Yeah, Sometimes It IS Boring

by:

Joe Patti

I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to post about today, but Adam Thurman at Mission Paradox decided me with his post today about reducing the opportunities for audiences to be anxious about their attendance experience.

He starts his post:

When I picture someone entering a live performance venue I imagine a thought bubble above their head. Here’s the thought inside that bubble:

“Man, I hope this doesn’t suck.”

Interestingly enough, that is what I was thinking when I was driving to see a dance show this Saturday. I didn’t have too much basis for real concern since I knew the curators who put the show together and had worked with close to half the groups who would be performing. On the other hand, the event was billed as cross cultural and you never really know how successfully performers will execute their vision of what that means.

I think most of you with any experience in the arts know what I mean. Like me, I am sure you have seen some pretty awful stuff performed right after some pretty good stuff and are uncertain how the night will turn out.

Question is, do most people in our audience members know we have the same concerns abut enjoying the as they do? Do they know we can be worried about not liking the performance or being bored?

I suspect they don’t. I suspect they feel our disappointment with a performance will be expressed in terms of the failure of its attempt to illuminate the futility of the post-modern vision against the fin-de-siecle fatalism of the last decade.

Andrew Taylor once wrote he felt it was counter productive for arts organizations to never admit any program supported by a grant did not perform as planned or better.

“It’s an insight as old as theater — conflict, flaw, and tension are what make narratives compelling. And yet, read through most arts marketing materials or grant applications and what will you find? Perfection, triumph, success, and positive spin. Their performances are always exceptional. Their audiences are always ecstatic. Their reviews are always resounding (or mysteriously missing from the packet). Their communities are always connected and enthralled. In short, they are superhuman, disconnected, and insincere.”

I would say the same is true with audiences. We advertise everything we do as the most exciting and seminal work they will ever see but never concede audiences may not be in ecstasy every moment they are in the theatre. As a result, audiences expect to be in ecstasy and may either decide there is something wrong with them for not feeling amazed or decide they have been had by a bunch of B.S.

One of my favorite episodes in Drew McManus’ “Take A Friend To The Orchestra” program came about 6 years ago when Drew took the brother of WNYC Sound Check host, John Schaefer, to a concert by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Jerry Schaefer had never been to an orchestral concert before. One of the parts that impressed me the most was that Drew admitted that he often gets bored at times during a concert and that it was okay to be bored at times.

I am not suggesting a full confessional after every performance outlining everything that went wrong. One common theme on this blog has been the idea that we need to speak about the arts experience in everyday life –when we are waiting online in the supermarket, at parties and picnics, in elevators and on buses. I am not talking about announcing your boosterism aloud in public places, but rather getting people to talk about their experiences, fears, anxieties, passions, etc., in relation to the arts. Part of that conversation needs to be acknowledging that, yeah sometimes it is boring; sometimes is it bad; sometimes it is confusing, even for those of us with a lot of experience.

The benefit people in the performing arts have as audience members when it comes to artists who are not household names is that we may often know more about the artist’s reputation than most. We can enter a performance space or gallery with a higher degree of confidence about the experience than others might.

This isn’t a peculiar characteristic of the arts, it just comes with exposure and experience. Sports fans will know what match ups are likely to be most exciting than will a new attendee to a game. Sports fans will recognize when a high stakes situation is developing while a novice allows their attention to wander.

While there are entire cable channels and sections of newspapers dedicated to educating people about why certain sports match ups will be exciting, the Arts and Entertainment channel shifted its focus in other directions and newspapers are dropping their culture reporting. The arts have to mostly rely on word of mouth and those with the most knowledge aren’t really speaking often or in a compelling manner that acknowledges the beauty and the flaws that make the beauty all the more remarkable.

And believe me, I include myself among those not communicating in a basic, honest manner devoid of marketing spin.

Funding The In Between Places

by:

Joe Patti

Scott Walters over at Theatre Ideas has been looking at how the National Endowment for the Arts distributed funds for its “Our Town” grant program. In the last three posts on the topic, he has been critical of the way the granting process is structured and executed, perceiving a surprising bias against rural communities given that it takes its name from Thornton Wilder’s play set in a rural location.

Scott’s initial criticism sort of deflated my sails when, by his criteria, the award to the Wallkill River School, Inc. in Orange County, NY where I grew up was not being made to a rural arts organization given the population of the county. I was excited to see that their project whose purpose is “To support the development of economic strategies for long-term, sustainable partnerships between the arts and agriculture in Orange County,” was funded.

