“If Only…” Only If You Are Committed

by:

Joe Patti

One of the most interesting This American Life shows that I have come across and have listened to a couple times is about an auto manufacturing plant that Toyota and GM built in partnership.

When Japanese cars were outselling American cars by a wide margin, people wanted to know why. What was it about the way the Japanese made their cars that made buying one preferable to American cars.

Toyota told GM everything holding nothing back. (from the episode transcript)

Frank Langfitt Schaefer says when he realized how much of the Japanese system happened off the factory floor, it answered something that had never quite made sense to him. Why had Toyota been so open with GM in showing its operations?

Ernie Schaefer You know, they never prohibited us from walking through the plant, understanding, even asking questions of some of their key people. You know, I’ve often puzzled over that– why they did that. And I think they recognized we were asking all the wrong questions.

We didn’t understand this bigger picture thing. All of our questions were focused on the floor, you know? The assembly plant. What’s happening on the line. That’s not the real issue. The issue is, how do you support that system with all the other functions that have to take place in the organization?

If you listen to the episode or read the transcript, you can learn about the exact details. The bottom line was that GM didn’t have the will to implement all the changes to their procedures and corporate culture that would allow them to replicate Toyota’s successes.

The same applies to any effort to effect change in any group, company or organization. The words “If only…” are often uttered implying if a simple change was made, everything else would fall into place. If only we hired/fired a person. If only we had a little more money or a different opportunity.

While a simple change often can change the entire dynamics, the will or natural inclination to reach a certain goal already has to be present. In organizations and groups where there is truly one bad apple souring things among others who are already making positive efforts, a single change may result in an immediate and significant improvement.

Otherwise, you can get rid of a person who is poisoning the work environment, but the environment isn’t going to get any better if there are still 10 other people making disparaging comments and undermining each other. Hiring a charismatic leader who has brought constructive change to other organizations isn’t going to be effective if the board or employees aren’t committed to following the leader’s plan for improvement.

Much like the This American Life episode, the solutions to many of our problems can be found in business journal articles, blog posts and conference sessions, no secrets withheld. Without the will to commit to the full range of changes necessary to implement them, those strategies, procedures and techniques aren’t your solutions.

I do a lot of preaching here on the blog about what people should be doing better, but I don’t necessarily do them myself. I don’t see anything criminally inconsistent or hypocritical in that because I am clearly aware that some of those techniques are not suited for my current situation or is there the will to make them manifest.

It is all worth talking about because it raises awareness for other people and cultivates and evolves the general perspective about the arts. There are things that we weren’t ready to undertake in the past that we started to grow into.

Got Stagefright?

by:

Joe Patti

In the process of trying to convince people of the value of attending a live event, performing arts people will often cite the opportunity for chaos. They will say something along the lines of a recording will be the same every time, but in a live performance, anything can happen.

I wonder if this is really fair to the performers and crew that worked on the show because it essentially tells the audience they should be rooting, just a little, for something to go wrong.

It may seem relatively harmless, especially if you aren’t out there loudly proclaiming the certain death of the lion tamer or acrobat who operates without a net. There are a lot of performers out there who (mostly) quietly suffer from stage fright and even just a little hype can exacerbate their anxiety.

A book review in the New Yorker last August recounts some of the more famous/infamous instances of stage fright suffered by Daniel Day-Lewis,  Laurence Olivier and Glenn Gould, among others. It talks about the different things that weigh on performer’s minds, no matter how hard they try, including whether they can live up to the legend that has been attached to them.

The audience rooting against them or judging them is among the anxieties they suffer:

Some performers displace this cruelty onto the audience. The pianist Charles Rosen believed that the spectators were out there waiting for the performer to slip up: “The silence of the audience is not that of a public that listens but of one that watches—like the dead hush that accompanies the unsteady movement of the tightrope walker poised over his perilous space.”

[…]

Baryshnikov believes that it is the feeling of obligation to the audience that triggers stagefright: “Suddenly the morality kicks in. These people bought a ticket to your show.”

The problem of stage fright may be more widespread than we are generally aware. In addition to silently coping with the problem, the New Yorker article notes that many artists use beta-blockers to help them deal with their fear. This is not without some controversy.

