I was having a conversation with a friend from a previous job that brought up a few questions for me about what motivates people who work in the arts to attend arts events.

This gentleman was assistant marketing director and then marketing director for a theater at which I once worked. He eventually left to work for another marketing company, formed his own company which was acquired by another and is now a partner in that combined company.

In the same period his wife has been phasing herself out of a career in which her services were in high demand and is trying to earn her Actors’ Equity card. A couple years ago they both traveled to Scotland, young children in tow, to perform at the Edinburgh Fringe.

My friend tells me he hasn’t gone to see a show at the place we worked or almost anywhere else in years because of the ticket plus babysitter costs. This is a barrier to attendance that is commonly cited so there was no surprise in that.

What I was thinking as he told me was that if a guy who was paid to convince others that there was value for them in surmounting this barrier is unwilling to attend, how much harder is it these days to appeal to those without any background in arts attendance at all.

Granted, there is the element of his daughters’ youth that has to be factored in as well. Arts person or not, there is a necessity of child rearing that must be heeded. He gave the impression that he might be attending events more often now that his girls were getting older. It will be interesting to revisit the topic in a couple years to see if he did indeed start paying to attend shows more often.

I make the specific qualifier about paying to attend because he has been attending the shows his wife performs in using the comp tickets she gets. This fact spawned another train of thought that does not reflect on my friend’s practice, but is something I have observed in general.

I have known about 20 people in the last 15 years who haven’t been able to make the philosophical transition from starving artist to paying member of public. They got used to paying $5 or getting comps when they were students and/or starting out and years after won’t attend a show unless they receive the same treatment. In some cases they appeal to some pretty tenuous connections with people they only talk to when they want tickets. At least once a year I get a call invoking the name of someone 10 years gone.

I am betting some of my readers know these people. I am also willing to wager that some of them are pretty well off and put their ramen eating days behind them or worse, are successful professionals in the industry and feel their importance earns them free admission. (I have to confess, much to my chagrin every year I am sent two season passes to a theatre based on my theoretical importance. I am typically too busy and embarrassed by the idea to attend more than once or twice a year.)

I don’t know that this type of behavior is necessarily solely endemic to the arts rather than just being a component of a personality type. I am sure there are people who expect free food when they return to a restaurant where they once worked. Personally, I would prefer the problem to be personality related than to think that a lot of arts people are parasitic jerks.

The problem with this answer is that it provides more evidence that us arts people just like everyone else. If a guy who has performed and worked in theatres for over a decade leaves the performing arts world and has as hard a time motivating himself past to attend as the couple next door, maybe the arts aren’t a calling for a special segment of the population.

Frankly, I hate to have this sort of pessimism creep into my world view. The idea that being part of the arts confers a special grace and nobility makes being flat broke a little more tolerable. (It also dovetails nicely with a Catholic upbringing replete with tales of suffering saints.) And even though I am in administration, I feel the phrase “run arts like a business” robs it of some value.

I have come to realize that this grace and nobility isn’t the sole providence of those working in the industry but rather can be shared among all those encountering it. (Which is not to say that a dirt poor existence doesn’t sharpen the senses and appreciation of those who are receptive to experiencing art!) Partaking of this grace and nobility as a suffering poverty stricken artist in your youth certainly hasn’t earned you comps for life. You can’t be part of the in-crowd forever. One day you have to join the great unwashed and pay for your tickets.

Via Americans for the Arts ArtsBlog is a three part discussion about Joshua Bell’s experience playing anonymously at a Washington, DC train station back in April.

The three parts were actually recorded on the same day but have been posted periodically on the Polysemy Woodshed podcast/blog page. (Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Their discussions were some of the most thoughtful on the event that I have come across. The participants tackled a lot of the same issues about respect and recognition of talent, appropriateness of venue and curiosity of the children that I and others who have blogged on this topic have.

Among the specific ideas I found intriguing was the concept of an agreement existing between the performer and listener. Another was comments in part two by one of the participants where she talks about how discouraging it was that people walking by Bell seemed determined to ignore him. A short time later she acknowledges the common practice of tuning out information that is not immediately pertinent when she admits that she has only just noticed there were a lot of birds singing in her backyard and she has no idea if they have recently taken up residence there or if she has been tuning them out for a long time now.