I have to concede that the population has increased quite a bit since I was growing up and its psychological distance from New York City has diminished since then. (Though it still qualifies as “way upstate” in minds of NYC residents.)

I was also happy to see that the Trey McIntyre Project (TMP), headquartered in Boise, ID had gotten a grant. (Full disclosure, we will be presenting the dance company in Spring 2012.) Though it isn’t rural per se, Boise qualifies as fly over country in many people’s minds. I have found Trey McIntyre’s decision to locate there rather than NY, Chicago or L.A. to be commendable—and so has the population of Boise who treat them like celebrities. The group has made great efforts to expand the concept of a dance company’s place in the community by appearing anywhere and everywhere from flash mob like performances to dancing at the local NBA farm team games to creating their own art installation in a hotel room (forward to 3:30 to hear McIntyre talk about the installation)

I was also very happy to see a local burgeoning effort in support of Hawaiian culture was funded as well. I can probably devote an entry explaining how valuable this award is going to be in planting seeds for greater things.

All this being said, I felt Walters did a credible job in his entry today arguing that many elements of the application and review process placed rural arts organizations at a disadvantage.

As Walters acknowledge in his analysis on Monday, the NEA did make an attempt to enlist the participation of arts centers in rural areas and didn’t receive a very strong response. However, in reviewing the comments on his failed grant application, Walter notes that the criteria being used to evaluate his application wasn’t appropriate for the project he was proposing.

“When I consulted the NEA as to why my own “Our Town” grant was not funded, the notes from the review committee focused on excellence: WHO is going to be providing the art, and what are their credentials? Notice that my proposal was for a participatory arts program, and so the artists would be members of the community, not imported “professionals” from outside the community. Participatory arts, as the NEA knows from having recently published it own studies on the subject, is about enhancing the creativity of the citizenry. Credentials and press coverage are irrelevant.”

He also notes that since rural arts organizations don’t have large staffs, the three weeks notice they were given between being invited to apply and the deadline was barely enough time to compose a proposal. When they made it past the first stage, they were given only a month to assemble a complete proposal, an immense task given the length of the application and the limited staff with which to do it. These small staffs may also lack the experience and advisers to guide them in infusing the grants with the polish that granters like the NEA have come to expect.

I actually faced a similar situation here. A grant program sponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities specifically focused on community colleges was announced in June with a deadline in August. One of the things they are looking for is involving up to 12 other colleges in a partnership. So not only do you need to try to assemble a work group of professors and administrators on your own campus during the summer after everyone has scattered to the winds, you have to get buy in from the same nearly non-existent groups on other campuses as well!

Via the citation of a comment by Ian David Moss, Walters wonders if the NEA is suited and equipt to directly pursue its mandate of geographically diverse funding. He discards Moss’ idea of directing more funding to trusted partners in rural states and letting them make decisions in favor of asking the NEA to become more accountable by cultivating stronger relationships with organization that work closely with rural arts groups and making a better effort to recruit people with an understanding of rural arts operations to serve on grant review panels.

While I disagree with Walters’ criteria about what constitutes rural, I am generally with him about the need to make the grant process more accessible to arts organizations in small communities. A decade ago, heck, even 5 years ago, I would have said the NEA faced an immense task trying to identify and reach out to rural organizations. But with email and social media, it is fairly easy to create focused email lists and Twitter feeds with which to deliver information to these groups.

It is just a matter of enlisting the rural arts service organizations that provide support to these groups to assist them in making them aware of the channels the NEA will be using to communicate with them. As Walters suggests, a time table and structure that recognizes both the limitations and different array of opportunities specific to rural arts organizations. Given how few organizations applied, even an increase of participation by a handful of groups will allow the NEA to claim a many fold percent growth in rural program support.

Is It The Mastery Of The Medium Or The Idea That Makes Good Art

by:

Joe Patti

Daniel Grant had a piece on the Huffington Post about a new trend in visual arts M.F.A. programs where training is tailored to students’ particular interests. He references the programs at New York’s School of Visual Arts which has a traditional program and a multi-disciplinary degree in arts practice.

“The traditional MFA is media-specific; you are a painter, you are a sculptor, you are a printmaker, and you study those processes intensely,” said David Ross, the chairman of the Art Practice MFA program. “The Art Practice program is for artists working in more hybrid areas, incorporating a number of different media or selecting the particularly medium based on what they are trying to accomplish at a given time. Many schools now see artists choosing to define themselves post-conceptually, in which the idea comes first and the medium comes second, and these artists are more difficult for the traditional program to accommodate.”

