I have been writing Butts in the Seats (BitS) on topics of arts and cultural administration since 2004 (yikes!). Given the ever evolving concerns facing the sector, I have yet to exhaust the available subject matter. In addition to BitS, I am a founding contributor to the ArtsHacker (artshacker.com) website where I focus on topics related to boards, law, governance, policy and practice.
I am also an evangelist for the effort to Build Public Will For Arts and Culture being helmed by Arts Midwest and the Metropolitan Group. (http://www.creatingconnection.org/about/)
My most recent role is as Theater Manager at the Rialto in Loveland, CO
Among the things I am most proud are having produced an opera in the Hawaiian language and a dance drama about Hawaii's snow goddess Poli'ahu while working as a Theater Manager in Hawaii. Though there are many more highlights than there is space here to list.
We are constantly told about the hazards of inputting sensitive personal data into unsecure websites. That is pretty much what you are doing when you provide information to an AI bot and ask them to create something for you. For this reason there are some significant concerns associated with using AI to write annual reviews and evaluations. Anything you provide the AI is being used to train the AI to do a better job and has the possibility of being retrieved by third parties.
I recently had a post on ArtsHacker discussing these issues in greater detail. In that post I note using AI for annual reviews is a viable option as long as you steer clear of identifiable information like names, don’t reference things like medical conditions, or use discriminatory language related to protected classes like age, race, national origin, etc.
Tickets and programs had a life measured in terms of the dates of performance. Once the date had passed and the show run completed, tickets and programs had no value. Except in terms of a remembrance of time spent and a record of who contributed to the creation of the show. As Sincox writes, saving those tickets and programs as memorabilia has been practiced for 400-500 years.
But the move to digital delivery on tickets means there isn’t anything to save unless you specifically request to pick up tickets at will call or choose to print at home. Sincox notes that some ticketing services like TodayTix don’t deliver tickets to their app on your phone until 24 hours prior to the show time and then disappear at midnight of the show day.
As for programs, Covid saw an elimination in their use and the post-pandemic period has seen their diminished use as venues trend away from them. Even the vaunted Playbill program one gets at Broadway shows and other venues across the US was impacted as never before in its history:
Playbill’s presses ceased operations between March 2020 and August 2021 for the first time since the magazine’s 1884 founding. As Playbill’s editors reminded readers in the first postvaccine issue, the magazine had not stopped for two world wars, for Y2K, or for anything in between….After August 2021, many theaters made Playbill accessible via QR codes scanned in the lobby, much like the now-ubiquitous virtual restaurant menu
All this being said, Sincox observes near the end of the article that delivery of tickets and program content virtually still has its shortcomings. As a venue manager, I can attest that her struggles in retrieving her tickets on her phone is a common occurrence across the nation, if not the world. In the end, a good many attendees depend on the availability of the ticket office to print hard copies of their tickets so that they and their friends may share an enjoyable experience.
Seth Godin recently wrote about how, as an MBA student at Stanford, he went into an interview with the CEO of Activision waving a Harvard Business Review (HBR) article and claiming Activision was in danger of succumbing to the Marketing myopia described in the article. Godin says he was just about to be thrown out of the CEO’s office when someone came in waving a report that Activision had 9 of the top 10 video games on sale at the time.
By the time the CEO came back to his office, he forgot why he was angry with Godin and offered him the job. But Godin said the time he spent cooling his heels convinced him he was right about Activision being too focused on making games for the Atari console.
Godin tells this story as an introduction to a HBR piece he wrote about strategy myopia His main point is that strategy deals with uncomfortable uncertainty based on questions about what the future may hold based on how technology, society, and other factors are unfolding. The tactics and plans a company embrace need to derive from the strategy, which again, holds no concrete promises.
In part this myopia comes from what we expect from a new strategy. Strategy is not a plan. A plan might come with a guarantee: “If we do this, we win.” A strategy, on the other hand, comes with the motto: “This might not work.” Strategy is a philosophy of becoming, a chance to create the conditions to enable the change we seek to make in the world.
When the boss demands a strategy that comes with certainty and proof, we’re likely to settle for a collection of chores, tasks, and tactics, which is not the same as an elegant, resilient strategy. To do strategy right, we need to lean into possibility.
What really caught my attention was a passage that echoes the on going conversation about arts marketing being focused on the product being sold rather than the audience/consumer. (my emphasis)
Strategy myopia occurs when we fail to identify who we seek to serve, and focus on what we seek to produce instead. Empathy gives us a strategic advantage.
A tactical, short-term focus is based on the past. We can try to defend the machines and processes already in place, working to maximize the assets we’ve got. Or we can visualize the customer and serve their needs as the world changes.
[…]
Empathy begins with the humility to acknowledge that you don’t know what others know, want what they want, or believe what they believe … and that’s okay. If we’re not prepared to move to where our customers are hoping to go, it’s unlikely that they’ll care enough to adopt what we care about.
A year ago I wrote about how the musicians of the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony were blindsided by the organization declaring bankruptcy. There had been no communication prior to the declaration indicating there were any financial concerns. Indeed, the symphony had negotiated a pay increase with the musicians a month earlier.
Last week there was news that the organization was emergingfrom bankruptcy. From what I have read this seems to have been a result of creditors forgiving their debt rather than an immense fundraising campaign so the future of the organization remains to be seen. There will be a few concerts performed at a church to close out 2024.
A column in the Waterloo Regional Record cited the board chair, Bill Poole’s, belief that it may be some time before the organization returns to offering a full series of concerts with their former complement of musicians:
Poole acknowledges that the previous setup, in which 52 instrumental musicians were full-time employees, might not be deemed viable in the future. It isn’t clear yet what that working relationship will look like.
The musicians will have work, he said, and there will be concerts starting in early 2025 for which the symphony will pay them. But right now, the musicians don’t have steady jobs.
He can’t say if there will be a 2025-26 season that music lovers can subscribe to, nor if the concerts will happen at Centre in the Square, which was originally built for that orchestra.
Poole acknowledged there is a lot of trust to be earned back. I imagine that is the case with both the audience and the musicians. Though according to Poole, the musicians invested a lot of effort into helping to restore the orchestra to its current footing, precarious as it may be, including helping to recruit new board members.
The musicians raised nearly $500,000 Canadian through GoFundMe to produce their own series of concerts, support the unemployed musicians, and provide legal services.
The National Endowment for the Arts recently released the arts related results of the Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey. Unlike the Survey on Public Participation in the Arts (SPPA) which asks people about their behavior across the previous 12 months, the Pulse Survey asks about people’s behavior in the previous 30 days. They say this provides greater detail of the rate at which people are engaging with arts related activities post-Covid. The Pulse survey was conducted between April – July 2024.
In addition to asking people how often they engaged in arts attendance and arts creation and their perception of the availability of arts and cultural amenities in their community, the Pulse Survey specifically asked new questions related to loneliness and social connection. The data shows the response of attendees, creators, non-attendees, and non-creators to questions about participation in social clubs/activities, phone conversations with family and friends, and spending time with family and friends.
I was somewhat perplexed that they did not address how age and other demographic factors may have impacted whether people spoke on the phone with family and friends as they did with other categories. They only broke down the results in terms of attendees vs non-attendees and creators vs. non-creators.
In terms of loneliness and social support, for the most part those that attended events experienced less loneliness than non-attendees and creators experienced it less than non-creators. Similarly, those who perceived themselves as having access to arts activities also felt loneliness less than those who perceived themselves as having low or no access.
However, there was a noted exception in the creator category:
Adults who created art were more likely to report experiencing loneliness “sometimes” or “rarely” (31.9 and 34.7 percent, respectively) than were those who had not created art (27.2 and 32.2 percent, respectively). However, at least some level of loneliness proved more familiar to creators of art than to non-creators. That is, 18.4 percent of those who created art in the last month reported “never” experiencing loneliness, versus 27.3 percent of those who did not create art.
There were somewhat similar results related to feeling social and emotional support. Those who attended or created art or those who felt they had high access to arts resources felt a greater level of support than those who didn’t attend, create or have access to resources.
Again there was a difference on the absolute end of the scale among creatives (my emphasis)
Adults who created art were more likely to say they usually received social support than those who did not create art (38.8 percent compared to 30.2 percent for non-creators “usually” receiving support). Arts creators were also less likely to say they never received support (4.1 percent versus 10.1 percent of non-creators). However, non-creators were more likely to say they “always” receive social and emotional support than were arts creators (28.8 percent of creators versus 24.6 percent of non-creators).
While I have some theories bumping around my head, I am not exactly sure what all the implications of that might be. On a very basically level of course, the creative act will always require a degree of loneliness associated with it. Even if you are in a large orchestra, there is a lot of time spent practicing alone. Even in a small music group the folks writing the words and lyrics may feel isolated from other members of the group. And the creative who hasn’t felt they don’t have social and emotional support for their endeavors are few indeed.
The chapter addressed the value of data to museums, but I was obviously approaching it from the perspective of the value of data for all sorts of organizations. Falk mentioned many museums aren’t really clear about what to measure. They often don’t understand what data points matter most to their organization.
He acknowledged most institutions don’t have the resources to have a data focused team on staff or engage an entity to help them collect and manage their data. He felt there must be a collective effort through some of the larger museum service and advocacy institutions to collect some of this data. Though at the same time, individual entities must work on collecting data that is specifically relevant to their communities.
A person attending the session asked how organizations can survive and thrive executive leadership transitions. Falk’s response was that middle managers needed to identify the data that is most persuasive to leadership, not just colleagues and one’s self. He noted that the financial bottom line is often the most persuasive factor for executive leadership so you often have to show how your ideas and data will advance that concern.
This suggestion gave me a little pause because it felt like it reinforces short term goals over long term changes to culture that will have impact. One of the real issues facing both commercial and non-profit entities is the adoption of the flavor of the week. This also seemed to advocate for catering to the HiPPO in room (Highest Paid Person’s Opinion).
I am not sure that Falk was advocating for catering to the highest paid person’s opinion because the conversation soon turned to the need to break down internal organizational silos. People mentioned that often data is difficult to acquire because internal parties gatekeep access to it. Falk said that leadership is responsible for opening access to data across the organization both in the direction of top down, from the bottom up, and internal to each department pressing to de-silo that information. There is a need to share data and understand each other’s data.
When asked what the most desirable qualities of a museum leader were, Falk said it was a degree of numeracy. He said people didn’t need to be statisticians or a data wonk, but needed to at least appreciate the value of data in decision making. Ideally they should have some ability to analyze and employ data. Discussing an example from his book where someone thought the most important knowledge set for a museum executive was art history, Falk said you can hire people who know art history but as an executive leader you need to know how to work with data.
He also felt it was important for a leader to have the capacity and judgment to hire staff who possessed the people skills to serve an audience. Museum success is all about people after all so you need a staff which is adept at creating a welcoming environment for attendees.
As much as the conversation for the session revolved around data, Falk emphasized the value of co-creation with the community. He said you can build an exhibition designed to achieve certain learning objectives and it might meet those objectives. However, it is far, far, far better to go to the community and say we can create an exhibition around X subject or concept, what would you want this exhibit to help you learn about this subject? While this is much more time and labor intensive, Falk felt that the outcomes are far greater when the end user is involved with the co-creation.
