Feng Shui Your Practices

by:

Joe Patti

Since things are quieting down around the theatre this week (we only have a pre-school Christmas show, college winter graduation, Nutcracker brush up rehearsal and performances). I have been trying to dispose of obsolete equipment from around the office and such.

One of the things it is difficult to do around a theatre is get rid of stuff. The technical director here is notorious for holding on to things. In one respect this is good because so much is recycled, we don’t need to purchase new materials all the time. Saving money is good.

On the other hand, there are items we have had for 25 years and haven’t used and probably will never use again. We have tried to get rid of them but he insists we keep them against a theoretical use we may have in the future. This is preventing us from freeing up some much needed storage space and actually endangering other objects given that many of the old pieces are termite infested. We are able to toss some things out while he is on vacation (parting is less painful out of sight) or when they crumble under his touch due to the aforementioned termites.

Given that he is the one that has to work around the lack of storage, the situation is really more a bother for him than for me. I merely look around the shop and sigh about all the room we would have if shelves and the area under the pit were cleaned out.

In some respects, I am as bad as he only on a much smaller scale. We got brand new shiny ticket printers this summer but I just packed away the old one “just in case” even though it won’t work well at all with our new ticketing software. If the new printer had a problem, it would be a better use of our time to hand write all our tickets rather than attempt to configure the software to the old printer.

I am sure these type of practices are a metaphor for theatre as an industry as a whole. Resistance to tossing out barely functional equipment for fear we may one day need it probably equates to holding on to old practices and programming for fear that adopting new ones might leave us with less of an audience than we are already drawing.

In fact, I am pretty sure a feng shui practitioner would say that cluttering our space with old, unused objects is anchoring us to the past and hindering the progress we could be making in our lives. Since there are some items that we use often like our platforms, those feng shui practitioners and people on those anti-clutter home improvement shows wouldn’t necessarily counsel us to toss them.

Repainting a platform to make it look better on stage is one thing, but dressing up old audience development and programming strategies is another. The platform has some functional life left to it. There is often less hope to be found in old marketing practices.

The fear of discarding something with even marginal use when you have an untried replacement–or no replacement at all, can be paralyzing. I fully acknowledged to my assistant theatre manager that I would probably toss the old ticket printer this summer but I couldn’t bring myself to part with it just right now.

Sharing the Gold and Fleece

by:

Joe Patti

In years past I have written about how the members of my block blocking consortium leverage our purchasing power by proposing a tour to performers and their agents. Given the difficulty of finding workable time slots among 3-6 different organizations across the state, we often earn our discounts.

One thing I hadn’t found was a good example of producing organizations who cooperated to cut costs. Among presenters like my consortium, the questions that come up are mainly date and cost related–when are the artists available, are there openings on members’ calendars, can we afford the terms the performers seek.

Among producing organizations, there are so many more questions many potentially related to the artistic differences among the organizations- who does the casting, who designs costumes, lights, sets. Will the artistic quality and value reflect what patrons have come to expect of their local theatre. Will the other theatres have input into any of these elements? How much of the sets travel and how much is built by each organization? Given differences in stage sizes, what set pieces may be cut and still maintain the vision of the directors and designers?

How is it going to be paid for? If the theatres each normally operate under different Equity pay rates, will the actors be paid differently in each theatre?

Presenters face some of these questions on occasion, but to very limited degree compared to groups that are co-producing.

A blog entry on the McCarter Theatre website sheds some light on some of these questions. They are co-producing Argonautika with Berkeley Rep and Shakespeare Theatre Company. The show was rehearsed and first opened in San Francisco though the show was cast from auditions at all three locations. All three organizations are sharing all rehearsal costs (including the brush ups when the show moves) and presumably a portion of many of the other costs.

I liked McCarter Producing Associate, Adam Immerwahr’s reasons for partnering with other organizations.

1) it allows what would otherwise be a local production to have a much broader impact;

2) it allows an artist to continue to develop their work over time (allowing them another chance to make adjustments with each production);

3) it can be a cost-saving measure, allowing each of the theaters to share common costs (like the set, costumes, rehearsal time and casting expenses);

4) it is a way for multiple theaters to each share their expertise (new play development, mounting musicals, building big sets, etc.).

I especially appreciated the final point about shared expertise. I have been talking about cooperative efforts for a long time and while cost-savings is certainly going to be important in increasingly difficult financial times, I have always felt sharing knowledge and effort was going to prove crucial to the survival of many arts organizations because so little occurs among arts entities to begin with.