Some people said they resulted in “phoned in” performances. Some raised the ethical question, asking whether the use of beta-blockers by pianists was any different from the use of steroids by athletes. (There is an important distinction, though. Steroids add to the body, increasing muscle mass in order to improve performance. Beta-blockers remove something from the body—the flutist’s lip tremors, the cellist’s hand tremors—in order to permit the person to produce the kind of performance he has already shown himself capable of, outside the auditorium.)

This reminded me that Drew McManus had written about the issue of “performance enhancing drugs” for musicians a dozen years ago for The Partial Observer.

I briefly thought that a more constructive use of the “anything can happen” phrase might be to associate it with idea that you may see a breakthrough performance or a moment of inspiration and synchronicity that transcends the normal experience.

I quickly realized this approach may increase the anxiety for the audience. “Am I witnessing a transcendent moment? How do I really know? I wasn’t really bowled over, but maybe I missed it. I should probably join the standing ovation just to be sure, right?”

The truth is, live performance has the potential for witnessing some crises and participating in moments of transcendence. To ignore that these opportunities exist does a disservice to the experience. Regardless of whether these factors are mentioned, performers are still going to experience stage fright and audiences are still going to wonder if they are missing something everyone else seems to get.

Not to mention, these experiences aren’t unique to the performing arts. Athletes fear they will lose the edge that makes them great and many spectators find themselves unable to figure out what is going on or why anyone gets excited by the sport in the first place.

While it is generally acknowledged that the arts have to be sensitive to the barriers that may exist for audiences, the same isn’t really true for the performers.

In many other fields of employment there are coaches, counselors and human resource personnel available. Granted, many of these resources are less than perfect. A highly paid athlete is going to get a lot more support and guidance from the team’s infrastructure if they fall into rut than a fast food worker will from their company.

How many theater companies, dance companies and orchestras have a program in place to provide coaching for a performer who has lost their edge? (Actually, the dance company practice of having regular classes might count as that.) Or acknowledge that people might have debilitating stage fright, much less provide help for people who are experiencing it?

I am left wondering how prevalent it is since it isn’t often discussed. Given that seven people, (a fairly large number for that column), commenting on Drew’s Partial Observer admitted to using a drug to deal with anxiety, I suspect it is more prevalent than we imagine.

Becoming Queen of Classical Music Culture

by:

Joe Patti

I was listening to an interview with Chattanooga Symphony and Opera Concertmaster Holly Mulcahy today and there were a couple things said that jumped out at me.

(Not the least of which was interviewer Hugh Sung declaring her “Queen of Classical Music Culture.” Tireless dedication, seeking out exciting new works, blogging, awesome themed dinner parties, she has earned the title)

But seriously, when she was talking about the perennial question about what to wear to the symphony, she made me realize just printing “Whatever you are comfortable wearing” on websites and in program books doesn’t really assuage anxieties people have about that subject. She suggests that people who are making an effort to put themselves out and experiment with a new experience may do everything they can to insure they don’t stand out. They really want to know what everyone else is going to be wearing.

Holly has written more detailed guide that still emphasizes “wear what you want,” but goes on to say “but if you are still worried about what everyone else is wearing…”

As she also points out in the podcast interview, often people view attending an event like a symphony performance as an opportunity to strut out in clothes they don’t often get to wear. Telling them jeans are okay is too low a bar in their eyes.

Back in January, Drew McManus posted about a video a woman created showing how she and her friends made an occasion of attending the symphony.

[vimeo 127883928 w=500 h=281]

Holly also talks about the role of the concert master (around the 16:30 mark). I was aware of some of the things she talked about already, but when she mentioned sometimes she had to make up for a lack of numbers in the string section by playing to create a fuller sound, I wanted to know why. Is the lack due to budget cuts? Could they not find enough available substitutes to fill out their numbers?

One of the more compelling things she talks about is why she walked away from a full time position with one orchestra, turned down a similar position with another orchestra and gave up playing for two months, in part due to the unhealthy environment that she experienced. (~34:00). People thought she was crazy for doing so since competition for any position is so fierce, gaining one is akin to a miracle. Giving one up is akin to apostasy.

These are stories that we seldom hear that we need to hear more of in the arts. Nothing is ever wrong unless contentious contract negotiations go public.

