The question about what constitutes quality is one of those things an arts manager usually doesn’t have time to ponder but which is central to all the activities an arts organization undertakes.

Most mission statements for arts organizations allude to providing quality to the community if they don’t do so outright. But when the doors open, are you offering the very best quality, the top quality you can afford or the top quality people are willing to pay for? Or does your product fall right there in the middle of the bell curve–something of middling quality that the largest group of people is willing to pay for?

Every couple of years I go back and read Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. In the book, Pirsig methodically advances through various philosophical schools of thought in an attempt to create a valid definition of quality. He doesn’t actually complete the process until his second book, Lila.

There is a summary of his conclusions here. It is pretty heady stuff and tough to see the application to the arts just by reading the summary unless you are avid about philosophy. There is an essay by Mark S. Lerner called “Management and Art” that takes a crack at it that might be helpful in understanding some of the implications of Pirsig’s work.

I like reading Zen… because it gets me thinking and the detailing of his process aids my comprehension of the issues involved. I will admit I get lost at various points, though I make progress on each rereading. I don’t know if he actually arrives at a valid definition of quality. What he does arrive at makes more sense than what the dictionary says. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I come away with a broader appreciation of the elements and considerations that comprise the measure of quality.

Does reading the book better inform my administration of my theatre and programming of its season?

Yeah, well it is often tough to take satisfaction in knowing that you have been responsible for the propagation and dissemination of a large concentration of quality into the universe when box office receipts are so dismal.

We go before legislatures and tell them that they should be concentrating on all the lives that have been changed and not numbers served when choosing to fund the arts. But when we get back to our offices, damned if it ain’t a lot about the numbers, eh?

In his book Pirsig talks about how he decided not to let his students know what grade they got on a paper but instead give extensive feedback about the work they did and how to improve. The students went crazy. The comments on the quality were well and good, but they wanted a quantitative measure of their success.

When you are running an arts organization it is much the same way. You love the comments about how great the show was, but what you really care about are a satisfying number of butts in the seats (or butts passing through the doors if you are a museum/gallery.)

I should note that subsisting solely on a diet of comments, most of Pirsig’s A & B students improve their performance. The C and D students either saw an improvement or hovered about the same with some D & F students sinking into oblivion. Operating an arts organization in ever fluctuating social, technological and economic environments is a lot more involved than applying oneself in academic studies. It is nigh impossible to survive solely on that diet of feedback, but handled well some nutritional value can be distilled resulting in organizational health and growth.

So yes, absolutely, reading the book definitely informs the day to day decisions I make. I ponder such things as I have written above and throughout this blog. Obviously, I think reading and thoughtful consideration of different issues is important even if the idealism presented in writings seems far divorced from the hectic, time crunched reality of our daily lives.

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A brief related story I wanted to share. I first came across this book while taking a class in college. I wrote a paper supporting his ideas about replacing simple letter grades with brief evaluations of a student’s work. Much to my delight, my professor took me at my word and didn’t grade my paper. (She was already in the practice of writing comments on our papers.)

Given the college’s expectation that she assign a grade, she invited me to come to her office to discuss what grade I should receive. After reviewing her notes on my paper, I decided I had earned a B+. She was prepared to give me whatever grade I chose, but agreed that is what she would have assigned the paper.

Factoring in all the time and energy she invested in this whole encounter, this was very expensive for my professor. It is also one of the incidents that contributed to my feeling that I received a quality education at that school. An experience that resonates with me so many years later though she has probably forgotten all about it. (Though hopefully she offered similar experiences to other students.)

Back in January The Artful Manager linked to Peter Sellar’s speech before the American Symphony Orchestra League (text found here.) One of the comments he made was that Beethoven didn’t write polite music.

On the way into work the next day I heard an ad that said something to the effect of “this moment of calm is brought to you by…” and named the local symphony while playing some sedate music. I wryly thought to myself that they were taking the wrong approach and should be advertising that they performed impolite music by the bad boys of their day.

I almost immediately started wondering how symphonies defined what music they played. Is it music that has stood the test of time? If so, why don’t they try to adapt enduring music by groups like Led Zeppelin and the Doors. Some of the pieces might might not be appropriate, but “Kashmir” had orchestral backing and I think a symphony could do something interesting with “Riders on the Storm.” Some effort in arranging the music for a symphony might create the basis of an interesting program that might attract some new audiences. These artists were certainly not writing polite music and were bad boys of their day.