Father of the Subscription Dies

by:

Joe Patti

Via Arts Addict blog comes the news that champion of the subscription ticket, Danny Newman has died.

Newman was essentially the force that promoted the idea of getting people to commit to an entire season of shows, becoming a “the saintly season subscriber” as opposed to “the slothful, fickle single-ticket buyer.” Embracing that idea helped many art organizations succeed.

Unfortunately, the day of the subscriber has waned and many arts organizations are now subject to the whims of the fickle single ticket buyer.

Back in the early 90s when I was in grad school, we were seeing the writing on the wall. In one of my classes, we were assigned to compare and contrast Newman’s Subscribe Now! with another text promoting a different theory of audience development. We essentially derided many of Newman’s suggestions as dated and having no value in the last years of the 20th century.

One of the ideas we scoffed at was his suggestion of holding subscription parties, an event similiar to Tupperware and candle parties where individuals invited friends over and encouraged them to subscribe. Damned if not two years later a theatre I was working at that had lost the confidence of the community didn’t use this very tactic to regain support. Even though subscribing was a much more deeply ingrained practice in that community than in most, the experience taught me to be a little more humble and cautious about dismissing ideas.

Even though the subscription has had diminishing value over the course of my career, I have to admire the drive and audacity of Newman in championing the concept and helping so many organizations find success through it.

The Talk

by:

Joe Patti

Drew McManus at Adaptistration links to an article on The Partial Observer today on a familiar topic which author Holly Mulcahy terms, “The Talk.” You know, the one that goes “When a young man or woman grows up and falls in love with the arts, their thoughts turn to making a career of it. They impulsively jump into a passionate embrace with family, friends and faculty whispering sweet words of encouragement in their ears. They throw themselves into their art without reservation and without thought of cultivating alternative skills. But an arts career is a lot of responsibility and takes commitment and not the subject of a mere fling or dalliance. Even so, those who invest a lot of time and effort don’t always succeed.”

Mulcahy observes that most young artists aren’t given this warning during their studies even if they are too optimistic about their talent to believe they might fail.

I have seen some evidence that students are receiving warnings about job prospects from their professors and teacher more frequently of late. Tom Loughlin who teaches theatre at the State University of NY-Fredonia recently posted a survey of graduates of his program on his blog, A Poor Player. While the survey was not completely scientific and only applies to the graduates of the SUNY-Fredonia program, the 80 responses he received show enough of a trend to be sobering.

When asked how much of their income over the past year was derived from working on a entertainment related project, 30.6% said zero percent and 30.6% said one hundred percent. The rest fell in between. Although all told, 54% of the respondents made between 0% and 25% of their income so the results skewed fairly low. Working in the industry is a veritable all or nothing prospect. Half the respondents graduated between 1990 and 2000 so they have had some time to work on establishing themselves.

The following is excerpted from the conclusions of his survey. (DTD=Dept. of Theatre and Dance)

Technicians and administrators have the highest probability of earning any money in the business. Because the probabilities which follow combine the data for all types of entertainment/arts employment, it can be safely assumed that all the probabilities following are lower for performers….

…• There is about a 33% probability, or about a 1 in 3 chance, that a DTD graduate will make as much as 50% of their income from the business in any one year. All other income will come from “day jobs.”

• There is a 31% probability, or slightly less than 1 in 3 chance, that a DTD graduate will earn no money at all in the entertainment business in any one year (and thus drop out), and a 47% probability (roughly 50-50 chance) that a DTD graduate will make no money at all in live theatre after graduation in any one
year…

…• There is no direct correlation between membership in a union and earning significant income among DTD graduates. 2 out of 3 DTD graduates will not be successful in joining a union, and given the reality of multiple memberships those odds may be slightly higher.

• The probability of earning a salary which exceeds $50K in any one year in the arts/entertainment field for a DTD graduate is slightly better than 1 in 3, or 36.5%. [N.B. I suspect this statistic might be better stated as applying to only those graduates who are working in the field.]

In conclusion, the statistics seem to bear out the reality that full-time undergraduate students who major in theatre are, in all probability, preparing themselves for, at best, a part-time career. They will have to face the reality that, most likely, in any one given year they will make two-thirds of their income from a source outside the arts/entertainment field… They should enter the field with an intelligent combination of aspirations and practical planning, and with an understanding that all their hard work and preparation will be for a part-time career.

As always, your experience and mileage may vary according to your degree, experience and network of contacts. Actually, these statistics should motivate people to develop an extensive network of contacts. Having a wide network of people who think highly of your work becomes increasingly important the tougher it is to find meaningful paid work.