The idea that you have have to have a frame of reference of some sort to assist your evaluation of art also came up in relation to art appearing in familiar and unfamiliar situations as well as simply having had enough prior experience that you can make a deliberate choice between stopping or walking away.

Part of the allure of Joshua Bell, one commenter argues is that there are a series of actions one engages in prior to attending a performance that create a sense of excitement and anticipation. Having circumvented these preparatory stages by appearing unannounced in a train station, Bell divested himself of much of the framework that make his performances so valued. He became merely a good violin player in the subway.

For those of you who recoil at the idea that Joshua Bell has much less value unannounced outside the symphony hall as he does inside let me point out that the U.S. dollar has no value outside what we invest in it. It is not backed by gold or silver–just belief. Print the exact design of a dollar bill on the exact same paper using only black ink and it is worth only the paper it is printed on. Add the blues, greens, yellows and reds and suddenly it is worth a bit more. It isn’t perfect analogy but in the same manner do tickets, clothes, dinner arrangements and nice performance halls contribute additional value to Joshua Bell.

As those discussing the situation point out, all these ancillary elements that enhance the value of the experience in our minds don’t actually improve the art. They are just things we as attendees have convinced ourselves are important to improving our receptiveness and enjoyment of the event.

One of the people talks about Matt Haimovitz who looked be one of the next great concert cellists but gave it all up because he felt he was disconnected from the audience and instead started playing in rock clubs, ice cream parlors and malls.

As the third segment ended, they pondered whether it was worth having orchestra musicians busk from time to time in the hopes that some ideas about how things might be changed to reach the man on the street would emerge.

I am not quite sure if there will be another installment or not. Each episode didn’t really indicate either overtly or imply by incomplete discussion arc that there would be additional sections posted. Since each segment was posted in two week intervals, I may just have to wait a couple weeks to find out!

Via Arts and Letters Daily is an interview with Ray Bradbury wherein he mentions that he never intended people to interpret Fahrenheit 451 as a warning against censorship, but rather a warning against the lack of substance on television. At a time when the few people who had televisions were watching shows on seven inch black and white screens, he rather presciently foresaw a world where people had wall sized televisions. (One even dominates the wall of his house these days.)

So often in the arts we are in a position of interpreting meaning for others. In many cases we don’t have the creator alive and available to check our perceptions against. To a certain extent, artists cede control over what a work means as soon as they show it to another person. Artists need to accept that people will see things in a work that aren’t there and then will start deconstructing it looking for more.

Of course, if the artist tells you point blank that they didn’t infuse their work with the meanings you are seeing, you as the observer can revel in your discovery of the unintended, but shouldn’t insist it means something else to the artist’s face. Bradbury apparently walked out of a class at UCLA because students wouldn’t stop insisting he was talking about censorship.

This type of situation raises questions about interpreting the meaning of art. First of all, if thousands of high school English teachers have been disseminating the wrong information about the themes intended by a living author, what are educators and those serving the same role at arts organizations getting wrong about dead artists?

As we write program notes, conduct Q&As or talk to ushers and patrons in the lobby, how much are we getting wrong? Maybe the idea that Hamlet was motivated by an Oedipal complex never crossed Shakespeare’s mind. (Especially since the concept is never considered until after Freud coined the term.)

Second is the matter of balance. Where does the balance fall between telling people what is meant and telling people there is no single correct interpretation? People come to educators and arts professionals for the tools to process unfamiliar material. We try to give them language and lenses to assist in this endeavor but part of the joy of encountering art is to see something no one told you was there.

The problem is that sometimes these realizations are tainted by the context we bring to the work and don’t reflect the intentions or reality of the artist. Now granted, personal context is the basis of some works of art like Impressionist paintings. But you are also in the position of not being able to tell people they are wrong about Hamlet since you subscribe to and encourage the “No wrong answer” school of thought.

There are lengthy essays written on this whole concept. But let me just toss a thought out there for you to ponder–

Who owns the meaning of a work of art? Even if you are polite to Ray Bradbury and believe that he only intended the book to be about television, is he essentially only accorded the status of a equal interpreter of art because he has missed all the other aspects of the book that speak to you?

The funny thing is, in denying an artist’s stated intent one often holds him/her in greater esteem for being such an adept creator, they subconsciously invested their work with multiple layers of meaning.

