-profit system. The fact that non-profits were placed in a position of having to compete for funding to get the majority of their money from unearned revenue. But I realized community service was becoming an increasingly smaller concern for many organizations as they focussed more and more on just keeping the doors open. It might almost be better if some of them became for profit. Although, there is the danger of finding box office receipts unchanged regardless of classification. Audiences seldom make entertainment decisions based on tax status.

I don’t have any easy answers for combatting these perceptions of audiences and each other. Certainly improved empathy and communication will be essential elements in any solution. McPhee’s speech makes some suggestions, but I don’t think they will completely resolve the problem.

For all the critical aspects of Ms. McPhee’s speech that I agree with, there were also some observations in which I saw some hope. She comments:

“But newspaper journalists, decrying diminishing subscribers, worry that the democracy is at risk because people aren’t getting the news – from them.

Orchestras, being mostly led by tyrants, aren’t concerned with the death of democracy. But they do believe the very fabric of Western Civilization is at risk if people don’t get classical music – from them…

…They’re confusing the content with the delivery system. In fact, people are getting much more news, much more quickly, than ever before. The difference is that the content is coming from lots of different places, and newspapers no longer own the franchise.

The solution she suggests, may be found by emulating newspaper’s who now offer both print and internet access to their stories.

And here’s another important parallel. They’ve given up on the crossover idea. They are no longer expecting readers who get their news on the Net to decide to subscribe to the traditional paper. The Internet news is not a marketing tool for the “real thing.” They have thousands of new readers for the “new thing.” I hope if Magic of Music does nothing else, it will put to rest the idea of crossover and adopt the idea that we can sell multiple products to multiple audiences.

To me, one of the promising findings of the market segmentation research it demonstrates is that there’s a vast potential audience of living, breathing individuals with different – but real – connections to the art form and to our orchestras. These aren’t uninformed rubes who need us to show them the light. Neither are they look-alike, think-alike mannequins receiving the Canon as dictated by us. These are individuals who make purposeful and highly personal decisions. Some of them have actually tested our product and found it wanting. The question is are we listening to the very clear signals they’re sending. And, are we willing and able to let go of our prejudices and respond to the message in diverse and innovative ways?

For me, these data validate everything we’ve been trying to accomplish in the Magic of Music. They tell us unequivocally that whether we want to strengthen, deepen or broaden ties to the orchestra, we need to do something fundamentally different than what we’ve done before. We need to put everything – repertoire, musical genres, ensemble configurations, venues, performance times, guest artists – everything, on the table for review and negotiation. The data also makes it clearer than ever before that there is no one solution. No magic bullet. Different folks need different strokes. And we must be nimble, flexible and open enough to allow for that.”

And a little further on

“I believe wholeheartedly in that mission, and I do not believe for a minute that listening to audiences is pandering or diminishes quality. I think it’s just good business.”

This was very reminiscent of the portion of the “Cultural Development in Creative Communities” monograph I excerpted last week. I had cited it because it counseled different strategies for different communities (as McPhee’s does here).

I also stated some concern for the idea that arts organizations had to diversify their services and offerings. Part of my concern was (and still is) that by offering a little bit of everything, organizations would do no one thing with a level of excellence. Part of this was a fear that people’s view of the arts not be debased.

I was also concerned that by answering the expectations of the community, arts institutions would diverge from what funders expected of them. I was encouraged by Ms. McPhee’s speech because it showed that a funder not only understood this was a trend for the future, it also encouraged organizations to embrace the changing times.

So there you go. My candor may not be helping my employment prospects, but the mission of my blog is to provide solutions. The only way to do that is to recognize some problems to comtemplate and discuss.

The entries over the last couple days have been about me and my family so I decided to get back to researching and exploring implications. Turning to my “Good Ideas” file, I found a monograph co-authored by the Artful Manager, Andrew Taylor for Americans for the Arts, “Cultural Development In Creative Communities.” The monograph discusses how cities are attempting to revitalize themselves by attracting the “Creative Class” described by Richard Florida. Right from the beginning they warned against trying to exactly replicate strategies that other communities had successfully employed . Since I had railed against this in an earlier entry, I was glad to see the injunction so prominently placed.

