Thursday, January 20, 2011

I've Been On Board for 15 Years.


Everyone once in a while I read something in a book that makes me want to pound my head against the desk. Really hard. Not because the message of the book is stupid, or inane; but because the author beat me to the punch. But why should I be so hard on myself when I find people that resonate with my thesis? I should be happy with the validation, shouldn’t I?

So what’s so meaningful about The Cluetrain Manifesto to an arts administrator? You may be wondering, “Why the heck would an arts administrator be reading The Cluetrain Manifesto? Shouldn’t she be administering… art?” You’d probably be wondering next, “So what does an arts administrator actually do, anyway?”

It all started when I woke up to my purpose in life; right around my 30th birthday. This sad little tale started in the mid 1990’s after the height of the Culture Wars, when orchestras around the country were noticing that the audience was graying. Never one for allowing the pity party to last beyond the smoke of the birthday candles, I realized that I could do more for the arts by putting my bassoon down and getting involved in arts management. Since then I’ve learned a lot about this arts sector; its barriers to connecting with audiences, and it’s inevitable path of self-destruction.

There are many aspects of arts engagement that are antiquated. Just pick up any presenter brochure. Read it. Do you really know what it’s saying? You get a whole lot of what, when, who, where and definitely how much (not to mention the really pretty pictures). But do you really understand why you would be interested in giving your time to the experience? Do the artistic directors, arts managers and arts presenters (generally) think about whether or not the audience really understands their message? Do most people know how to relate to the arts? And if they did, are they proud to say it? Or do they hide their artistic affections in the closet out of fear of being labeled elite, snobbish or worse – (gasp)! a band geek

I often ask college students when was their last arts experience. If they hadn’t studied music or dance privately, or participated in extracurricular arts in high school, and if their parents aren’t arts aficionados – it was most likely when they took a school field trip in the 3rd grade to a museum or the Nutcracker. For that, I blame the 1983 Department of Education Report; A Nation at Risk. It was after that publication, when many politicians and local school boards interpreted their findings (of why we were then falling behind JAPAN in school achievement) to produce standardized curriculum and tests while pushing the arts to the side as non-core subjects. Do multiplication tables teach creativity and innovation?

At the same time education was failing at sharing our cultural traditions and artistic languages, arts organizations became even more elite with their communications. Program notes were written for audiences with PhD’s in music history. Theatre reviews written in newspapers required the reader to have a personal knowledge of every playwright reference known since Shakespeare. Even tour guides in museums would confuse their patrons by throwing about words like, “painterly” and “provenance.” I even know arts presenters who think all they need to sell a show is a really good copy righter for a well-placed ad.

Let’s face it. This is a country that has lost its value of the arts. And arts organizations are struggling to figure out how to re-engage with the audience. I should say more rightly, SOME people in the arts have awakened to the crisis. There are a few artists, educators, and arts leaders who champion the cause of audience engagement. Michael Kaiser, president of the Kennedy Center writes that the biggest problem in the arts is poorly trained arts managers. I think the bigger threat is that artists and arts organizations have forgotten that without the audience, they are nothing. But this is a tribe of people who seem to be committed to the nineteenth century ideal of the starving, misunderstood artist. To that ideal, the audience doesn’t really matter.

While the study of art has become ever more structured in the conservatories, the audience has become more distant to the conversation. This is at the heart of why Cluetrain Manifesto makes me crazy. It points out what has been most obvious to me in the arts world for nearly two decades.

The pounding started at the first theses: “Markets are Conversations.” I’ve been working with all types of educational and cultural institutions to figure out how to better connect with audiences. What I do is at the heart of why my forehead is a little flatter. Cluetrain Manifesto is a bible for me; not a manual. I replace every “market” with “audience” and every “company” with “arts/artist/arts organization.”

And while I attempt to gain a confidence in writing – which I don’t have – which is why I chose to become a musician in the first place – I read. Voraciously. I seek out perspectives in communications from a multitude of practices; marketing, journalism, and even social networking. I get a lot of theory. But I’m seeking a better practice.  Theory and advice are great – but I stay away from “how to” or “top ten tricks to saving your arts organization.” I’m developing principles that drive my activities.