Since today is Memorial Day there are forces inspiring me in directions other than blogging. It was by a bit of serendipity that I came across this video last week illustrating that there is nothing new under the sun when it comes to B-Boy dancing.

This excerpt from “Detours – An Experimental Dance Collaboration,” alternates between B-Boy and dance/movements that preceded and inspired them from ethnic dancing, martial arts and films. Some of the sources have been obvious, but it was intriguing to see some of the more obscure origins of some of the moves.

While B-Boy dance has always been impressive to watch, viewing this video segment has increased it in my estimation as integrating that which is best of human physical expression.

Warning: Strong Language in Interview Section at Start and End.

Over the last few months I have been serving on a subcommittee advising the Salvation Army on the theatre section of the Ray and Joan Kroc Corps Community Center they plan to build with a portion of the $15 billion the widow of McDonald’s founder Ray Kroc bequeathed to them.

The scope of the entire project which will also include immense athletic facilities, swimming pools, classrooms and daycare, is frankly intimidating so I am glad I am only focused on the performance space planning.

The San Diego facility providing a prototype for the local project was built while Mrs. Kroc was alive. She set very high standards for the project mandating that the normally modest Salvation Army cut no corners. The Salvation Army has some tough decisions to make given that while they want to spread the money around to as many communities as possible, they also need to allocate enough to each to satisfy her wishes.

I think she would be pleased to know that the center will be placed directly adjacent to a burgeoning community that will derive immense benefit from all the services it will provide.

On a related topic, at least three people on the Kroc Center subcommittee, myself included, have been approached by consultants hired by another organization planning to build a theatre nearby. I had been contacted a year earlier by another consultant who was engaged to put a business plan together. After a long discussion I told her I felt one phase of the plan would be valuable to the community but that a second phase was dicey because people didn’t realize what resources were required to run a theatre well. She called me back at the end of her study and essentially told me she agreed.

The second consultant told me they were just double checking the information from the first consultant. Later I wondered if the first consultant hadn’t given her employers the answer they wanted when another arts leader told me the second consultant was trying to persuade him to urge their employers to scale back the project. I wonder if like those living outside Phoenix, the residents of that neighborhood don’t identify with the city core.

I reference this second case not only because I have been pondering if it aligns with the findings of the Rand Corporation regarding arts environments in places like Phoenix, but also to note the different processes organizations go through in construction planning. I don’t know if depending on a consultant is better than putting together a committee of professionals or not. Consultants are probably less likely to have potential conflicts of interest with a project but can impart more sagacious advice based on experience.

Frankly, I was a little concerned that I wasn’t qualified to advise the Salvation Army until I learned the plan had to be vetted by the state, regional, national and international headquarters.

One of the interesting things about serving on the Kroc Center subcommittee is that the people we were advising had no preconceived notions about how the theatre would be used other than wanting to hold a few religious services. At the first committee meeting we were told to outfit the building with everything we wished our theatres had. Most of the meeting was spent with the committee members asking questions about the core purpose of the facility– producing, presenting, rentals, support of the arts classes– with the Salvation Army staff member assigned to us scribbling everything down to pose to her superiors.

By the second meeting the organization had clarified their thoughts in relation to all of our questions and suggestions about the niches the space might fit. It appears they intend to primarily rent the facility to interested parties. This suits me well since the facility will be in my geographic proximity. They won’t compete with my presenting activities but will provide a place for me to refer renters I have to turn away for lack of available dates.

One of the things that impressed me was that they are truly planning for the needs of the community rather than their organization. For example, the seating capacity needed to serve the potential community users will probably exceed attendance at their services for the foreseeable future by a fair amount leaving a lot of empty seats.

There is one more meeting in this phase of the planning and this time we committee members have homework. We have been asked to review three space designs, mostly pertaining to square feet allocated for different rooms and comment on whether it is sufficient for the proposed uses of the facility. We have also been asked to staff the facility with employees and volunteers and generate a list of all the furniture, fixtures and equipment that would fall out if you took the roof off and turned it over.

It has been quite entertaining imagining what would fall out if a giant child caming along, opened the roof of my theatre like a dollhouse’s and inverted it. Given that the assistant theatre manager’s niece turned one of her set models into a dollhouse, it isn’t so far fetched. I’ve been practicing my knots so I can lash myself to the nearest railing or pipe just in case.