I felt like this really dovetailed well with my post yesterday about the length and content of labels in museum exhibits. One of the final passages I quoted from the article mentioned that museum staff would observe how people interacted with labels and question them about whether they derived the information they wanted from the labels. I think that is probably a good practice regardless, but it might not be necessary to revise the labels so much if some of the target audience had provided input about desired outcomes of an exhibition.
Ruth Hartt had reposted an Observer debating what sort of information and how much makes for a good museum label. It immediately occurred to me that this can be a tall order based on the fact that museum visitors may have different agenda every time they enter the doors. Thinking about the types of museum attendees discussed by John Falk, people may be coming to explore one day, facilitate friends and family another day, approach the experience through a more professional lens the next time, or just want to unwind and recharge.
My thoughts went to the Axios.com site which uses Zoom In, Zoom Out, and Go Deeper sub-heads in many of their articles. I thought that might be a good format so that people could decide how much detail they wanted about an object. However, there were people interviewed for the Observer article who not only thought less is more, in some cases they advocated that nothing is more.
Ours is a literate culture rather than a visual one, and “there is a comfort in reading a label,” Gary Vikan, former director of the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, told Observer. “You are offered facts that are very relatable, whereas artworks themselves aren’t so easily contained. Labels are a left-brain experience, while art is experiential and not a test of knowledge. In my world, people wouldn’t need the damn label at all.”
[…]
“Every year, I take my students to the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia, which doesn’t provide any labels for artworks on display,” James Pawelski, director of education at Penn’s Positive Psychology Center, told Observer. “There is no intermediary between the viewer and the art, so students have to deal directly with the art.” He is not opposed to labels per se, but like many others, Pawleski has something to say about the many museum placards he sees. “You don’t want the label to take away the mystery of the artwork, what makes it interesting and inspiring. That’s why I prefer labels that help people become immersed in a work of art.”
Some of those that do use labels engage in a lengthy creation and editing process that spans different departments, acknowledging that museum professionals are so close to their work they often use insider terminology or emphasize aspects that appeal to professionals rather than the lay person.
At Atlanta’s High Museum of Art, labels originate with a curator, “written with the assistance of curatorial research associates,” and are then passed to the Department of Museum Interpretation for a review of “clarity of narrative and messaging, tone of voice, reading level and word count,” Mekala Krishnan, the museum’s associate director of museum interpretation, told Observer. But they’re not done yet. “There is usually some back and forth between the curatorial and interpretation departments before it then gets passed to our editor, who is the final gatekeeper for formatting, spelling, grammar and punctuation, as well as for overall clarity….
Some institutions keep working on their labels even after they are installed, with staffers watching visitors as they move through galleries, timing how long they stand in front of any object and watching their eyes to see if they are reading more than looking. Visitors may be questioned about what they saw: “What did you take away from this exhibition?” or “What do you know now that you didn’t know before?” This is quite labor-intensive and expensive, but it may be the only way to know for certain if the label did its job.
The article goes much deeper into the nuance and considerations that factor into label design. There is a fair bit of overlap between the philosophy of what to include on museum labels and performer bios and performance notes for live events…not to mention promotional materials. It is worth reading the article even if you aren’t in the exhibit based world in order to gain something of a disinterested perspective you can apply to experiences you may offer to audiences.
People can drive around the farm land of Wisconsin to see various art installations and performances staged in the fields. The whole circuit is about 50 miles. Among the performances this year were the Hay Rake Ballet choreographing the movements of three tractors. There is video in the Hyperallergic article. It appears there may have been a line dancing component involved as well based on a call for participants on the Wormfarm site.
According to the choreographer Sarah Butler,
“It’s not every day that these farmers are driving and doing pirouettes with the tractors,” said Butler in an interview with Hyperallergic. “But nothing I was asking them to do was something they don’t do every day. It was really cool to see these three guys who are total masters of their craft being celebrated by their own community, as well as people visiting who are coming to see the DTour … for things they do every day that are oftentimes not really recognized as art.”
The concept behind Farm/Art D’tour is to raise awareness of the process by which food reaches people’s table and diminish perceptions that farmers and farming are disconnected from art. Based on the experience of one of the farmers participating in Hay Rake Ballet, he and some of his friends and neighbors are beginning to see that connection:
While some farmers refused to take part and one even backed out during rehearsals, Enge said he and his two fellow performers were exhilarated. “Seeing the joy in the other drivers and in the crowd … it really touched me.” On the drive home one of the other farmers told Enge, “Hey, if they’re going to do it again, count me in.”
There are some good images of some of the other projects in the Hyperallergic piece and on Wormfarm’s Facebook page.
At one of my previous positions, I had started a conversation with a local storytelling group about partnering on a curated storytelling series. This conversation happened a month before the outbreak of the pandemic. The series went on more or less as planned, albeit in a much larger space that allowed for social distancing. I credit that series with helping to breakdown perceptual barriers about our venue and who it as for and contributing to the further development of a relationship between under served segments of our community.
There are a number of rules for participation he outlines, but one of those appears to be key to the experience is:
And finally (this is important) everyone is asked not to share the story they think of when they hear the initial prompt (more on prompts below), but to listen carefully to the stories that come before theirs, and then to share a story that complements, complicates, contradicts, or otherwise responds to the stories they’ve heard so far.
Near the end Fink provides the following insight from his decade experience participating in story circles:
In a story circle, people who tend to dominate discussions learn to listen, knowing they’ll have their turn to speak and be heard; and people who tend to hold back find themselves speaking up, knowing that no one will interrupt or talk over them. At the end, when the group reflects together about the stories they’ve just heard, they inevitably discover elements of a “story in the center of the circle”–a story that they find, to their surprise, they all somehow share.
The rules and guidelines – and the facilitation guide makes a distinction between the two – are designed to achieve this sort of result where the garrulous listen and the introverted are allowed the space to speak.
In the middle of the article were a couple paragraphs that suggested the dividing line between artists and scientists isn’t as stark as described.
Beyond the usual example of Albert Einstein and other scientists have creative hobbies Levitin seems to suggest that the effort to establish a distinction between art and science may be based in a degree of discomfort with anything that might blur those lines. (my emphasis)
Good medicine relies on clinical judgment, refined through the same sort of trial and error and creative problem solving that artists and scientists use. Both the master physician and master baker must improvise. (Although the thought of a brain surgeon “improvising” may fill you with terror, it’s actually necessary, as neurosurgeon Theodore Schwartz explains. “Not only is the normal anatomy of every human variable, and unique, every tumour has its own configuration that distorts the landscape into which it has dug itself in a slightly different way. Inevitably, the reality we encounter differs from our expectations of what we thought we would find.”)
The most important distinction, then, isn’t in separating artists from scientists and doctors but in separating creative thinkers from formulaic ones, separating those who can tolerate uncertainty from those who cannot. Art, science, and medicine trade in doubt—and in its remedy, improvisation. Moreover, to be effective, the musician, the therapist, the scientist, and the physician must establish a rapport and a relationship of trust with people they may have never met.
Dave Wakeman’s appearance on Angela Meleca’s ARTS Redefined podcast was making the rounds of LinkedIn last week. One section in particular where Wakeman discussed his opposition to discounting caught my attention. (Starting at 27:10, the index in the video is way off for some reason)
Wakeman says people tell stories about themselves –what type of person they are, what value they have in the world. He says discounts do the exact opposite – it removes the value narrative and says you are a commodity and suggests you don’t believe in the value you are offering.
Wakeman recalls one of his marketing professors taught him that for every 1% you discount, you can lose up to 40% of your profit. Wakeman acknowledges it is an extreme example and the typical loss is around 10-11%. He cites additional research on the other side that shows for every 1% you raise your price, you gain 10-11% in profitability.
He says that the first time you discount, you might get good results but then people learn to wait for the discount. The better approach is to just recognize you set the price too high, change the price and continue with that new price.
Without naming names, Meleca gives Wakeman the example of an arts organization that makes all their tickets $11 with the expectation that people will enjoy the experience and come back again at a higher price.
This is clearly a reference to Opera Philadelphia’s $11 pay what you want campaign that was introduced at the end of August. I suspect the podcast episode must have been recorded around then because Wakeman doesn’t seem aware of this and I am reasonably confident I saw him comment on the story in early September.
I will say that based on Opera Philadelphia reported ticket revenue being generally 13% of their revenue, I don’t necessarily think they were depending on people returning at a much higher price point in the future. Fundraising is probably at the core of their plan to stay in the black.
Interestingly, Wakeman brings up a “not going to name name’s” example of a sports team that did the same thing. He characterizes the belief that people will come back at a higher price as just stupid. He says it is much tougher to raise a price when you have lowered it.
He goes into detail about the approach of just changing the price and how to communicate it in a way that is positive for you. Announcing a whole new block of seats at $20 Vs 20% off ticket price is a more constructive framing. The discount raises questions about the value of the show and how it is selling.
That said, I want to point out you can only do that so much. There were a lot of concerts this past summer where people had purchased tickets at $300 or more several months out only to find them selling at around $50 dollars a couple weeks out from the show. Based on what I saw unfold on regional concert venues this summer, I am pretty sure some of that is attributable to 3rd parties buying up all the tickets, ratcheting the price, and then trying to unload them when they wouldn’t sell.
Whether it was 3rd parties or the venue themselves, there were a lot of pissed off people making videos and comments on social media because their perception shifted from being smart for getting tickets early to being cheated of the hundreds or thousands of dollars difference between their purchase price and the current sale price.
Wakeman talks about this shift in perceived value in regard to discounting as well. He suggests having a strong data based process in place for price setting so that you have the best chance of creating an accurate price in the first place.
He says pegging it to the actual cost of presenting the show is bad because that often doesn’t align with perceived value.
Once you set the price, don’t be timid or apologize for it – promote it confidently and proudly.
Last month, the Bloemencorso Zundert, caught my attention. It is the largest flower parade in the world held in Zundert, Netherlands. Twenty hamlets compete to have their parade float judged as the best. Apparently, they only use dahlias are used in the Zundert parade and six of the nearly eight million flowers are cultivated in Zundert. The parade started in 1936 with 17 hamlets. The other three have joined more recently.
The entire effort appears to be volunteer run from the cultivation of the flowers, to the design, to the assembly of the flowers just days before the parade. Not to mention the movement – the floats tend to be human powered. If you look closely at some of the videos below, you can see the feet of the people acting as the internal engines. The webpage for the event translates relatively well into English.
Being a Tolkien fan, a video of the Khazad-Dum float is what had initially caught my attention and led me to do some further investigation of the event.
One of those asked to respond was Everette Taylor, CEO of Kickstarter, a site that has essentially become the alternative to foundations, governments, and institutional funders as a funding source for creative projects.
He says a partnership with Skoll Foundation, Mellon Foundation, and Creative Capital to provide $700,000 in funding to 600 BIPOC creators helping them raise $11.7 million.
“In recent research, still unpublished, Kickstarter creators report earning $5.15 in additional revenue from each dollar raised on Kickstarter. That places the total estimated economic impact of the $700,000 fund at close to $70,000,000, a 100x return on that cultural investment.”