There seems to be similar programs at the Maryland Institute College of Art and at the Herron School of Art and Design at Indiana University which has an MFA in Visual Art and Public Life. Grant describes the students in the Herron School program:

“Their focus is not so much creating something that can be exhibited in a gallery or even in a public square as it is developing projects in association with various business, community, cultural or governmental partners.”

I haven’t quite figured out what I think about these developments. My first thought was to wonder if perhaps these programs might be an outgrowth of the Pro-Am movement. If not directly related to or a result of Pro-Am, perhaps these programs are an expression of a general sentiment of people who are not complete experts but who are looking for a way to better express themselves.

Obviously, people who are seeking training at master’s level have a desire to be a little closer to the professional end of the scale. With a primary focus on the expression of an idea over mastery of a medium, there is much they have in common with the Pro-Am view of art creation and expression.

What I find encouraging is that these artists are looking to develop partnerships with different entities in the community. Their approach to art may result in people viewing it as more accessible and less intimidating. It looks like there is more inclusiveness in the process these artists use. It also appears as if these art students are being trained in business and social skills that can help with their careers upon graduation.

What contributes to my uncertainty is a concern that having a secondary focus on the medium will mean the students will lack the mastery to create truly innovative works. I know that the value of an art work is often more than just the adept use of materials. On the other hand, people wouldn’t value a Stradivarius if making a violin was just a matter of assembling wood well. Experimentation and understanding of how different materials interact when you combine or treat them in different ways can be a crucial to one’s development as an artist.

I am not suggesting artists be relegated to the solitary confinement of their studios. I don’t believe that is ultimately constructive for artists and their work. I also don’t think that the jack of all trades, master of none approach is valuable to artists in the long run.

I am thinking of a recent blog post by Tom Loughlin suggesting that BFA degree programs in Musical Theatre should be eliminated. In the post he points out that in the current state of the industry, those trying to train themselves to be a triple threat- someone who can act, sing and dance – will be beaten out by people trained to be specialists in those areas.

I am not saying that the generalist artist won’t create interesting works of artistic merit. I read the quote by Kenneth Krachek, director of the community arts program at the Maryland Institute College of Art where he says, “all the programs are supportive of each other, but they each have their own momentum and solar system.” Other MFA fine art students at the school “don’t interact much with us,” and that didn’t sound like an ideal dynamic to be cultivating.

I wondered if it might not serve people in both the traditional and new degree tracks if they were encouraged as students to follow a process where the generalist is mentored by the specialist of a specific discipline in the creation of a project. If this was continued when the students graduated and went out to work professionally this collaborative arrangement could be beneficial to both. The specialist would bring experience and knowledge of working in a particular medium. The generalist would bring a the experience of working with community entities and creating work for them rather solely for a gallery.

My Butt Among The Seats

by:

Joe Patti

Thanks to the hard work of Inside the Arts mother hen, Drew McManus, Butts in the Seats has a new look.

And if I can figure out how to fully exploit some of the new features I see on the new post creation page, hopefully it will result in a better experience for readers.

Some elements of the new look represent a bit of an evolution/maturation in the way I view my online presence. When I started the blog, I wanted to maintain a sense of being an Every Man, or in this case, Every Arts Manager. I didn’t want people to read the blog and think that the things I was talking about only really applied to one particular discipline of the performing arts or one particular geographic region.

As a result I tried to stay vague in some of the details of my writing, often to protect the identities of some of those I was criticizing, but also to try to give readers a sense that the same situation might apply to them. The gymnastics I had to engage in to avoid providing details was often tougher than writing the posts themselves and probably added an element of awkwardness to my prose.

My plan is to move away from that a bit more. Some generalization is likely to remain in my writing, but I will try to provide more identifiable and specific references in the future.

I am also more identifiable on my blog. Except for a small headshot in my section banner on the central Inside the Arts site, there wasn’t any indication of what I looked like. On the new site, there is a 3/4 body shot of me in my theatre in the About the Author section. I make no warranties about whether knowing what I look like will enhance your reading pleasure, but there it is.

I have also found myself coming across a number of interesting links related to the subject of arts management lately. However, there is more information than I can blog on in a timely manner so I have finally relented and created a Twitter account for the blog at http://www.twitter.com/buttsintheseats. Links to my blog posts will appear there alongside other information pertinent to arts management I wish to share.

Hope you like the new look. Thanks for reading!