When I made my entry on artist neighborhoods and the evicting power of gentrification a couple weeks ago, I meant to link to an additional article in Business Week. Now I am sort of glad I didn’t because it provide me the opportunity to raise the subject of what environments artists really value.

The Business Week article, “Bohemian Today, High-Rent Tomorrow,” obviously deals with the issue of artists making neighborhoods too cool for them to live in.

One of the things the piece discusses is that artists will trade affordability for the chance to live near other artists or at least near people with money to consume their artistic product. The piece is coupled with a slide show of the best places for artists to live. (buttons to advance the slides in upper right hand corner.)

Interestingly, since the list came out in February, people have been regularly posting comments to the site expressing their dismay that NYC and LA and others to a lesser extent were included on the list. (Kingston, NY is the real winner in the comments.) The feeling is that some of the cities on the list are too expensive and inhospitable to artists.

The article had acknowledged this but rated other factors as compensating for these things. Given that one of these factors was a concentration of artists and arts establishments, some people are apparently willing to make the trade off. Whether they enjoy a similar standard of living as artists in the other cities on the list, (i.e. size/condition of housing and number of roommates), is unknown.

So the question for my readers is, what trade offs are you will or not willing to make in regard to the city in which you live?

I am revisiting a couple stories tonight.

The first is some applause for Michael Rice over at Cool As Hell Theatre podcast who has been picked up by station KQED in San Francisco. Michael’s podcast is the first, and at this time only podcast broadcast by the station.

I have to confess, I haven’t been listening to his podcast as often as I would like. Everytime I do listen, I scold myself for neglecting his work. I appreciate that he asks questions you want to know the answers to that most interviewers avoid.

Case in point, in his most recent interview with Alison Jean White. She is the youngest member of American Conservatory Theater’s permanent company, a distinction previously held by Annette Benning. He asks her the requisite questions about feeling pressured to live up to Benning’s legacy. But he also asks her if she felt like she was exploited as cheap labor when she was a student at A.C.T. and talks about how he felt that way when he was in a different acting training program.

Given that she is still employed by A.C.T. and probably wouldn’t want to malign the organization, he probably didn’t expect her to answer negatively if she was disgruntled. I am just always impressed that he asks questions that reveal the inner lives of artists and the struggles and concerns they face. He also makes himself vulnerable to derision by revealing that he felt so exploited and burned out that he turned down offers of employment after a showcase.

Anyhow, I have made up for my past errors by subscribing to his podcast. It will be interesting to see where things go now that he has the potential for greater distribution. (Hopefully those San Francisco Public Radio listeners are hip to podcasts!)

Second issue I wanted to revisit I wrote on a bit more recently. It seems The Independent of London decided to replicate the Joshua Bell experiment the Washington Post conducted a few months ago that I posted about a couple weeks back.

They chose to place violinist Tasmin Little in a station far less appealing than L’Enfant Plaza in Washington, D.C. The railway bridge beside Waterloo Station is described as “…amply layered with pigeon shit, blankets belonging to the homeless lie scrunched in a corner, and no doubt the place is used as an impromptu loo by Friday night binge-drinkers. It’s also windy, cold and, with the passing trains, a bit noisy.”

The article admits the environment isn’t conducive to stopping to listen echoing many of the same complaints a French businessman makes as he passes through. In fact, members of the Philharmonia Orchestra are the first to recognize Little and won’t stop because they have a train to catch.

While I feel both the Washington Post and The Independent articles got a little melodramatic as they wailed about the poor children being heartlessly yanked away from the musicians, in The Independent story, far more young people stopped and gave money than older folks who pay large amounts to see Little in concert halls.

It makes me wonder if my earlier thoughts about finding appropriate places outside of the concert hall to perform and then studying the who, what, when, where and how of getting people to sincerely stop and listen as a way of discovering a better method of delivery might have some validity.

The newly opened Honolulu Design Center is really trying to change the way people think about the place home and office furnishings has in their lives by positioning this facility as a gathering place.

If you have never considered your furniture store a center of social activity, you aren’t alone. The HDC figures this is the first time anyone has ever tried anything like this. If you look at their plans closely, you can see they have really done some thinking about their target audience.