That data comes from one of his recommendations about making funding to creatives more accessible, especially for smaller scale projects. Part of that includes making it easier for people to apply with fewer strings and follow up reporting burden attached.
His second recommendation is about strengthening community among art makers by providing some infrastructure for creating networks and sharing work, and encouraging cross-pollination and collaboration.
His third recommendation referenced changing the definition of art making, including who gets to participate in making art. He lists all the projects that have been funded by Kickstarter highlighting the expansive storytelling techniques facilitated by books, tabletop games, roleplaying games receiving support. He points to these games as something of an underdeveloped framework for allowing more people to participate in a creative process.
He warns that AI is in a position to marginalize and supplant many of the burgeoning creatives who have only just begun to realize success through opportunities for funding that platforms like Kickstarter provides. There is something of an implication that as much as Kickstarter has done to help these artists, their capacity is still comparatively too narrow to provide the support and resources the creative community needs to succeed.
For example, I have found that I have a more difficult time creating anything with verbal or written content if music has lyrics. However, if I am working with numbers, say balancing accounts, lyrics don’t inhibit me at all. (Though my singing along might disturb my co-workers.) Though age may also be a factor because I don’t remember having as much difficulty with writing to music with lyrics when I was younger. And the article sort of alludes to the fact that different people have different capacity to multi-task.
Here is some of what the article has to say. A fair bit of space is also devoted to the damage volume can have on hearing.
Numerous studies have discovered how music can affect study and work habits:
Listening to instrumental or familiar music in the background competes less with a study assignment than music with lyrics or unfamiliar music. Instrumental music also seems to interfere less with reading comprehension and assignments requiring verbal and visual memory than does music with lyrics.
Upbeat music with a higher tempo may help when you’re doing something requiring movement or motivation, such as exercising or cleaning your room.
The more difficult your task is – for instance, memorizing material, problem-solving or learning something new – the more likely the music is distracting and people often need to turn it off.
…according to its 2022 Survey of Public Participation in the Arts (SPPA), conducted by the U.S. Census Bureau, 48.5 percent of adults reported having read at least one book in the past year, compared with 52.7 percent five years earlier, and 54.6 percent ten years earlier. Meanwhile, in 2022, just 37.6 percent reported reading a novel or short story, compared with 41.8 percent in 2017 and 45.2 percent in 2012. As we said at the time, the fiction-reading rate was the lowest in the history of the SPPA, a survey that goes back more than three decades.
[…]
….the share of 13-year-olds who reported reading for fun “almost every day.” In 2023, the figure was 14 percent, down from 17 percent in 2020 and 27 percent in 2012. The share of 13-year-olds who fell into this reading category in 2023 was lower than in any previous test year, …
[…]
For decades, more than half of all nine-year-olds reported reading for fun “almost every day.” In 2012, that figure was 53 percent. In 2020, it dropped to 42 percent, and in 2022 (the most recent year for which data are available), 39 percent. Also in 2022, the share of nine-year-olds who “never or hardly ever” read for fun was at its highest: 16 percent.
Since these trends existed prior to the pandemic, we can’t blame it on Covid. I was harboring some hope that being cooped up at home might have led more people to pick up reading as a habit.
On the other hand, Barnes and Noble is planning on opening 58 stores in 2024, more stores in a year than they have since 2009. In some cases, they are re-occupying buildings they left years ago. From what I have been reading over the last year, some of their success seems to be attributable to the corporate office giving the individual stores more license to customize their spaces to the communities in which they are located and aim for a more independent bookstore vibe. The company recently bought a local bookstore chain in CO with the intent of operating under the local name rather than Barnes and Noble which seems to reinforce their local flavor strategy.
The BN store near me seems to always be hopping despite the dwindling fortunes of the mall surrounding it. It has appeared to be a third place gathering space for a lot of tweens to interact in a way that makes me secretly grateful. I have seen articles claiming there is a resurgence of reading among Gen Z thanks to the BookTok trend on Tiktok.
But I think both the decline of reading and Barnes and Noble’s growing success can be true. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Barnes and Noble is increasingly finding success selling non-book products, services, and programs. It all bears watching and considering.
h/t to my friend Tonja Khabir for linking to a CNN piece about Yamilée Toussaint, the founder of STEM for Dance, a program which integrates dance with STEM subjects to encourage girls of color to pursue careers in STEM fields.
For Toussaint, the germ of STEM for Dance started when she was studying mechanical engineering at MIT and was one of two women of color in her major. The article says the organization has programs in nine cities. It appears the activities are a mix of school clubs and camps in which the girls can participate.
The organization’s school and summer programs typically attract girls who identify as dancers but are hesitant about STEM. Through the supportive community and hands-on projects, the girls begin to see themselves as programmers, engineers, and innovators.
[…]
Rather than teach dance and STEM separately, the program combines the two. Working in small groups, the girls choreograph dance routines that include STEM elements, such as LED light strips that they code to light up with the music. The girls also create songs through computer science that they incorporate into their performance.
The article initially caught my attention due to its focus on Carter’s interactions with musicians who lived in Macon, GA where I had lived for a time:
In that interview, Carter mentioned that when he became governor, he got to know some of the people at Capricorn Records in Macon, Georgia — among them Otis Redding.
“It was they who began to meld the White and Black music industries, and that was quite a sociological change for the region. So as I began to travel around Georgia I made contact a few days every month or so with Capitol Records, just to stay in touch with people in the state, and got to know all the Allman Brothers, Dickey Betts and others. Later on, I met Charlie Daniels and the Marshall Tucker Band.” As time went on, Carter realized the importance of the arts and music to bringing people together, says Paige Alexander, CEO of the Carter Center.
Not everything he did as governor of Georgia was always pro-arts. During his tenure the State Arts Commission was eliminated and arts funding severely cut. Though by the end of his term in 1975, the funding increased from $128,000 to $183,000 ($1,069,256 today).
In 1973, apparently in the wake of the success of the movie Deliverance, he created the State Motion Picture & Television Advisory Commission in an effort to tout Georgia as a filming location. Not quite the movie I would be promoting as a good representation of the people and locations available in the state. But the state has become a very active filming location, especially in recent years.
Carter himself became interested in woodworking and painting when he was in the Navy and took it up more actively after his term as president. And, of course, he was active in wood working of another sort via Habitat for Humanity.
Over the last decade or so, I have been pleased to periodically read articles about people taking up dance classes as adults. As someone who advocates for people to recognize they have the capacity to be creative, it is always encouraging to read that people are connecting to that aspect of themselves.
Though I feel like it is rare to see articles about people taking up their instruments, singing, acting, or visual arts practice again. We know it is happening, but maybe it isn’t deemed as news worthy?
Interest in adult ballet has increased by 75% over the last three to five years, according to Patti Ashby, U.S. National Director of Royal Academy of Dance, the primary ballet organization in the country that trains teachers and tracks national engagement with ballet. And the number of adult ballet summer intensive programs have nearly doubled since the pandemic, according to the weekly online ballet-centric magazine Pointe.
And as you might expect, there is an “adult ballet” TikTok trend which probably both reflects and cultivates this.
The trend is also alive and well on TikTok, where the popular hashtag “adult ballet” retrieves countless videos of women documenting their progress in the dance form. Professional ballerinas such as Mary Helen Bowers, with half a million followers on Instagram (@balletbeautiful), stream ballet-inspired workouts that focus on feeling beautiful while building strength.
An encouraging positive aspect accompanying this return to dance is that many participants aren’t experiencing the focus on ideal body standards associated with the dance form. Some of those interviewed expressed they had some anxiety in that regard prior to starting classes. Finding that the old stereotypes didn’t exist in these classes, they were free to enjoy the experience and focus on their practice.
Seth Godin recently wrote that while many professions are just as important as they were 30-50 years ago, the basic skills required for those professions have changed. Pharmacists no longer have to mix their own medicines, opticians no longer have to grind lens, lawyers have templates from which to generate documents, graphic designers aren’t required to be skilled in drawing by hand.
He concludes with:
In your work, are you fighting the change or leading it?
It’s hard to see us going back.
I attended a webinar Ruth Hartt was delivering today where she made a similar point about audience expectations, noting that while everyone acknowledges audiences for arts and cultural activities are shrinking, programming and marketing still tends to center the tastes of the older, diminishing audience and donor base.
To some extent, while it is important to have programming that reflects a broader segment of the community you wish to serve, Aubrey Bergauer has often spoken about audience feedback that focused more on the language, images, and experiences being focused on the arts organization and their needs vs. externally focused externally on audience expectations and needs. She has mentioned very few comments are about the programming, compared to comments about promotional language “reading like inside baseball.”
These observations are much in-line with Ruth Hartt’s discussion of Clayton Christensen’s research indicating consumers respond best to language and images that tells them how the product fulfills a need they have or aligns with what is important to them.
CEO Patrick Fisher — while acknowledging that his group has done much good over the years — writes that “regardless of intentions, the Arts Council has caused harm by being inconsistent, unresponsive, or culturally inept.”
[…]
Fisher said it has sometimes been through poor planning and management of initiatives like the Disabled Artists Creative Cohort and the Black Arts Action Committee. GPAC “over-promised and under-delivered” on these underfunded attempts to increase opportunities for disabled and Black artists and left behind disappointed constituencies, he said.
Other programs that initially served a purpose failed to change as needed. One, Fisher said, was Art on the Walls, which at first addressed a very real lack of exhibition opportunities for emerging and mid-career artists. But it also kept diverting resources from more urgent projects even after other opportunities for such artists emerged, he said.
Likewise, certain grant programs for local artists ran out of money, leaving artists in the lurch.
Last April I wrote about the group, Crappy Funding Practices, which has been calling attention to onerous requirements and problematic expectations that funding entities have for grantees. The ultimate goal has been nudge funders to engage in the sort of self-examination that GPAC has undertaken.
As far as I recall, GPAC hasn’t been a subject of a post by Crappy Funding Practices, but some of those mentioned by the group have revised their practices when it has been called to their attention. It is to their credit that the CEO and members of the arts council have engaged in a listening tour, solicited feedback, and made changing some of these practices part of their next strategic plan.
I have made a number of posts over the years on the practice of contextomy which is the practice of selectively editing quotes, often in connection with movie and show reviews, to make it appear reviewers enjoyed what they saw.
Creators who engage with these promoters or otherwise participate in the purchase of fake reviews are now squarely in the FTC’s crosshairs. The FTC has made it clear that ignorance is no defense; if you’re benefiting from fake reviews, even if you didn’t personally buy them, you could be held liable. This could result in hefty fines, legal action, and irreparable damage to your brand’s reputation.
He lists a number of practices podcasters can employ– mostly avoiding the temptation to buy reviews, vetting promoters, focusing on creating good content, and encouraging sincere reviews.
About a week ago, Haydn Corrodus posted this fun video from the Beamish Museum on LinkedIn
I appreciated Haydn making the following comment which acknowledges it takes time to achieve a level of virality, especially when employing modern slang with a deadpan delivery:
From looking at their page briefly, it seems like it was only a matter of time before one of their videos went viral.