The Cluetrain Manifesto reinforced every principle I’ve formulated in my work. Especially the one about “lightening up.” Seriously. Even Bruce Springsteen refers to himself as the Easter Bunny when he’s spotted by a fan in public. Artists must be more open to criticism. And I want to hear the audiences boo when the performance is bad. Because they deserve to be heard. But most importantly, if we want the audience to care about us – we have to care about the audience.

I see myself as a reference librarian for arts experiences. To some, I would serve more as a maitre’ D or a concierge. How can I help you navigate the bountiful landscape of the arts? If anyone is really interested in exploring that, I would first ask, “So – what do you like?” The more I learn about you, the better I’ll be able to tell you about some of the events coming up.


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

When words fail, [art] speaks



Hans Christian Andersen’s* original quote is actually, “When words fail, music speaks.”

This quote is a small comfort as I search for meaning, for reason, for some substance that led to the tragedy of last Saturday’s shooting in Arizona. Our entire community, country and even world is searching for reasons; desperately seeking something or someone to blame. 

I turned to friends to seek out inspired thoughts, wisdom, clarity, even a little bit of sanity. My friend and colleague, Jeremy Littau; assistant professor of Journalism discusses in his blog, personal reactions to the shootings. His point is not that our uncivilized discourse in media has caused the shooting. It is “that we shouldn’t have to prove causality [of heated rhetoric causing the shooting] to convince people to argue for a more civil tone.”

I couldn’t agree more. Our culture has become one of reaction, of uncontrolled outbursts. We accept behavior that would shame our grandparents.  We have lost a value of restraint, or of carefully measured words. It is here that I make an even stronger argument for the arts.

Art, in its varied forms of expression can communicate feelings and ideas in ways that words sometimes can’t. It seems as if we have to constantly learn the impact of how art can transcend boundaries of history, culture – even politics. Art can soothe, inspire, and even provoke. At times, art can outrage. But even the most intense emotion that is communicated through an art form forces the audience to think about what the artist is saying.  And through our reactions to the experience, art can also remind us of our shared humanity.

While I was searching for verification of H.C. Andersen’s quote, I came across another. Perhaps this one resonates event more in these times.

The human soul longs for things higher, warmer, and purer than those offered by today's mass living habits, exemplified by the revolting invasion of publicity, by TV stupor, and by intolerable music.” Aleksandr Solhenitsyn (Russian author 1918-2008)

And how interesting that I find quotes from two poets to sooth my troubled soul? And these artists paint with words. What also comes to my troubled mind, is the music that will be heard at the memorial services for those killed. Of the photographic collages, the video montages, the gathering of people who will share the spirit of the people whose lives were ended so violently.

Can we move on? Can sharing our expressions through art be a catalyst for more civil discourse. Is this something every generation must learn anew? If that is the future I see before me, then it is my responsibility to keep art alive in our society. To share the masterworks of the past, and to encourage the voices of now and the future, is something we must all hold dear.

* Hans Christian Andersen (Danish author 1805-1875)

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Finding my voice. Restating my purpose.

I just spent the last four hours writing a post to the ArtsLehigh Blog. These posts are the full statements from which I extract a descriptive paragraph at the head of the ArtsLehigh weekly eNewsletter.

This newsletter has become standard operations for ArtsLehigh. We've been experimenting with it for nearly two years. We scan the internet; arts organization websites, regional calendars, and even Facebook to bring every creative and cultural experience we think students might be interested in and can get to (meaning, not too far distance from campus). We also add events that may be of interest to staff and faculty; because believe it or not, they also need someone to gather this information for them.

Our local newspapers are incredible resources for cultural calendars. But who has the time to pull all this information together in order to make decisions about what to do for cultural exploration? So we act as curators of information; maitre'd, concierge, reference librarian, name it what you like.

Somehow though, that didn't seem enough to merit taking up space in people's inboxes. I needed to give something more. An opinion. Insider knowledge. Depth. More of a reason WHY people should know about the stuff we were listing. I started writing a small note at the top of each newsletter. Sometimes, I'll have more than one thing to say. Sometimes, other people have better things to say, so I feature their thoughts.

I believe this is vital to raising awareness of arts importance in our lives. I hope that as this effort continues, our readership grows and engages conversation in the topics we raise.