Process Knows Its Limits

by:

Joe Patti

A post on Drucker Exchange, When Process Is a Prison, got me thinking about ticket office operations. I am sure the content of the entry could be applied to a hundred things that happen every day in arts organizations, but that is what bubbled to the top in my mind.

“Procedures can only work where judgment is no longer required, that is, in the repetitive situation for whose handling the judgment has already been supplied and tested,” Drucker wrote in The Practice of Management. “In fact, it is the test of a good procedure that it quickly identifies the situations that, even in the most routine of processes, do not fit the pattern but require special handling and decision based on judgment.”

I pretty much started the trajectory of my arts management career in the box office a couple decades ago. Since then the rules governing exchanges, returns and other transactions have seemed to move from matters of policy and procedure to matters of judgement. These days having a ticket office manager you can trust to make good judgments on behalf of the organization is as, if not more, important than their technical ability to troubleshoot the computer system you are using to sell your tickets.

Granted, box office operations are probably technically more a matter of policy than procedure, but Drucker’s general sentiment applies.

The ticket office has always been viewed as the first place of contact with customers where good manners and efficient processing of orders is prized. But now customer service interactions are almost more important than the product being sold, given customer expectations and their ability to almost instantly report their disappointment to 1000 of their closest friends.

Consistently providing good service doesn’t necessarily mean treating everyone equally because everyone views their situation as special and may expect you to have some degree of awareness of those circumstances. This is why customer relationship management (CRM) software is viewed as so important by businesses at large (though you wouldn’t know it when you call your cable or cell phone provider). Many arts organizations don’t have the resources to support sophisticated CRM software so human judgment and good note keeping becomes all the more important for them.

Perhaps my perception of the change is based on the fact that I have gradually moved into a position of generating the policy rather than enforcing it and I am a big softy. But I suspect there are many others who will confirm that things have changed from the 70s and 80s when it was “No Refunds, No Exchanges, No Exceptions” for non-subscribers. Now it is more akin to “No Refunds, No Exchanges, Except for the Exceptions.”

As Drucker is quoted, the best procedure recognizes those times that are exceptions to the procedure. I think that some times changing environment requires you to recognize that it is no longer useful to maintain set policies and procedures in favor of general guidelines and good judgment.

Software Update As An Exercise of Artistic License

by:

Joe Patti

Earlier this week I was reading an article about the practical consequences of receiving content and updates from “the Cloud.”

Previously, I had read a little bit about how we are really renting rather than buying content. This article reinforces that noting how “upgrades” actually removed features or content that people had specifically opted to purchase.

I started to think, “ah, soon the arts will be the only provider of authentic content..,” except that hasn’t been the case for decades, if ever.

I am not sure about the other disciplines, but in theatre there has long been a battle between the content creators and the interpreters over the faithful depiction of the creator’s work.

Performing groups will omit content for considerations like running time and language or cast people of the opposite gender in a role. The standard royalties contract requires you to perform the show as written, at least dialogue wise. Some playwrights/lyricists/composers will actually specify that you can not under any circumstances cut or change specific elements of their show.

Others will actually provide permission to make changes with suggestions on how it can be accomplished.

With situations like Amazon removing and changing content from people’s Kindles and Tesla using a software update to remove a feature people paid $2250 for, both done without telling people it was happening, it seems like a good time to revisit the idea of whether it is suitable to make changes to a performance and represent it as the original.

There has been a lot of discussion about sampling other people’s work and representing it as your own. While censorship is an eternal topic of conversation, there generally isn’t as much conversation about changing someone else’s work and still representing it as their’s.

Content creators often make specific choices in the expressions of their vision that they feel are crucial to what they are trying to communicate. Replacing all the cursing in David Mamet’s plays with “darn it” changes everything about the dynamics between the characters. He would probably be horrified to have his name associated with a production of American Buffalo that inserted fiddlesticks for every utterance of f–k.

Adaptation and artistic license has been a common feature of the arts. When a musician announces that they are going to play a song by someone else, you can be reasonably certain that there are going to be alterations from the original.

However, when dealing with content with which the average viewer is not familiar, is it honest to claim to be performing a work if you have made crucial changes?

For example, Hamlet is one of Shakespeare’s longer plays, so maybe you decide to cut the scene where Hamlet speaks to the players of “the play within the play” about his intent to entrap his uncle with a thinly veiled depiction of Hamlet’s father’s murder. Rather, you choose to reference the scheme briefly when the uncle reacts strongly to seeing the scene.

This decision removes the famous “Speak the speech I pray you…” speech and arguably weakens the show by removing a demonstration of Hamlet’s character development. Though since you cut it, you would argue that it wasn’t so important.

However, the real question is, if you don’t tell people about all the cuts and changes you made, are you defrauding your audience by letting them think they are buying tickets to the authentic product? They wanted the experience of seeing Hamlet. You diluted it by removing some important parts.

This is a debate that can get tossed back and forth for a long time. It seems an interesting situation to consider in the context of a consumer’s ever decreasing status as an owner of content.

Is there any difference between softening perceived Anti-semitism in a performance of Merchant of Venice in the name of artistic vision and Amazon agreeing to remove the N-word from electronic copies of Huckleberry Finn sold to certain school districts because their vision is that Huck be less racist?