There was some disappointing news a week or so ago when the New England Foundation for the Arts (NEFA) announced the sunsetting after 28 years of the National Theater Project and National Dance Project due to a priority shift by the Mellon Foundation.
Across the course of my career, I availed myself of the opportunity to present dance companies supported by the National Dance Project. The support helped to cultivate an audience for dance in a couple communities in which I worked. The funding helped remove some of the risk inherent to introducing dance to communities who had low to no familiarity with the art form.
The deadline for the last phase of the National Theater Project is in October and the final iteration of the National Dance Project will be in Januar/February.
The preliminary application for the final NTP grant cycle in its current form opens on September 6, 2024, and closes on October 10, 2024.
The preliminary application for the final NDP grant cycle in its current form will open in January 2025.
The statement released by NEFA says the following about the Mellon Foundation priority shift:
…Mellon partners as they do the important work of aligning their resources to best serve social justice in the performing arts for future generations
My first impression was that they would be supporting internal capacity of arts organizations to be more equitable and inclusive along the lines of creating a better working environment by establishing fairer pay and work hours. But as I re-read the statement I realized it encompasses one of ten thousand different options. I guess we will see when Mellon chooses to clarify their new goals.
Apparently I wasn’t paying close enough attention because I didn’t realize they have had more than one cohort of artists participating in separate 18 month phases. The groups in urban and rural Minnesota received $500/month to do with however they chose. All told, $675,000 was distributed through the program. This month Springboard for the Arts will host an art show compromised of the work of those supported by the project. The artists chosen for the show have received an additional $5000 to create a piece for the show.
There are teams from Guaranteed Income Pilots Dashboard (GIPD) run by the Stanford Basic Income Lab, the University of Pennsylvania Center for Guaranteed Income Research, and the University of Tennessee who have been tracking what the artists have been spending the money on to get a better sense of how funds were being used. The funds were distributed via pre-paid debt cards which facilitated the tracking.
The GIPD studied Springboard’s guaranteed income program and found that artists used the cash primarily on retail purchases (35.94%), food and groceries (30.26%), and housing and utilities (10.04%).
According to figures Springboard provided to Hyperallergic, 70% of recipients were BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color), LGBTQ+, artists from rural areas, or artists with disabilities.
I will be interested to see if there is additional insight that emerges as they analyze and collect feedback about the pilot program. The value of these funds to the artists seemed best expressed in an article I quoted in an October 2021 blog entry during the pandemic (my emphasis):
Most importantly, the artists say, they feel valued after an incredibly difficult pandemic year. “I feel like people just don’t understand how hard [the pandemic] has hit artists — the arts just went away for over a year,” says Gamble. “It almost feels like a luxury to feel valued, because it usually feels like there’s never enough funds for artists.”
Andrew Taylor recently wrote on a topic I haven’t covered in some time – exploiting the passions of arts and cultural staff and creatives. He points out that a lot of non-profits of all types frequently discuss the benefits they have provided which have elevated the status and experiences of customers and clientele while neglecting to provide the same treatment for their organizational staff.
As it turns out, the passion-driven nature of arts work can be part of the problem. One study found that assumptions of passion and purpose in the workforce can “license poor and exploitative worker treatment” (Kim et al 2020). Across seven experiments and a meta-analysis, the authors found that:
…people do in fact deem poor worker treatment (e.g., asking employees to do demeaning tasks that are irrelevant to their job description, asking employees to work extra hours without pay) as more legitimate when workers are presumed to be “passionate” about their work.
This “legitimization of passion exploitation” flowed from two primary factors: assumptions that passionate workers would have volunteered for this work if given the chance, and beliefs that the work itself is its own reward. Either of those sound familiar?
As Taylor says, being told that you shouldn’t expect to be paid to have fun or for what you would have done anyway or even that you weren’t showing commitment to the cause are all things people in the arts have heard multiple times. And let’s not forget, needing to pay your dues when you are starting out.
Taylor cites five factors identified by the Human Flourishing Program at Harvard as essential. Those having the highest measure in all five are experiencing the most well-being. There are deeper explanations of each factor in Taylor’s piece, but in short they are: Happiness and Life Satisfaction; Mental and Physical Health; Meaning and Purpose; Character and Virtue; and Close Social Relationships.
I mention these in part to provide context for Taylor’s accompanying observation:
It may be surprising to learn that “Financial and Material Stability” is not considered a core domain, but rather a supporting variable that helps individuals maintain well-being in the other domains over time.
So in essence, proper level of remuneration can indeed help people buy/support happiness. I mean, you knew that, but it is good to see it backed by some data.
ArtNews had a piece last month examining the world of Immersive Art shows. You may have seen ads for these events which animate the works of Van Gogh or Monet and project them on the walls of a large space. To my surprise, those shows represent a small and decreasing share of the market compared to shows that animate the works of living artists or long term installation such experiences like those offered by companies such as Meow Wolf.
Immersive shows for Van Gogh and Monet are somewhat controversial based on the manipulation of artists’ work and the perception that the shows are lightweight and sort of dumb down the art viewing experience.
Museums that are interested in providing these sort of programs run up against capacity issues, both in terms of personnel and physical space:
Adapting or acquiring, and then equipping large amounts of space is one clear constraint. Size matters here. Small spaces simply do not have the same experiential impact. To compete with the big players, a museum will need to build out or otherwise secure several thousand square meters of floor space. Quality projection-based art often requires a 10-meter or even higher ceiling. These are halls that many existing institutions don’t have or can’t justify surrendering for extended periods.
Up next, new skills are needed. Creating an immersive art experience is akin to developing a branded consumer product. It relies on a multidisciplinary team to develop a single large-scale work…
On the other hand, Felix Barber, who authored the ArtNews piece suggests that the immersive art show can be taken out of the museum space to reach new audiences where they live. He cites collaborations in France where ” Grand Palais Immersif, in turn, joined forces with the Opera National de Paris to create an immersive space inside the Opera Bastille.” But also points out that other spaces like warehouses, empty spaces in shopping malls, and churches can provide the requisite physical space for these shows:
To find the space, a museum may not have to build at its existing high-cost, city-center location. Instead, it can look for a more affordable solution, while potentially engaging a new audience where they live. Many immersive studios work with real estate partners that are seeking to invigorate shopping centers and struggling urban areas. Others take over disused industrial premises. Culturespaces in Baux de Provence operates in an old quarry. Eonarium uses churches.
Ultimately those Barber interviews suggest that while museums in the current form will likely always be attractive, more options are becoming available to consumers who may prefer an experiential interaction versus standing in front of a work and reading a plaque.
In the end, it all comes back to the quality of the art. What will unlock museums’ interest in immersive experience is work that embodies beauty and meaning, presented at scale with a powerful sensory flourish.
[…]
Even so, and no matter what, art museums now face new competitors. Sitting back and watching them capture audiences is not a promising option. Museums have to respond. One size will not fit all.
The Conversation recently had an article by Will Shüler examining the strict enforcement of a no cameras policy at a theater production he attended. When he arrived, ushers put a sticker over the camera on his phone. The presence of the sticker was checked multiple times before he was seated and ushers patrolled the aisles to make sure no one removed the sticker and used their cameras during the performance.
This may sound particularly extreme until you learn the measures were taken due to the nudity of actor Kit Harrington in the London production of Jeremy O. Harris’ Slave Play.
Shuler suggests that if these measures were deemed necessary, perhaps the nudity should have been cut.
If policing the audience is necessary, perhaps the casting or the nudity needs reconsidering, otherwise both read as gimmicks. Additionally, the efforts made to protect the penis in the performance arguably point to an increasingly prudish attitude of nudity and sensuality in theatre.
It is understandable that a celebrity would want control over any images of their naked body, and in an age of social media sharing, theatre companies may feel compelled to overprotect actors appearing nude on stage. These leaked images are in contrast to the production of Ink at Sadler’s Wells, which printed images of (non-celebrity) performer Šuka Horn’s male nudity in the programme.
Shuler makes some points worth considering in arguing about nudity’s place in performances.
What occurred to me was that in the context of the increased use of intimacy coordinators in theater, film, and television, there is a need/desire for trust between the performers and audiences. Nude performances have been around for decades now, but information about the experience was generally shared verbally and mentioning the context in which the nudity occurred. Whether you thought it was appropriate or not was discussed in relation to the performance. Actors may be willing to perform nude as long as that understanding of where and why the nudity exists is shared between themselves and the audience.
However, the use of phones to record that aspect of a performance allows video and still images to be distributed without any sort of reference to the context in which it appeared. It becomes a picture of someone naked for sake of displaying a naked image of them. There is already an issue of AI generated images of celebrities, colleagues, and classmates creating distress for the subjects of those images.
While there are probably some who will be bold and self-confident enough to say, “Might as well give them some accurate content to work off of,” I wonder how many who might otherwise be willing to appear in some state of undress are reluctant to do so due to the opportunity cell phones provide.
Reminds me of our first JTBD work with Bob Moesta when we simply showed a digital ad for virtual care with a person enjoying an event with their friends. We didn’t have to show them obtaining health care – we showed the result of it. 40% increase!
On the second page of the first chapter, Drucker essentially says that nonprofit mission statements need to be focused on outcomes. He relates the story of helping an emergency room of a hospital create a mission statement for itself. He says it took them a long time to arrive at a mission statement and when they did, people felt it was ridiculously obvious – “to give assurance to the afflicted.”
And, much to the surprise of the physicians and nurses, it turned out that in a good emergency room, the function is to tell eight out of ten people there is nothing wrong that a good night’s sleep won’t take care of. You’ve been shaken up. Or the baby has the flu. All right, it’s got convulsions, but there is nothing seriously wrong with the child.’ The doctors and nurses give assurances.
…Yet translating that mission statement into action meant that everybody who comes in is now seen…in less than a minute….Some people are immediately rushed to intensive care, others get a lot of tests, and yet others are told ‘Go back home, go to sleep, take an aspirin, and don’t worry…But the first objective is to see everybody almost immediately–because that is the only way to give assurance.”
Framing an audience’s desired goals for an experience in terms of medical outcomes helped further develop my understanding of the concept Hartt has been espousing. Given the choice, very few people would prefer to undergo a medical procedure vs. just going about daily life. While knowing you will enjoy competent care is important, what people really want to know as Jay Gerhart suggests, is that they will come out the other side with as minimal an impact on their daily enjoyment as possible.
Obviously the stakes aren’t as high when attending an arts and cultural experience (one hopes), but there can still be a related anxiety regarding whether the experience will be an enjoyable one. Focusing on how the experience will solve a problem like providing an escape from stress of the work week or providing an opportunity to spend time with family and friends.
I often cite this Lexus commercial as a good example. The parents continue to drive until the kids say they no longer have a cell signal and then the parents stop driving. The voice over says “…and feel what it is like to truly connect.” You aren’t buying a luxury vehicle, you are buying a method to reconnect with your family.
But it isn’t just enough to communicate that message. As Drucker says, it has to be operationalized in some way. But translating it into action isn’t necessarily complicated just as providing assurance in Drucker’s example meant a commitment to making an assessment in a short period of time.