The three story building has a cafe, a wine bar offering 90 choices and a 90 seat fine dining restaurant which will feature some of the furniture they are selling in their 6 showrooms. There is also an events area where Jazz is performed on Thursday nights and Wednesday and Sundays are film nights.

Just as Home Depot and Lowes offer little classes for the do-it yourselfers, HDC offers seminars that fit the lifestyle of their target clientele. The Small Business Administration held a micro-enterprise workshop for people wanting to start their own small business with monthly seminars on other topics to come. Another workshop offered helps people view home construction as an interconnected system so that all the segments integrate well together and result in low operating costs.

A television show, “Generation X and WhY Inquiring” will be filmed there featuring students

“-ages 9 to 17 – from various schools who will discuss and debate…the dynamics between boys and girls and issues ranging from harmless teasing to more serious topics like safety, drugs and health. Other important areas like global conservation, pollution, oceans, Social and educational issues…”

A number of thoughts passed through my mind. First that it must be nice to have the money to build the place as well as the money to buy from this place. While I am told there are pieces I could afford, $42,000 leather couches are more in line with what they offer.

Still, even though they are in a good position to recoup part of their investment being located next to the construction site of two towers of condos which need to be furnished, they are taking a big chance with this project. People might buy coffee or wine while perusing furniture–but are they going to go to a furniture store, nice as it might be, for dinner and a movie?

I also wondered if all the performing arts centers that have been built in the last few years at costs the exceed those of that Honolulu Design Center by millions have had as good a handle on how to serve their target audiences as the furniture place does.

In some respects, clues about what to offer and how to position themselves already exist. As mentioned earlier, they have upgraded the classes that Home Depot offers. They also seem to have improved on Target Stores’ Design for All campaign. At the prices they are charging, they certainly aren’t offering design for all, of course.

As I observed in an entry two years ago, humans seem to have an intrinsic need for art/beauty/meaning/purpose in their lives. Target Stores aim to bring the semblance of the aesthetic high end stores like HDC possess within the reach of everyone. HDC has moved a step further and is trying to bring many elements of the lifestyle their furniture already represents into one location.

To their credit, this isn’t some new initiative that marketing research indicated was a good idea. It is just another chapter in the company’s long history of sincere investment in local arts and culture. Their weekly print ads feature local visual and performing artists and promote their work and upcoming performances.

Thinking about what lessons could be derived from this for the arts, I came up with a great deal of “if onlys”- If only arts organizations had the kind of money to do market research to develop a great plan for serving the needs of a target audience; if only they could maintain a consistent staff and cohesive vision to see the plan through (Took HDC 8 years to come to fruition); if only they had the funding enabling them to ignore the distracting noise of earned/unearned income woes.

What I ultimately end up thinking is that HDC may serve as an example of what an arts organization should be– an unexpected arrangement that suits the community in which it is located rather than based on a standard set in other places. Somewhere out there may be a mini-van dealership/daycare/athletics field/community arts center catering to dual career-soccer parents.

Reflecting upon my use of Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance to discuss the definition of quality, I wondered if my support of his grading experiment might have been an early predictor of my involvement in the arts.

It seems to me that a person who valued insightful comments on their papers might be more likely to gravitate toward professions that provided more intangible rewards like esteem and self-actualization rather than high pay and material perks. On the other hand, I wonder if people who valued a specific letter or numeric grade over extensive commentary might be more likely to join professions with clearer remuneration.

I did a brief search for studies that might have examined this and didn’t find anything. I suspect the failure to do so is more a factor of not knowing what terms to use in a search than lack of research related to this topic.

About three years ago I included a Harvard Business Review article about the single perfect customer satisfaction survey question in an entry about customer service. (How willing would you be to recommend company X to a friend?)

I would be interested to know if there is any research out there that might support the dependability of using a single question to determine if someone in high school or college was disposed toward a career in the non-profit field based on what form of feedback they valued most on their assignments.

If there was a correlation between preferred form of feedback and profession, perhaps the perfect career path question might be: “What do you find more valuable in assessing the progress of your academic career, a letter/numeric grade or extensive written/verbal feedback?”

Does anyone know of research studies that might prove or disprove this notion?

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.

__________________

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.