Something near the end of the paper (page 8) caught my interest. In discussing the evolution of arts and culture in communities, the authors wrote:

“Some have already noted a dark side to the positioning opportunity engendered by Florida’s book: conflicts among major institutions and cultural facilities, small arts organizations, individual artists, and the formal and informal arts as each vies for a piece of this new – or re-made – pie.

This struggle is not new to the cultural development field. Our definition of culture has steadily broadened as the field-including major institutions�has reached out to informal, participatory, neighborhood, and community based arts to embrace them as vital components of a local cultural ecosystem.

Audience research suggests that cultural consumers aren’t very interested in boundaries either, but freely graze as cultural omnivores among a range of choices from country music to opera, bead work to Cezanne, experimental film to the latest DVDs.

As we broaden the definition of cultural activity there is no need�and, in fact, great harm�in defining out existing institutions, audiences, and supporters.”

This monograph provided additional insight to my earlier ponderings about the next evolution in the ways Americans will experience arts and culture. Their assertion seems to be borne out in the trends written on in newspaper and journal articles. What I am reading indicates that the transition to this new format may be rather uncomfortable and since I am trying to eke out an existence in the arts, that worries me.

One of the biggest impacts will apparently be in funding. In a different entry entitled “What About Discussing ‘Worst’ Practices”, Andrew Taylor talks about how important rosy results are to attaining funding:

“Given our funding structure, our advocacy efforts, and our culture of feeling constantly under seige, we seem to lack an open place to discuss what we do wrong. Almost every foundation report I read about a funded project carries good news (underserved audiences were reached, goals were achieved, worlds were changed)….Unfortunately, the system we’ve established has a bias toward vaguely positive spin. Anyone receiving a major grant, and hoping to get another one someday, will want to show how wonderfully they managed the project and the cash. Most publicly promoted research on the benefits of the arts is prepared and presented by organizations with a direct financial stake in showing those connections.”

In a Newsweek article, Douglas McLennan made some related comments on arts funding:

“But for a decade now, public arts agencies that should have been promoting the best artistic vision have instead been following behind the public, trying to find a denominator that, if not lowest, is most common. The arts are not most common. The arts ought to lead. Public arts funding is important�for better or worse, money is how government signals what it thinks is important. ”

What happens when things change? How do you track who is being served when people make their attendance decisions at the last moment when it is most difficult to collect data about them? Does grant reporting move further into the territory of outright lying? Do funders need to change the criteria by which they evaluate programs they underwrite?

Since it costs more to attract new people than it does to retain existing audiences, how are arts organizations going to remain financially sound when attracting new audience members consumes so much more money?

What of the missions of organizations as strictly defining oneself becomes more of a libability as the monograph suggests? Does the focus of arts organizations become so diverse that they dabble in a little of everything in order to attract the widest base, but do no one thing well?

While I think a situation close to what the monograph suggests is inevitable, I don’t think things will be as grim as my questions imply. (Though certainly many of the questions will prove to be pitfalls for some organizations.)

I do think that it is important right now to change the criteria that foundations and granting organizations use in determining who will receive their support. This will be especially true for governmental support. If public art support lags behind as Mr. McLennan suggests, it would not be surprising to see a handful of change resistant arts institutions begin the thrive for a short time as governments reward them for conforming with their views. Disaster would probably follow as the government support was suddenly shifted to catch up with the new public values.

A campaign to gradually shift the expectations of funders to reflect the changing reality of arts and culture would reduce the consequences of support lagging too far behind the trend. It might be good if the new reporting procedures valued institutional self-education and growth and required providing information on successes and failures. Open recognition of areas of weakness would allow organizations more freedom to mobilize their staff to address them. (Rather than exerting effort to mask problems for fear of losing funding.) Discussing these problems at conferences will also help others to avoid them and can make use of the assembled brain power to create solutions for those who face them.

On the other hand, technology may make this whole funding structure obsolete. It is becoming increasingly possible to track individuals by the signals cell phones, etc. give off. Is the ability to accurately assess the complete background of every person being served by a theatre, symphony, pottery class and poetry reading too far off?

The frightening Big Brother implications aside, wouldn’t knowing so much more about one’s audience help to serve them better? As long as a new funding system didn’t reward people in direct proportion to the number of transponders which entered the doors, technology may have some promising implications for better audience relations and the distribution of funds.