One of the things they found is that people expect to pay less for exhibit based and performing arts experiences in 2024 than they did in 2019, There is a lot nuance to this result according the Dilenschneider on her colleagues. First of all, this response is based on what people remember paying for their experience in pre-pandemic 2019. As you might imagine, they note that memory is imprecise and so comparing what they expect to pay this year compared to what they remember paying five years ago isn’t going to provide the most accurate results. In fact, data about what was spent in the first two quarters of 2024 tends to be higher than what they said they planned to spend.
The other thing to know is that people aren’t planning to cut back on admission tickets, but rather the other activities surrounding the central event. What IMPACTS terms off-site spending:
As of Q2 2024, the top area where folks recall spending money in relation to their visit is admission. Still, we do not see that admission costs are a top barrier to attendance to cultural organizations. So, to continue our work as data detectives, we’ll want to observe where other changes have taken place.
[…]
Folks are spending more on parking, admission, and onsite retail, and they are spending less on the other aspects surrounding the cultural experience.
Nowadays, despite rising food costs and restaurant prices, cultural participants plan to spend less (and actually do) on food and beverage. In 2019, performing arts patrons were more likely to grab a dinner before the show and perhaps drinks afterwards. Now, however, the data suggest that patrons may be more likely to only do pre-theater drinks, or perhaps skip the fancy bottle of wine for a single glass or choose a more affordable fast casual option than a Michelin-starred meal. These choices reflect consumers’ decisions to “trade off” or “trade down” when it comes to making their cultural-related spending choices. Fortunately for many cultural organizations, these “trades” thus far seem to primarily affect offsite spending (and indicate less sensitivity to onsite consumer behaviors).
Of course, these results are associated with people who actually made the choice to participate in an experience. A fair part of the article is devoted to a conversation about the general pessimism people in the US especially feel about the economy. Ticket prices are fairly low on the list of cost related barriers to visitation compared to concerns about the economy, prices, inflation, investment, personal finances, etc.
In this particular story, they featured a library in Taylorsville, KY where not a lot of people have internet access due to the sparse population and difficult terrain. The director of the library noted that the use of the library computers has decreased over time, but the use of their wifi has increased significantly due to people using their own devices.
Director Debra Lawson said that while those computers are used less frequently lately —patrons typically bring in their own devices — the Wi-Fi usage is “through the roof.”
“We leave our Wi-Fi up 24/7,” Lawson said. “So sometimes … I come in the next morning, check on the camera, and there’ll be people outside in 35 degrees in sleeping bags using the internet.”
The main focus of the story is that federal infrastructure bills are providing better internet to places like Tayorsville as well as helping underwrite 70% of the $9000/year bill the library will have when they get fiber optic internet in the near future.
But the value of the internet service to the community can be measured in those people sitting outside the building in 35 degree weather using the service. During Covid, many libraries re-positioned their wifi equipment to provide a signal into their parking lots so that students who didn’t have internet at home could do their homework while building access was denied them. Even as the buildings re-opened, libraries have continued to offer that service for students and the unhoused population. When I go to my local library, there are signs on the exterior of the building with the wifi information so that people can log in.
Libraries provide a good example of a non-profit/government service that is constantly revising the way they offer their services to help meet the needs of the community. In many ways, they are much more responsive and nimble than many other cultural non-profits or government services.
A miscellaneous bit of interesting information – I recently saw a job posting for the executive director of the Cultural Institutions Retirement System (CIRS). I was totally unaware of the existence of an organization specifically dedicated to providing pension and other retirement benefits for cultural organizations. I assumed most cultural organizations arranged for retirement services independently of each other or that employees received these benefits through their union membership.
In fact, that may be largely the case outside of NYC where about 50 cultural institutions in the five boroughs of NYC, plus one in Newark, NJ participate in the retirement system. Most members are museums and gardens, but there are a few unions and organizations like American Parkinson Disease Assoc., Inc. and Animal Care & Control of NYC, Inc. who also participate.
More surprising however is that an additional 100 child care centers also offer their retirement benefits through CIRS. The retirement system was started in 1962 by five museums, the child care centers started joining in 1964.
All in all, it seems like an interesting, though unexpected, alliance of organizational interests pooling their funds to provide retirement benefits to their members.
My one quibble with this is their claim that admission is so expensive for young people —who paid the equivalent of $750 plus travel to see the concert (though apparently ticket prices dropped to about $250 in the weeks before the concerts). There is an element to this situation where people saying things are too expensive really mean they prioritize spending much more on some experiences versus others. (There is also the fact that it says something about concert ticket prices in the US that even at $750 a ticket it was cheaper for US residents to fly to Vienna than to see a show in their own country where ticket prices are in the thousands. But that is another post.)
Otherwise, I appreciated that many of the museums took steps that reflected the interests of their audience like adding more English language tours and switching out the classical music tracks played in the galleries.
The museum also switched the soundtracks playing its in 20 historical staterooms from classical music to Taylor Swift albums, prompting several large singalongs that went viral on TikTok.
“I love classical music, I love Mozart, I love Beethoven, I love all these classical artists, but it was really nice to have a Taylor Swift singalong more or less in the state rooms that normally stand for something else,” Eisterer said, noting she had worked for The Albertina for eight years.
While I would personally prefer a different music choice, I have noted for years that not everything an arts organization does is meant for everyone. One museum went from having 2000 visitors on weekend days to an average of 5000 people a day from Thursday-Sunday. Another saw a 100% increase over regular attendance.
While theses institutions gave up admission revenue, they did see a surge in sales in their stores and cafes which helped to make up for the loss.
Revenue considerations aside, the museums saw the cancelled concerts as an opportunity to advance the perception of accessibility, relevance, and welcoming among a younger demographic. Not only for themselves, but the city as well. This is the sort of approach that helps engender trust and engagement in arts and cultural organizations that I have discussed in some recent posts. (I am still holding to my general philosophy about free admission though)
While the initiative may have been a temporary hit to museum revenues from entry fees, museum staff told ARTnews there were far more benefits, including merchandise sales, publicity, and greater accessibility to younger visitors.
“We didn’t think about the money or the losing the money at all,” Eisterer said, noting that its entry fees can be very expensive for young people. “It was, for us, important to set like a sign for this concert that had been canceled because of this horrible reason, and to give somehow a bit of hope and say to people, ‘Hey, we know it’s devastating. You can’t go to the concert, but hey, you can enjoy a bit of of art in Vienna, that’s what we can offer you’.”
“It’s helpful for our reputation,” Posch said. “it pays into the reputation of the city of Vienna, being friendly, being generous, being hospitable. And that is worth more, in the end, than not generating these few euros in ticket sales.”
Interesting story via Artsjournal.com that might provide a rough roadmap for arts organizations looking to change the programming mix they offer the community. The public broadcaster of Norway( NRK) received survey results indicating that climate change was not getting enough coverage. There was a reluctance to cover these sort of stories for fear of being accused of having too strong a political bent. (Recall Norway is one of the top five exporters of oil and natural gas in the world so climate change touches on a cornerstone of the national economy.) An interesting aspect of this story is that the staff of the broadcaster pretty much managed upward in order to get executive leadership invested in making these changes.
The parallel to arts and cultural organizations I saw is that staff and board members are often concerned that instigating a shift in programming and experiences will alienate long time supporters and perhaps also garner accusations of making political statements with the choices.
After agreeing that NRK needed to produce better climate journalism, senior leadership, along with a group of journalists who weren’t climate specialists, decided to figure out what better climate coverage would look like.
Initial conversations covered everything from where the broadcaster drew the line between activism and journalism, to which editorial tone would balance fear and hope, to which audiences to focus on and where to put resources.
[…]
That has helped the broadcaster deal with claims that coverage of climate is politically motivated, and prevented such blowback from shaping the broadcaster’s climate strategy.
Part of the challenge has been to produce stories that don’t prioritize “running after whatever people get angry about, or that triggers some deep-rooted emotion,” says Cosson-Eide, “but instead looking for stories that are relatable, but also say something meaningful about what’s at stake and what we have to do as a society.”
I appreciated that they didn’t just say we are committed to more climate coverage but also created parameters about what that coverage would look like that was shared with everyone. In terms of the arts and culture realm, the decision might be made to commit to a course of action, but the artistic staff might decide what that looks like among themselves which leaves everyone else to speculate and opine that things are going too far or not far enough toward meeting the organizational commitment. Or perhaps the rest of the staff is in the dark about how decisions are connecting with the overall goals.
Based on the article, the creation of a clearly defined policy has allowed NRK to provide a consistent quality of coverage that other news outlets have struggled to maintain in the face of multiple crises like Covid, Russian invasion of Ukraine, etc.
I especially appreciated NRK’s decision to resist catering to the passions and controversies of the moment and stick with the core tenets of their climate coverage plan. It is a challenging thing to do for both news organizations and arts/cultural entities which seek to provide content and experiences which reflect the interests of the communities they serve. It sounds like NRK addressed the general topic in a relatable way, but tried to avoid placing it in the framework of whatever might have people riled up.
This approach seems like a good lesson for arts organizations looking to formulate a shift in type of programs and experiences.
An article on Hyperallergic by Lise Ragbir observed that DEI hiring initiatives have started to wane in both the commercial and non-profit sector. There were a number of high profile, highly touted hires, a fair number of which were short lived due to lack of supportive infrastructure and culture.
I suspect and hope that while the overt and public efforts at DEI have faded from the news, there are organizations quietly working to advance these goals. Ragbir provides three suggestions for arts organization to employ which will generally contribute to the development of infrastructure and culture for all employees.
The first is to empower staff. The long term goal being the reduction of turn over by providing people with opportunities to take on responsibilities which feel meaningful. Though this may also mean increasing salaries as well, Ragbir notes that it often costs the organization twice as much to replace a good worker as paying them enough to retain them. Not replacing them at all can lead to increased employee dissatisfaction and departure.
The MMF data also suggests that one of the major sources of career dissatisfaction is a lack of opportunities for growth or career advancement. The report highlights the fact that“the path to promotion and seniority is long and uncertain, with an average tenure of 12 years in an institution before a promotion.” Now consider this: Entry-level workers, who make up the most diverse part of the museum workforce, are also on the longest track to promotion.
A second suggestion advocates for using interim leaders during times of transition to provide the breathing space to create more constructive policies and work culture before hiring a new permanent leader.
Jenni Kim has served in lead operating and administrative roles at major museums and cultural organizations, including MoMA PS1. In a recent email exchange, she and I discussed the value of interim leadership. Her take? “An interim leader can play the pivotal dual roles of 1) giving an organization time to find and transition to its next leader, and 2) handling immediate and short-term needs that clear the deck for the next leader.”
[…]
“A leadership transition will likely change an organization in a number of ways, planned or not,” Kim said . “So, it is a critical moment for the board to reflect and assess their readiness to support and invest in setting-up new and diverse leaders for success.” Because diverse perspectives will lead us closer to fulfilling those loud calls for change.
The third suggestion might be a little controversial – empowering and training board members to help with the process. There are a lot of executive level leaders in non-profits who would prefer to keep board members at something of a remove from the organizational operations out of concern they may engage in micro-management. However, as Ragbir notes, there are greater expectations for accountability for cultural non-profits so this level of involvement may not be something arts leaders can avoid.
