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.
1 comment:
Your last paragraph in this post rings sooooo true!! I often treat my professional role as an arts manager like being a personal shopper. Often when I tell people what I do for a living they respond by saying, "Well, I'm not creative". I usually respond with "Of course you are creative - didn't you choose the clothes you're wearing today and didn't you put on your own make-up?" Then I take them through the arts based version of that conversation. Here at Creative Campus at The University of Alabama often will use social coaxing and easily accessible arts as means of engaging audiences on a surface level and drawing them in deeper as they develop an appetite. One such project was Quidditch on the Quad http://www.uacreativecampus.org/QuidditchOnTheQuad - check it out to see how we took a Harry Potter movie premiere and engaged a diverse audience in much more.
Post a Comment