About two weeks later at the APAP convention I actually came across a group in a showcase that had arranged many classic rock tunes for chamber instruments. I have subsequently learned that the London Symphony Orchestra has performed an orchestral arrangement of “Kashmir” and The Who’s rock opera Tommy, which I had forgotten.

I suspect that symphonies define the music they play as falling within a certain aesthetic that bears similar elements to works by predecessors like Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, etc. This seems like a very limiting approach. Admittedly, there is some logic to this. Nora Jones is defined as a jazz artist based on similarities in song choice and vocal execution to Bille Holiday and Nina Simone.

I looked around at the websites of about 15 symphonies, both large and small, and saw that some were performing works by composers who are still very much alive and haven’t needed to stand any tests of time. The only person I knew enough about to call a “bad boy” was John Cage.

I don’t want to get into a whole elitism debate regarding orchestral music so I will simply say I can see why the music of Led Zeppelin, The Doors and The Who, while standing the test of time, might not be considered appropriate for the main season. So I started looking at the Pops seasons for each of the 15 groups I mentioned before. By and large, most of the pops programming seemed to consist of the orchestras performing with popular artists like Manhattan Transfer, The Chieftans and Marvin Hamlisch. Old standbys like Gershwin tunes and the 1812 Overture appeared in Pops seasons, too.

I don’t know if I was looking in the wrong places or if performing arrangements of these songs represents a trend that has passed, but there seems to be a missed opportunity by not performing more contemporary but enduring works, even if only in a Pops season. If video game themes and cell phone rings can be the subject of symphony performances, why not these works? There is some real power, majesty and craftsmanship in these songs (or at least opportunities to use orchestra instruments to infuse these things into them.)

One of the strengths musicians of any stripe have is the ability to choose from a wide variety of songs. In theatre and dance, unless you are doing a series of short plays or short dance pieces, you are usually tied to performing a show linearly as written. People go to the symphony expecting they will hear selections from different artists in programs with titles like “A Foreign Affair” and “Glances of Love”. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea how the music integrates with these titles. From my vantage, it appears as if some sort of randomization computer program is used to pick the titles.

My point is symphonies have a ready made format and an audience that probably only knows slightly more about the logic process that places these songs together on the same night. If someone advertised a program titled “Bach You Tonight” that featured Bach and “Stairway to Heaven” at the right price, people who had never attended a concert might be intrigued enough to attend. (I certainly would because I am having a hard time imagining them working together. Who knows.)

I am not going to suggest that people will come for the Zeppelin and be entranced enough to return for the “Strictly Strauss.” It may be that the new attendees never become comfortable with anything more than the annual “Rock N’ Rachmaninoff” series. (Yes, I am having fun making up these names. I promise to stop before something really goofy like Haydn and Halen). These type of programs would also need to be part of a larger effort to attract and welcome new people, to be sure.

Folks will say if I really understood how symphonies operate, I wouldn’t make such ludicrous suggestions. Yeah, admittedly this may all be akin to the suggestions on our surveys that I present Christina Aguilera in my little theatre. From my perspective it can’t be too far afield from what Pops programs already do. Even if I am off base, perhaps all this will inspire someone with the practical knowledge to make something similar happen.

The biggest problems I anticipate are 1) Some drunk guy standing up and yelling, “Play Freebird!” and 2) Existing patrons feeling that it is dumbing down the program to include it in the main season. Good monitoring at the bar will solve the first problem. The second problem–well even as unexperienced as I am with classical music, I know that it will take a lot of skill to arrange some of this music so it sounds awesome at a performance. Dumb ain’t gonna cut it.

While I am talking a lot about classic rock, I don’t want anyone to get their minds stuck on that. There is plenty of other enduring material to explore for rearranging like some of the works of Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright, etc.

Not everything deserves to be arranged to be interpreted by a symphony. It should be more about showing off the symphony’s prowess than playing something just because it is easily recognizable. Yet something recognizable can also make it easier for a person with a low level of experience to appreciate the skill with which a piece is rendered.

Many people recognize the “Blue Danube Waltz” but might not be able to discern whether it is played well. On the other hand, an existing familiarity with “Gallows Pole” (which has absolutely endured centuries) provides a reference point from which to judge a symphony’s rendition.