She notes that there is a lot of education and training of board members to prepare them for this level of involvement, but doesn’t link to any resources. I suspect this type of effort is so new there aren’t a lot of examples and case studies from which to draw. There is going to be some degree of finding ones way.
The latest Independent Sector report breaks down five key findings:
After four years of decline, trust in nonprofits has rebounded by 5 points to 57%.
Trust in philanthropy remains steady at 33%, lower than trust in nonprofits.
Americans trust nonprofits to reduce national divisions more than they trust corporations, government, or media.
Americans have less trust in nonprofits to advocate for public policies and conduct nonpartisan voter engagement.
There are clear pathways for nonprofits to increase public trust in the sector
I was curious to know more about what the pathways to public trust might be so I took a closer look at the report issued by the Independent Sector. The measures survey respondents indicated would increase their level of trust was largely related to a commitment to ethical behavior and transparency.
62% of respondents would trust an organization more if it passed a course or certification for ethics in its operations
61% of respondents would increase their trust if the organization committed to a set of guidelines and ethical principles for its operations
79% of respondents said their previous volunteering experience made their views of nonprofit organizations more favorable
I was pleased to see that volunteering helped people feel more favorable about non-profit organizations.
After I read some of the comments individual respondents provided, I was a little skeptical about the statements that third party ethics certification would help raise confidence in non-profits. Regardless of political identity, people’s perceptions were that many non-profits were intentionally enflaming divisions or perpetuating the problems in order to justify their existence. Certification that what had been perceived to be corrupt practices by a non-profit was actually well within ethnical practice may result in people deciding the third party certification is untrustworthy.
About 10 years ago I wrote about a TED talk Jamie Bennett made where he noted it was easier for people to identify themselves with athletes based on sports they may have actively played years ago than it was to call themselves artists even if they were currently relatively active in creative pursuits.
Can I be in a traditional marriage and still have a husband who does all the grocery shopping and all the dishes? Because I do.
When I had kids, I knew I’d never go back to dancing. Am I still a ballet dancer? I think so. In our marriage, my husband and I make all our decisions together, and yet, I have no financial independence. Are we still equals? You bet.
She goes on to cite the example of Ingrid Silva and Celia Fushille who paused their careers to have families and then returned to dancing, choreography, and artistic direction of a dance company.
She also mentions she is on her way to Berlin with her daughter and her friend to attend a dance intensive program which is actually cheaper than attending a similar program near her home in the US. Like her, her friend:
My friend is also a former dancer and mother of three. In her world, she is the stable paycheck, and it is her partner who does the household logistics. Her job flies her to Barcelona and Munich, and in her spare time, she started a ballet photography company. Her life looks very different from mine but she too, has it all. Wife. Mother. Artist.
Whether they passed on their interest to their kids or their kids helped to keep it alive in their parents, it doesn’t matter. I am encouraged that people with any story about people who continue to feel connected with earlier artistic practice.
Obviously, a few examples is not indicative of a trend of a shift in sentiment. But I do think the opportunity and availability of seeing people outside your immediate social circle on social media, videos, etc who are not necessarily full-blown celebrated professions continuing to engage in creative and artistic practice in some way will help people feel that it is valid to maintain their own practice as part of their identity.
His basic premise is that if culture was an industry, decisions about it would play a bigger role in international policy and relations.
If we treat culture as a real industry, in the classical sense of the word, a very different picture would emerge. It would involve competing with big players on a global level, making decisions about investing large amounts of money into key areas. You would need to focus on geographical concentrations, drive innovation, maximise profits and exports, and talk about industrial policy in the same way you would about electric vehicles, wine, or dairy industries. However, this is not the same as talking about culture and art.
He uses the example of South Korea’s focus since the 1990s to make music and television dramas into global products.
He says that the misclassification of cultural as an industry has created multiple problems and generally seen funding directed toward a few universities and think-tank groups which reinforce this state.
…the last forty years have shown that the reducing culture to an industry has led to the marginalisation of culture on policy agendas and scrapping it away from transformative policies. The ‘culture-as-an-industry’ discourse has worsened working conditions in the cultural sector pushed to spend increasingly more effort and time on quantifying its impact.
[…]
The beneficiaries of the creative industry narrative include various clusters and consortia centred around universities, research agencies, consultancies, and similar entities. These groups often have more influence on governments than artists and cultural workers.
O’Connor tends to be against speaking about culture in economic terms, but instead as an important element in achieving a livable society. The problem is, that narrative can be in conflict with the goals of governments and business.
Cultural life is an integral part of social and political life, essential in defining citizenship. Culture, therefore, deserves to be considered one of the foundational services that contribute to creating a livable society.
[…]
However, if the conversation shifts to viewing culture as part of the public service sector, as a right, or as a sustainable development goal, large corporations may not find it as appealing to be grouped with culture and the arts. It’s no surprise that the United States has resisted including culture as a sustainable development goal on the UN agenda.
Perhaps most interesting to me is his assertion at the end of the article that the cultural sector not speak in terms of intrinsic value of culture:
Then the distinction between ‘intrinsic’ and social and economic is itself a product of neoliberal economics. Separating out the ‘intrinsic’ is actually a form of neoclassical economic modelling where individual good is purely a matter of the individual and her credit card. It also acts as an oubliette into which art is dropped as policy makers hurry on to the economic value…Art and cultural value are actually established and shared socially, and the individual judgement of a particular piece of art (song, video game, film) is part of our ongoing conversation about what we value as a society.
The world of culture is about the production and distribution of what we call art and culture: highly symbolic things, such as songs, plays, films, books, games, and paintings. The responsibility of the cultural sector is to take care of this world of symbolic things that has historically proven to be highly valuable to societies, and to support the people who create these symbolic things.
This gives me a lot to think about. My instinct is that what O’Connor is proposing is the next phase of my understanding about why we shouldn’t use economic value as a measure of the value of arts and culture. This deepens my understanding of why this argument is problematic. I regret that my old friend Carter Gilles is no longer alive to help me sort through these implications.
The first error we often make is believing that someone (even us) will never be good at riding a bike, because riding a bike is so difficult. When we’re not good at it, it’s obvious to everyone.
The second error is coming to the conclusion that people who are good at it are talented, born with the ability to do it. They’re not, they have simply earned a skill that translates into momentum.
There’s a difference between, “This person is a terrible public speaker,” and “this person will never be good at public speaking.”
The older I get, the more I can appreciate Godin’s point about earning a skill that translates into momentum. I suspect that abilities whose development can’t necessarily be observed as a result of physical practice like athleticism and musical performance may be the result of perspective and philosophy about the world people have developed over time, perhaps even since childhood.
Abilities related to creativity, problem-solving, interpersonal relationships, etc., may be the result of 10,000 little instances like observations of clouds and bugs, paying attention to conversations and retaining information as important, attempts at reasoning things about the world that you come across. School, socialization, family, wealth, opportunity, reading books, etc., will certainly play a part, supported by some good genes and brain chemistry perhaps. There are likely millions of musings and conclusions that we have never reflected upon as being productive toward the development of a skillset, much less that anyone around us was aware were occurring. But in the end, as Godin says, we earned the results.
Abilities that manifest as a result of our physical capacity are certainly dependent on genetics. But again as I have gotten older and experience more aches and pains, I have begun to suspect that there are some physical skills that are a result of perceptions and decisions we made as children regarding things as simple as how to walk, run, and stop. One of the things I suspect is that we are all making different decisions about how much to shift our body weight and which muscles need to be tensed when going to the cupboard to get a can of soup. I have lived in apartments where I was surprised to realize the heavy footed one stomping around was the wife who was a foot shorter and probably more than 100 lbs. lighter than her husband.
Even having developed the confidence to act as a result of some combination of decisions, perspectives, musings, etc., over the course of decades, there are often years of deliberate practice required to sit on top of that to truly excel in an area.
While genetics and other opportunities and privilege certainly contribute to the ease in which someone may obtain mastery, the more I read on the subject of innate talent vs. practice, the more I suspect that there is a lot of conscious effect and decision which is invisible to others as well as ourselves that ends up as a foundation for the skills we exhibit later in life.
Freakanomics did a two part show about how the Broadway play Stereophonic came together. The first part is broadly about the 11 year creative process playwright David Adjmi went through to make the show. The second part focuses a bit more on the economics behind a Broadway show.
If you have been involved with the performing arts for any length of time, you can probably predict the process Adjmi underwent – cobbled together funds from two commissions and a grant, plus had two architects let him live in their house rent free for years while he wrote. He had to put some pressure on Playwrights Horizons to consider the show and the cost of over $1 million was a lot for an off-Broadway production.
But it became a hit based on essentially breaking the formula of Broadway shows – a straight play about music, but not a musical, no stars in the cast, and runs long at 3.25 hours. Apparently it has a strong appeal to men based on the observation the men’s restroom line is longer than the women’s.
There is a lot more to the story than that. The first episode is 70 minutes alone and the second about 55 minutes.
Being the arts management nerd I am, I was even more interested in the second episode which talked about the economics and decisions that were made. Everything from the cost of putting on a show in NY vs. London, who can and how to invest in shows in both cities, what the actors got paid off-Broadway vs. after the move to Broadway, decisions about pricing tickets, and the marketing mix they used.
In terms of the pricing tickets, the producers say they can now get up to $349 for a ticket though they re-evaluate their pricing three times a week, but they started out much lower during previews:
We had preview pricing that was $40, $80, $120 to start, for the month of April. But you have to catch up to it, because now we can get $229 for them. You kind of play a game of chicken with yourself and with your audience. For something like Stereophonic, because it’s an unknown title — obviously it’s getting more well-known — but two, it does not have a major mega-star in it. It has a group of incredible rising stars, but they’re not household names. The way that we get there is by getting people in the door, and really building to that moment.
Thanks to improved audience analytics tools, the producers have changed their marketing mix from what it once was as well:
Oh, it’s almost entirely all digital now. It’s all mobile. It’s all through Meta — it’s all through Instagram, Facebook. We do still take the traditional behavioral banner ads that follow you around the internet. We still do some prints, but not a ton. We have dabbled into television, but we’re taking specific ads. We’re not taking giant flights with multiple spots on Good Morning America or the Today Show, which was always your bread and butter.
[…]
The R.O.I. is much easier to figure out because you can actually track people. Our zip code reporting is way more sophisticated now than it was before, whereas you had to blanket the market with something and then you didn’t see a direct correlation. Now it’s less things, but you can still see how your wraps jump due to specific things of press, like a C.B.S. Sunday Morning piece, or if your stars are on Morning Joe. There are fewer things that give you that pop, but at least you know, “If I’m on Morning Joe, then we’re going to have a good day at the box office.”
If this sort of information interests you and you have the time, I recommend giving the pieces a listen. Host Stephen Dubner says they are working on a longer, more involved series on the economics of making theater so I am going to keep an eye out for that as well.
In the wake of social unrest resulting from things like Covid, George Floyd, and Black Lives Matter, many theaters have worked to provide better working conditions for staff. Some of the changes have included shorter work hours, better pay, and childcare.