There has been more self-examination in the arts of late which I partially attribute to the fact that the Internet allows people to get their stories out, allows others to realize their experience isn’t unique and allows people to have a conversation about it all. There needs to be more conversation and examination. I expect there will be.

One of the stories Holly told that was most interesting to me was how she got her violin. (~46:00) Since violins are often passed down over centuries, they tend to gather interesting tales around themselves. In her case, she had about given up on finding an instrument that suited her when she happened to run into Eugene Fodor at a violin shop as he was coming in to sell some of his violins.

She describes how Fodor urged her to play Brahms on it and then paced between a couple rooms shouting corrections to her. I think I would have been a wreck, but she loved the instrument and walked away satisfied she had purchased the right violin.

But, We Will Be Careful #FamousLastWords

by:

Joe Patti

The one activity related to performances that regularly is a source of frustration for my staff is getting certificates of liability insurance from people.

This is one of those requirements common to both contracts for venues one is renting to mount a performance and contracts venues/promoters send artists requesting they provide some sort of performance.

I wrote a piece covering what liability insurance is and how to go about getting it for ArtsHacker.

Since the goal of ArtsHacker posts is to provide a relatively quick reference about topics, I didn’t really get too deeply into WHY the coverage is important.

Just a quick explanation for those who don’t want soak in more of my genius on ArtsHacker. Liability insurance,

“protects you (and the spaces in which you work) against lawsuits from the public resulting from accidents, injuries, insults etc. Note: this insurance does NOT cover you or your employees.”  (Source: National Performance Network)

People generally accept that they have to pay to use a space and equipment just like they have to pay for costumes, set pieces, props, musical equipment, etc., all these things make for a better experience. Insurance just seems like an extra unwarranted expense that doesn’t contribute to the success of the event so they resist the requirement to obtain coverage.

About 15 years ago when I first started managing a performance hall I insisted every renter carry this insurance. The first group this applied to grumbled that they were never required to carry it before, but complied. In one of the performances one of their stage hands wasn’t paying attention and lowered our rear projection screen on a row of strip lights melting a lovely long gash right across the screen.

Since that day, I have blessed my insistence that they carry the insurance because that is what paid to get the screen replaced.  Neither the renter or my department could have afforded it. Since then I have never wavered in my determination to require that every renter carry it. I have shown up before load-ins on weekends when I could be relaxing if it was necessary to play the bad guy and refuse a group entry due to lack of insurance coverage.

Fortunately, I have never run into another situation that required an insurance claim to be filed. But there have been dozens of instances where renters damaged something they elected to replace out of pocket. There have been plenty of close calls as well.

For many of the same reasons, it is becoming an increasingly common practice to require performers one has contracted in for an event to carry the insurance. They are bringing in equipment that you are not familiar with. You don’t know how well-maintained it is. They may insist that no one else touch certain equipment. While that prevents you from being blamed for breaking it, you also don’t get a chance to inspect it closely.

So what happens when a speaker stack they built falls into the audience? What happens if a singer starts swinging the microphone overhead and it flies off the cable and someone gets hit? If a sword slips out of someone’s hand during a combat scene? If the lead singer elbows someone in the face while crowd surfing? If a member of the stage crew anchors a hammock to the mechanism that releases the fire curtain in an emergency and takes a nap? (true story)

Do you as the venue want to be responsible for things you have no direct control over like poor condition of equipment and poor decision making?

Many artists’ require that the venue or promoter reciprocate and carry various types of insurance to protect against these exact same issues on their part.

Large shows usually have the liability insurance set up because they know it is going to be required. Smaller groups may not be as familiar with it and don’t carry it as a practice. There can be a lot of negotiation and conversations between all parties involved in these situations.

Occasionally we may waive the requirement for groups we contract to perform if we don’t think there will be much danger of damage. But if you are going to do that, my advice is to have a complete understanding of what the performers are going to do. Don’t just blithely assume classical musicians aren’t going to do something extreme. I have had people raise the lid and remove the music rack on a grand piano so they could set glasses of water on the strings or strike/pluck them with various objects.  (If God wanted a piano played with a claw hammer, he would have designed it that way.)