It has started to occur to me that as people begin to consume content via media that can be altered without notice or detection, artists may actually have less scope for claiming artistic licenses lest they end up providing justification for widespread revisionism.

Ironically, it may prove to have been easier to claim artistic freedom and expression when there was a definitive source both you and your detractors could agree you were diverging from. How can you claim your interpretation is a rejection of the rampant injustice embodied by the original if you can’t be sure if what you are reacting to is the original sentiment or some latter action?

And why are you so upset anyway when you can work to get the offensive content revised to your liking?

How Long Before You Lose Patience?

by:

Joe Patti

Ah, truer words were never spoken!

Maybe I am reading the wrong blogs, but I am surprised none of my usual sources haven’t already quoted this recent post by Seth Godin, “Who is this marketing for?”

-Who, precisely, are you trying to reach?
-What change are you trying to make?
-How will you know if it’s working?
-How long before you will lose patience?
-How long before someone on your team gets to change the mission?
-How much time and money are you prepared to spend?
-Who gets to approve this work?
-Who are you trying to please or impress?

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry about how true these are. He suggests asking these before you embark on a marketing campaign in order to save time and money.

All are valid questions, but some are created more valid than others. The first three and how much time and money, are smart to ask. The rest need to be asked, but usually aren’t.

“-How long before you will lose patience?” was the one that jumped out at me because even when there isn’t any ego involved, that ends up being the biggest failing of any marketing campaign. In fact, most people will say if you aren’t taking the long, holistic view, you are probably engaged in advertising rather than marketing.

Marketing is a long term game usually involving multiple parts, aimed at shifting perception as much as selling product. If you are ending it because your patience has run out due to lack of sales rather than lack of shift in perception over the course of months, then you are probably doing it wrong.

But even when you are doing advertising just to sell product, a degree of patience to allow sufficient exposure is definitely required and I will certainly cop to not investing enough time and resources into let advertising permeate the public consciousness.

Person Who….

by:

Joe Patti

Margy Waller tweeted a link to an article which theorized that using the term “People on Bikes” rather than “cyclists” would help improve road safety by humanizing the bike riders.

I immediately wondered if there was any benefit, internally and externally, to changing the terminology applied to arts patrons. (Instead of, for example, “arts patron.”) The article starts out saying that even for those who ride bikes, the term cyclist evokes the image of a hardcore enthusiast who has uses specialized equipment and clothing like a high end bike and spandex bike shorts.

The arts have the same image problem with people perceiving arts patrons as being hardcore afficinados with a set dress code and specialized knowledge.

Replace the word “biking” with “arts attendance” and “cyclist” with “arts patron” in the next paragraph and you have a sentiment drawn straight from an arts blog or conference. (I don’t know that arts patron is the wrong term to use, I just employ it for want of a clearly alienating term.)

“From an advocacy standpoint, getting rid of the word “cyclist” removes perceptual barriers that prevent people from trying biking in the first place, says Dave Snyder, executive director of the California Bicycle Coalition. “It makes biking accessible to anyone, and diminishes the sense of biking as an activity for a subculture or one that requires an ‘identity’ to engage in. Someone who has a bike in their house somewhere and only occasionally rides it and never would consider themselves a ‘cyclist’ is someone we should definitely reach out to.”

The poster by Bike Pittsburgh featured in the article looks exactly like posters and banners I have seen arts organizations use to show that their employees performed every day functions in the community.

This may seem like silly semantics, but the article argues that the active “people who X” humanizes the entity more than the passive label.

“Try saying “people who drive” instead of “drivers,” or “people who walk” instead of “pedestrians.” Suddenly this passive, faceless term that usually connotes a victim or someone at fault turns into a more active, visual description of an actual human who is choosing to do something. I can identify more with a “person who drives” or a “person who walks” or a “person who uses a wheelchair” or a “person who rides the bus” or a “person on a Segway,” even if I don’t do any of those things, because I understand, even beyond their mode of transit, they’re still people.”

So my first question is, are there terms like patron, community, attendee that tends to make us apply a generic identity on people instead of individualizing them?

Second question is, what term should be used? “Person who attends dance” denies someone’s identity as a person who attends theater, concerts, museums, etc.

“Person who participates in the arts” seemed the best bet to me. It avoids the hardcore stigma of “person who is enthusiastic about the arts” and is more active than “one who enjoys the arts.”

In addition to being unwieldy terminology, I know this sounds like saccharine soaked political correctness. But these things can make a difference. The idea of viewing people as brains rather than butts in the seats I wrote about a couple years ago, for example.

I am actually somewhat more interested in the internal benefits of a language change than shifting attitudes externally, though I would welcome any campaign that could achieve that.

Long ago I worked at a place where the box office kept a list of all the stupid things they were asked on the back of the door. I didn’t think having staff constantly reminded that their customers were dopes was very conducive to good service. Even if they were consciously being as pleasant as they could, that list was eroding their respect unconsciously.

So I wonder what might change if an organization’s staff started referring to customers as “people who love the arts.” Marketing department meetings would talk about adverting goals in terms of attracting 500 lovers of the arts for a show. Curtain speeches could celebrate that a performance is sold out with 1100 people who love the arts.

What are your thoughts? Is there any creative person (person who exercises creativity?) who can think of an elegant, but active descriptor?