However, as expenses have gone up and philanthropic support has declined, these changes are raising increasingly difficult questions for summer theaters. Not that theaters haven’t always had a multitude of challenges to address. Staying committed to fair pay and fair hours has meant doing fewer shows, scaling back on customer service, or in one case, back office staff stepping in to sell popcorn when concessions staff exceed their hours in a week. There are concerns about whether having shorter rehearsal hours will result in lower quality performances and disappoint audiences who may be paying more for tickets than in the past.
In response to this some theaters are re-packaging their offerings for audiences. For some destination theater festivals, this may result in better experiences for audiences who felt there was more going on than they were able to experience.
Covid has continued to create consequences for these theaters. Not only have many experienced professionals left the industry, but the pandemic interrupted the continuity of training for younger professionals.
Bahr agreed, adding that “the supply chain of welders or people doing lighting is gone,” and that in Utah, the issue is deepened by the festival’s reliance on local college students, who missed several years of in-person learning. As carpenters and other skilled workers explained to him, seniors used to teach the juniors and they’d teach the sophomores, and so on, but “it’s like they’ve got four years of freshmen now.”
Climate change has also increasingly posed a challenge for summer theaters. In addition to dodging snakes and bears passing through the natural environment in which the theaters operate, forest fires and heat are becoming a central concern.
Oregon Shakespeare Festival artistic director Tim Bond noted that forest fires caused numerous cancellations in 2023:
“We had 10 cancellations last season,” he said, which is a serious financial hit. “We now have a ‘smoke team’ that monitors the smoke and the direction of the wind. They’ll know when the smoke will arrive, so sometimes we cancel even when audiences are seeing blue skies because we’ve gotten good at knowing when it will roll in.”
Utah Shakespearean Festival leadership said that smoke caused the cancellation of nine shows in 2022 resulting in a loss of $500,000.
American Theater Players in Spring Green, WI has had to cancel for heat and poor air quality and is having to budget to accommodate for increased number of refunds:
Young said that 2021 marked the first time American Players Theatre had to cancel outdoor productions in their 1,075-seat Hill Theatre for extreme heat. (Last year they lost performances due to poor air quality.) She said that while many audiences prefer matinees because they don’t want to drive at night, they increasingly have trouble sitting through them in extreme heat—weather that is also unsafe for actors. To compensate, APT is shifting outdoor matinees to late August, when it’s cooler in Wisconsin.
“We plan into our budget that we’re going to refund a certain number of tickets for weather,” she said, “but that number is getting higher, and we have to look at what it will be like in 10 years. Are we going to need a large indoor space to accommodate that shift?”
After reading about all the activity the FTP engaged in across the country, the reviewer Charlie Tyson notes that the budget was “less than 1% of the total funds allocated for federal work relief, or about the cost to build a battleship. Tyson notes that the cost to build an air craft carrier today is around $13 billion and challenges readers to think about what arts organizations and artists could do with that sort of money today.
What was most interesting was reading about the wide scope of activities the Federal Theater Project and the related Federal Dance Theater Project engaged in. If there was ever a time in the history of the US when artistic activity was viewed as populist rather than elitist, it was during the period of 1935 and 1939 when these projects were actively creating works. The works created weren’t just lighthearted fare. There were challenging pieces on topics like poverty, housing, racism, labor relations, and inequality.
The Living Newspaper program of the FTP addressed these topics and focused some criticism upon lawmakers by quoting statements made in the Congressional Record. It is probably no surprise that legislators who were already opposed to FDR’s New Deal programs targeted works drawing a great amounts of attention to the uncomfortable issues of the day.
The funds distributed to artists through FTP provided for a significant amount of community engagement. To a certain extent there are probably lessons to be drawn today from the activities of artists 90 years ago. One of the things cited by Tyson was how closely tailored to a target community some of the shows were:
“Unlike Hollywood, which delivered the same products to everyone, the Project was nimble, sensitive to local variation. For example, shows were staged in Spanish in Miami and Tampa and in Yiddish in New York. The Project gave directors license to adjust performances to satisfy local tastes; audiences in different cities might see differing versions of the same play.
A string of early successes established the Federal Theatre’s reputation. Its first hit was a production of Macbeth in Harlem, staged by one of the program’s so-called Negro Units. (The Federal Theatre was, at the time, Harlem’s largest employer.) To direct the production, the organization tapped Orson Welles, at that time a virtually unknown twenty-year-old actor with no professional directorial experience. The Harlem Macbeth—commonly known as the Voodoo Macbeth—traded Scottish gloom for Caribbean exoticism. Set in nineteenth-century Haiti with a large all-Black cast and filled, in Shapiro’s words, with “drumming and spectacle,” the production was a sensation. It moved from Harlem to Broadway and then embarked on a national tour with stops in the Jim Crow South. The play reached roughly 120,000 people.
Many of the shows were performed for free. There are apparently pictures of thousands of people filling parks to watch performances. (Though I imagine many performances also occurred indoors). In total, it was estimated “…thirty million Americans—roughly a quarter of the population—attended Federal Theatre productions.”
Toward the end of the piece Tyson notes that there have been recent calls for more federal funding of non-profit theaters and cites a criticism that theaters have only themselves to blame for producing works with themes criticizing the social and political environment. But Tyson notes that theatrical performances have a long history of containing social messages from Victorian melodramas pointing out the plight of the poor to the social commentary of Federal Theater Project works through to today.
Back in June there was an article on the Harvard Business Review site about 3 Ways to Compassionately Hold Your Team accountable. The authors of the piece approach the topic from the cognitive processes associated with accountability. What appealed to me about the piece was the contrasting of punitive approaches with those that views an assignment as an opportunity for growth and acknowledges that mistakes are a part of that process.
Since the creative process involves generating, refining, and building upon multiple iterations, this seems an appropriate approach to apply to management and leadership practices in arts and cultural organizations.
The authors categorize these perceptions of accountability as “threatening” vs. “worthy challenge.”
Leaders should strive for the second type of accountability, as there is now significant research suggesting that encouraging a growth mindset accelerates individual performance, learning and adaptability, and overall well-being. And because growth-oriented accountability rewards employees for taking risks and encourages a growth mindset, it has knock-on benefits for team culture. In particular, it compels people to find solutions to the mistakes others have made rather than blaming or shaming them.
The three accountability methods they identify are: Think Ahead, Own Your Commitments, and Anchor on Solutions.
Think Ahead involves envisioning and communicating what success looks like to staff, including any difficulties staff may encounter. The example given in the article is a client that often interrupts to ask questions, but similar situations occur in arts and cultural environments in terms of details known about attendees, groups, board members, etc. The challenge to Thinking Ahead is being able to empathize with the person(s) being assigned the task. Not only in terms of what questions they may have on details you take for granted, but anticipating that they may be intimidated by a situation that wouldn’t ruffle you.
Own Your Commitments is essentially holding yourself to the same standard as employees and modeling the behavior for them rather than taking a “do as I say, not as I do approach.” The authors point out that if employees are held accountable for meeting certain benchmarks but their leaders are allowed slack, the dichotomy can cause all sorts of issues.
An arts organization related example that immediately comes to mind are policies like ticket changes, rental refunds, etc. Often it does fall to a leader to bend policies to accommodate certain people and situations. In those situations it is important to confirm that staff made the right decision with their initial refusal rather than blaming them for not knowing they were dealing with an important person and should have made an exception. The other approach is to explain why the decision to bend policy was made and either empower employees to make that decision themselves within that context or give them permission to pass the decision up the chain without repercussions.
Finally, Anchor on Solutions is essentially the practice of acknowledging errors and problems are part of becoming more skilled and productive. It is about reflecting, discussing, and seeking solutions rather than focusing on assigning blame.
Anchoring on solutions means letting go of blame and working to make things better. It means debriefing deeply on both wins and failures, and constantly seeking creative ways of solving problems instead of reasons for failure. Like owning your commitments, anchoring on solutions is a learnable skill that is heavily influenced by the actions of others around us. Therefore, leaders need to be intentional about focusing on the way forward, not on finding out whose fault it is.
It wasn’t finished in a day. In fact, it’s still not finished.
But the day someone said, “this is Rome,” and announced the project, it was there.
Sometimes we get hung up on the beginning, unwilling to start Rome unless we’re sure we can finish it without incident.
I appreciate his suggestion that things come into being when they are acknowledged as existing and being named. Yet something can have an acknowledged existence and not be complete. In the process things are discarded and destroyed and other things remain just as there are parts of Rome which have endured as well as have gone from existence. Or like the Colosseum it both exists as a construction people visit, albeit in a partially destroyed state, but also has some of its constituent parts which were carted away contributing to other structures in the city.
Essentially a version of the Ship of Theseus where some discarded parts are recycled and others destroyed even as others have been added.
In that context as Godin says, we can’t go into the start of some endeavor with too much expectation about the form success will take lest we become paralyzed conceptualizing all of what will be required. That is as true about initiating a creative project as it is building a city or creating ourselves.
There was a day when you came into being. Was it the day of your birth or sometime later when your personality and personal philosophy developed? Are you still being built and who is doing the building?
One of the things she emphasizes is that the catch all term roadie tends to obfuscate the diversity of jobs touring crews perform and creates the impression they only contribute physical strength rather than a high degree of technical skill.
The size of a crew is determined by the scale of a tour and the needs of musicians, but they typically include the following: tour manager, production manager, instrument technicians, monitor engineer, front of house engineer, lighting technician and merchandise staff (known as “merch”).
[…]
The term “roadie” falsely suggests that crew members’ roles are interchangeable and undifferentiated. For this reason, although “roadie” was once the accepted term, it has generally fallen out of favour. Now, many crew members prefer a more specific occupational title.
The rejection of the term “roadie” also represents a wider shift in the culture and professionalism of live music and distances these workers from the stereotypes and cliches associated with the mythologising of rock music culture.
Thinking that free or discounted tickets will increase accessibility and loyalty is something of a pet peeve of mine. Yesterday I commented on a post Sean Kelly of Vatic made on LinkedIn where he noted that people who didn’t want to use dynamic pricing for their events that were selling well would willingly discount or comp tickets to a show that was selling poorly. The connection I saw in that statement is that any pricing change you implement in response to perceived level of demand was essentially dynamic pricing.
There were a couple of statements made in their data analysis about pricing, satisfaction, access, and free admission to which I wanted to call attention. First of all, in general, they found that just because someone perceives something to be expensive, it doesn’t mean they feel the experience wasn’t worth the cost. People understand that a quality experience costs money.
In fact, lower cost experiences often receive lower satisfaction scores for various reasons, including the obvious fact that not charging a lot means you have less capacity to offer a quality experience:
Free and low-cost cultural entities generally have lower guest satisfaction rates, intentions to revisit, and willingness to return. Again, this is because people generally “pay for what they value and value what they pay for,” and it is consistent with ongoing research we continue to collect regarding perceptions of free vs. paid-admission organizations.
Also, it’s likely that at least some free and low-cost museums really do have lesser guest experiences! After all, they are likely reliant on another source of revenue than the gate and they may be more cash-strapped than other cultural entities that have alternative funding sources.
