The Cycle: A Practical Approach to Managing Arts Organizations

1 | Programming: It Is All about the Art

6 1 programming It Is All about the Art There is one fundamental truth about arts management: the key to a healthy arts organization is strong, exciting, surprising programming. This programming might include performances, exhibitions, educational or outreach activities, or service to the field, but I have yet to observe an arts organization that maintains health while routinely producing boring, uninteresting work. I took a national speaking tour in 2009 and 2010 to discuss the economic crisis and the ways arts organizations should and should not respond. On that tour, I was struck by the number of presenting organizations that were doing the exact same programming. It seemed that whichever performing group was on tour that season was being booked by everyone. There is nothing wrong with booking a touring show, but presenters that do not do some of their own, unique programming have a difficult time building a strong reputation and, hence, a family that is willing to support it. These organizations have what I call “slots mentality.” They think of each season as a series of slots: the family slot, the Christmas slot, the humorous slot, the diverse slot, etc., and dutifully fill each slot as they plan a season. Arts organizations are not there simply to fill in slots: they are meant to exist because an artistic leader has something unique and important to express. Sadly, rather than celebrate that “something unique,” too many organizations today have grown complacent with “what works” or “what works over there”; they simply program last year’s recipe year after year. This programmatic inertia fails to recognize that “something unique” is what likely attracted its most loyal board members, audiences, and donors to begin with. A “slots mentality” plays right into this dangerous inertia. Ultimately, it is “something unique” that differentiates the organization from the pack of competitors vying for attention from the same patrons. p r o g r a m m i n g 7 When arts organizations develop new works, forge new collaborations , mount impressive festivals, engage world-class artists, or develop large-scale educational networks, these programmatic breakthroughs often gain—or regain—share in a saturated marketplace. If the work is performed with quality and conviction—even if it is not for everyone— the organization has transformed the conversation. That organization has become impossible to ignore. I have asked thousands of people to tell me about the most exciting arts event they have ever witnessed, and the responses are surprising, sometimes even to them. Someone may love Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony , Swan Lake, or Phantom of the Opera, but the favorite experience is usually something more esoteric—something that truly astonished them. While dynamic programming initiates a healthy cycle, encouraging people to join our families as audience members and donors, a program that fails to surprise sets in motion a vicious cycle: uninteresting programming leading to reduced family size and engagement, leading to less revenue. Reduced revenue then encourages even less risky, less ambitious art-making—resulting in further disengagement by the family, resulting in less revenue, and on and on. Not every attempt at daring programming will succeed; one must be willing to accept failure if one aspires to something great. Even the most successful arts organizations fail from time to time. But they survive because their families are so engaged and supportive that they are willing to accept the occasional mistake. Smart organizations budget for failure; they recognize that they will not make every target every time and create a contingency fund in their budgets to accommodate those productions that do not meet projections. Many board members are quick to criticize their artistic leaders if they do not find their programming interesting or engaging. Ironically, many of these same board members also press for reduced expenditures on arts-making, for creating projects that are “easy to sell,” for building audience size, and for increasing fundraising. These are almost always mutually exclusive ambitions. It is virtually impossible to increase revenue through audience building and fundraising while also reducing investment in programming and artistic risk. For example, Michael Tilson Thomas—the music director of both the San Francisco Symphony and the New World Symphony—is unafraid t h e c y c l e 8 to do radical, innovative programming. But his programming is noticed, written about, and discussed. He takes risks, for sure, but more often than not it pays off. Paul Kellogg, the...