What really caught my attention was their admonition against equating diverse audiences and affordable access audiences:
However, diverse audiences and affordable access audiences are not the same. Indeed, it can be very problematic to assume that diverse audiences and affordable access audiences comprise the same groups of people. (More directly: It is dangerous and incorrect to associate the idea of diversity with the idea of affordable access.)
I suspect part of what they consider problematic is equating being low-income with being a person of color. One of the data points presented from the research was that the belief that an organization is “for people like me” was lowest among those perceived to be least expensive which already starts to cast some doubts on using free admission to diversify attendance. In part this may be related to low revenue meaning you may lack the funds to support efforts to make a broader segment of the community feel welcome.
But from the analysis provided by Dilenschneider and the folks at IMPACTS it may also be that many of these entities aren’t really making any efforts beyond just offering free admission:
Being free is not the same as being welcoming. Some free and low-admission organizations treat their admission strategy as the near-entirety of their audience expansion efforts. However, free admission organizations do not have notably different audiences than paid-admission organizations. Just because something is free doesn’t mean people who don’t have interest (perhaps because they feel unwelcome) will do it. We see time and time again that free admission is not a foolproof audience expansion strategy with reliably positive impacts on welcoming perceptions. Being perceived as welcoming requires strategy, effort, thoughtful programing, prioritization and – often – investment. It’s not as simple as putting a “free” sign on the door.
A recent post from Colleen Dilenschneider and the folks at IMPACTS analyzes survey data that shows trust in cultural organizations has grown since the pandemic. Trust in cultural entities exceeds that of media sources, state and federal agencies and non-governmental organizations. Among the more interesting insights from the data is that from 2010 to 2019, the level of trust for cultural organizations held relatively steady with values indicating mild agreement with the concept of trust associated with these organizations. Since 2020 however, the values increased to the level of agree and strongly agree with being able to trust those types of organizations.
I usually make relatively lengthy posts when writing about research results from Dilenschneider and her colleagues, but today I am going to offer a single excerpt that stood out to me regarding the cause of this shift in sentiment: (my emphasis)
At the same time, many cultural organizations experienced business disruptions. Some were closed for weeks or months at a time and unable to deliver the usual “visit us today” messaging. Instead, many cultural institutions began offering online experiences like virtual curator talks and trips behind the scenes. They put on educational programs and developed materials for families and schools grappling with virtual learning. In short, they proved relevance beyond their walls. They weren’t only talking about being places anymore. They also proved they were community resources.
Readers will probably also note that by shifting from visit us messaging to delivering content to communities, the organizations were focusing externally rather than internally. The organizations were trying to offer content they felt would entertain, educated, and engage people rather than primarily focus the artistic excellence of the organization and artists.
I saw a lot of organizations develop fun, clever, engaging voices for themselves through digital offerings during the pandemic. Much of the content was new information for me and I didn’t find it dumbed down. If anything, it often made me do some additional research. I am thinking maybe I need to go back and see if they are maintaining or expanded on that voice after restrictions lifted or did they shift back to more internally focused visit us today approach.
The Western Arts Federation (WESTAF), the regional arts organization serving the western portion of the US turns 50 this year. They put out a series of videos on the history of the organization. I started watching them out of idle curiosity.
Some of the history is as you might expect with the different social and political influences which lead to their formation. The first headquarters being in Santa Fe, NM but the operational considerations of sending touring artists out resulting in the decision to move to Denver which was a bigger airport hub. Though Salt Lake City was apparently also under consideration based on a newspaper clipping appearing in a video.
What was really interesting was the story about how they decided to focus on technology for the arts. I knew each of the regional arts organizations has a different focus, but I hadn’t known that WESTAF’s focus on technology was based in a desire to diversify the organization’s income stream so that they weren’t entirely dependent on grants and donations. Episodes two and three talk about all the different products they have developed over the last fifty years.
However, there were a number of services they offered which didn’t quite succeed or were very useful but were phased out as needs of the industry changed. One of their first endeavors as the World Wide Web emerged on the scene was Circuit Riders, the goal of which was to connect arts organizations with consultants who could help them integrate emerging technologies into their operations. There was also a phone line, 900Arts which you could call for advice. In the first year Circuit Riders was in operation, they completed 144 contracts, but after three years it was closed down due to budget and staffing constraints.
In 1998, the Arts Computer program, was created to provide computers and sophisticated software to arts organizations at a low cost. Apparently the approach was to lease the computers and software to arts organizations. That only lasted a year. One interviewee suggested that the program was difficult to administer and the narration suggests that the exploding availability and use of personal computers decreased the need for the service.
WESTAF saw more success with their online job board, Artjob.org which started as a monthly newsletter in 1991, was distributed by email in 1993, and became a website that ran from 1998 to 2015. The video also talks about Artist Register launched in 2001, which pre-Google searches was a place for visual artists to market themselves. Based on the success of that service, WESTAF created WritersRegister and PerformingArts Register to serve artists in those areas.
Current and former staff interviewed for the video series credit former WESTAF Anthony Radich with the vision to offer these services, accompanied by a supportive board who allowed space for some of the initiatives to fail.
There are currently three videos in the series with a short intro video and the promise of more to come. They videos are each only about 10-15 minutes long and are fun to watch. Not every product WESTAF created was an exercise in trying to anticipate an unmet need in the arts industry. ZAPP apparently was a response to Kodak discontinuing the carousel slide projectors that so many arts festivals depended on to jury artist submissions. (I am sure artists are immensely grateful they don’t have to mail off piles of slides any more.)
Seth Godin made a post a week or so ago about the need to track things that are really important, but invisible to us or transpire gradually. I sense there is something valuable for arts and cultural organizations in what he has to say, but I am having a difficult time trying to figure out how to accurately track these things. I am hoping readers may have some idea.
In his post he writes:
Gas-powered leaf blowers would disappear if the smoke they belched out was black instead of invisible.
And few people would start smoking if the deposits on their lungs ended up on their face instead.
We’re not very good at paying attention to invisible or gradual outputs.
The trick is simple: If it’s important, make it visible. If it happens over time, create a signal that brings the future into the present.
One of the first things that occurred to me as important, but may transpire gradually is employee or audience dissatisfaction. But how do you accurately track and signal this situation? How do you know whether a dozen individual complaints are related to each other or independent rumblings? In hindsight it is easier to see that comments made in a series of staff meetings over the course of a months culminated in the departure of multiple people, but at the time those comments may not have seemed to be related.
Obviously, it is good to have supervisors who are responsive and emotionally intelligent enough to head off these issues, but if the supervisors are only seeing what is happening in their area, they may not feel there is enough of an issue to report it to those with a more global view of the organization.
Conversely, you may notice a gradual increase in audience satisfaction with their experience, but may not be able to pinpoint why. Is it the new ticketing software? The receptions for audiences under 40? The advance emails telling people where to find parking? These are all great ideas and making people happy so let’s keep them and continue to make everyone happy!
Except what you didn’t know was that it was a front of house manager whose infectious enthusiasm and good training transferred through the staff to the audience. When their parents got sick, they moved back to their hometown. Gradually, that lack of leadership and energy seeps out of the experience and audiences aren’t as satisfied. Having no idea this is the cause, you try new innovative programs to which people may respond, but it isn’t quite like it was. Even if you recognize that the departed staff member was a valuable asset that had been lost, you may not realize their work sent imperceptible ripples through the organization.
Godin uses examples where the link between cause and effect is pretty well known. So there are ways to measure leaf blower exhaust that don’t depend on sight and you can monitor lung health in different ways. But there are other situations where there are multiple factors which may contribute to outputs so it is difficult to know which to make visible. What might be relevant in one community may not be in another. The social dynamic of one region of the country may enjoy the enthusiasm of the front of house manager, but it may come across as insincere and cloying in another part of the country.
But I may be overthinking this and/or coming at this from the belief that just because you can measure it, doesn’t mean it is meaningful. Some readers may immediately identify the type invisible or gradual issues Godin may be referencing that are associated with the arts and some relatively objective measures that can be used to track them.
Bloomberg had an article on a trend that presents an opportunity for arts and cultural organizations. In some respects it could be considered rather mundane news – Gen Z Is abandoning dating apps in favor of in person singles events. Arts and cultural organizations have the opportunity to create specific experiences for this group either internally or in partnership with nearby businesses (bars, restaurants, etc.)
Though if there is a group in the community already organizing singles events it would probably be best to work with them to discover what sort of experience is most appealing to their participants.
It’s not formally conventional places, like bars or coffee shops, where Gen Zers are looking for potential matches. Think interest-based functions, such as the popular running group Venice Run Club, where new members have to state if they’re single as part of their introduction, or even a late-night chess club.
LA Chess Club, which runs every Thursday night from 8 p.m. to midnight, has become a recent hotspot for singles in Los Angeles in their early to mid-30s….But after the success of a speed dating event Kong hosted on Valentine’s Day in an attempt to get more girls to come, the club morphed into a space singles gravitated toward.
[…]
Pitch-A-Friend Philly, a monthly event series in Philadelphia inspired by Pitch-A-Friend Seattle, encourages participants to share a roughly 5-minute PowerPoint presentation about their single friends to help them find a potential partner.
According to some of those interviewed for the article, the appeal of singles events organized around board games, movie screenings, dinners, brunches and other activities, is the opportunity to interact with people with shared interests in an environment that differs from the bar/coffee house/nightclub nightclub scene where you might be bothered by overly insistent people when you might want to be left alone.
Those are among the considerations that arts and cultural organizations might need to factor into any attempt to design singles experiences.
Here is something of a metaphoric lesson for arts and cultural organizations about changing the nature of the experience you offer to align with the needs and expectations of your customers. Bloomberg CityLab recently had a piece about how the work from home trend and loosening office dress codes are impacting shoe shine services. Basically, fewer people are going to the office and an increasing number of those who are heading in to work are wearing sneakers.
As a result, many shoe shine businesses are shifting to sneaker cleaning services. People may be going to work in sneakers, but they still want to look neat and put together. It appears that people may be less confident in their ability to clean their sneakers themselves than shining their shoes.
“The industry isn’t the same anymore” said Charlie Colletti, owner of Cobbler Express, a third-generation shoeshine and repair shop in Lower Manhattan. “We’ll do some sneaker work, we clean sneakers, you know, try to keep up with the times.”
Sneaker-cleaning services helped Anthony’s Shoe Repair, near Grand Central Terminal, survive the pandemic. Like shining dress shoes, it’s a specialized service. “Many people do not know how to clean them,” owner Teodoro Morocho said. “You need the right equipment and material to be able to do it well.”
At the end of the article, Charlie Colletti quoted above says in the 1990s he was super busy, had a contract with Merrill Lynch, and about 16 employees. Again this has parallels with arts organizations who remember having packed houses of subscribers. Except in this case, instead of those core audiences getting older and younger audiences not replacing them, the cobblers and shoe shine companies are facing a change in work environment and style choices.
Whether it is arts and culture or shoes, people are seeking a heightened experience, but want to be more comfortable doing it.
"Though while the author wishes they could buy it in Walmart..." Who is "they"? The kids? The author? Something else?…